Page 34 of Hearts on the Line (The Maverick Key #1)

Maddie

I’m beneath the water’s surface, double-checking my dive computer monitor and adjusting my face mask.

My heart rate picks up as we get closer to the entrance to Carter’s Drop.

Hovering a few feet away, Wes gives me the OK sign, his green eyes bright behind his mask.

We’re using hand signals for me to get the practice and will only use our comms if there’s an emergency.

He gestures toward the opening. I take a deep breath through my regulator, my pulse quickening.

This is the moment I’ve been training for.

For weeks, Wes has pushed me through endless drills.

I’ve trained in the dry suit and rebreather, completed countless line-following exercises, and performed emergency maneuvers to address all kinds of failure scenarios.

His relentless yet patient teaching method has brought me to this point.

I trust him completely, but now I need to trust myself. I can do this.

Wes and I enter the cavern, and it’s like we’re in another world. The water cools significantly. I follow Wes, and my movements are controlled. Just as we had practiced.

The deeper we go, the dimmer the light becomes. However, it’s not complete darkness. In the cavern, sunbeams still sneak through cracks in the rock, creating shifting, ghostly patterns. The walls widen, rough and jagged, with patches of algae giving them an alien texture.

Wes signals for me to stop near a cluster of limestone. He unspools a dive line and secures it to a pointed rock edge. His hand signals are clear: Watch. Learn.

He’d drilled the mantra into me during my training: “The line is your life. Never lose the line.” I repeat the words silently, holding myself still for a moment. My line reel hangs at my side, its presence quiet reassurance that I’m in control of what happens next.

As we move deeper into the cavern, it opens into a large chamber with multiple tunnels branching into darkness. My heart races as I recognize one feature from Nathan’s maps. A distinct arch. I motion for Wes’s attention and point toward it. When I move closer, he clutches my arm.

His other hand points to the sign bolted near the tunnel entrance.

It’s the grim reaper sign. Its deathly image and words are stark and sobering.

A chill runs through me as I read the words.

STOP! Prevent your death! Go no further.

There’s nothing in this cave worth dying for.

Below the grave warning, a bulleted list of cave dangers is printed.

Wes shared a history of how various professional dive organizations collaborated to craft the signs in the late 1980s to reduce the rising number of deaths associated with cave dives.

I respect the danger, but it won’t stop me.

I look back at Wes, who shakes his head firmly.

Not yet. We’re going to take one step at a time.

We continue the cavern dive without incident, focusing on my buoyancy, breathing, and the drills we’d practiced endlessly.

Wes gives me an OK sign every once in a while, the approval in his eyes boosting my confidence.

He’s proud of me. For a moment, I allow myself to believe I belong here.

And that I know what I’m doing. But the darker tunnels pull at my curiosity, Nathan’s clues murmuring in the back of my mind. Where do they lead? Go see.

When Wes signals that it’s time to ascend, I hesitate. My gaze drifts to a small opening visible in the rock wall. It’s nothing more than a shadowed crack, but I can’t help myself. I gesture toward it, asking silently.

Wes signals a firm—No. His body language leaves no room for debate.

Still, as he turns to prepare for our ascent, I edge closer to the opening. Just a peek. I’ll only go in a couple of feet. That will be okay, I tell myself. I slip inside, my heart pounding as curiosity overtakes caution.

The walls close in, and the dim light from the main cavern instantly disappears, leaving only faint illumination from my diving lamp. The sudden shift in lighting startles me, causing my fin to scrape along the bottom. Instantly, a silt plume engulfs me.

Panic takes hold. My visibility has vanished.

There is nothing but thick, swirling gray clouds, spinning around me.

My chest tightens, and I almost lose my grip on my regulator.

Wes’s words from our training ring in my mind.

Stop. Breathe. Think. Act. I grip the dive line like a lifeline and try to steady my breaths.

Yet, the silt obscuring my vision won’t settle, and my head spins as my heart threatens to beat itself right out of my chest.

Although it seems like forever, Wes is by me in seconds. His grip on my arm is steady.

“Stop. Don’t move,” Wes says through the comms.

I freeze as he unhooks his backup light and scans the area. His usual easygoing demeanor is gone, replaced by tense focus.

“Calm down—we’re safe here. We have plenty of air.

But you need to slow your breathing. Don’t hold your breath.

” He pauses, watching me as I try to calm my breaths.

“We’ll wait a little while for the silt to settle, then we’ll go home.

” He holds my hand and gives it a tight squeeze.

I try very hard to focus on his words and calm down, but it’s a struggle.

What I’ve done is very dangerous, and I’ve put both of us at risk.

Once the silt settles, Wes turns to me. His expression behind his mask is a mix of exasperation and concern. He taps his mask. Pay attention.

Embarrassment prickles my skin. After he guides me back into the main cavern, I lean against the limestone wall and just breathe in relief.

He signals to prepare our ascent, but as I reach to move forward, there’s a sharp tug at the back of my head. My heart leaps into my throat. My hair is caught on a jagged piece of limestone. I scream through the regulator.

Green eyes lock on mine.

“Don’t move.” He signals vehemently with his hands while also speaking into the comms.

I stay as still as possible, fighting back another surge of panic as I almost spit out the regulator. A sharp headache and wave of dizziness hits me. I’m going to pass out. Wes swiftly removes a dive knife from his suit vest.

I focus on my breathing, on Wes’s presence.

With one slice, I’m free. Wes grabs my arm, and together, we ascend immediately. I’m vaguely aware of the ascent, like I’m in the middle of a dream.

Breaking the surface, Wes tears off my mask, and I gasp for air as sunlight blazes overhead. Wes climbs to the boat first and pulls me up with steady hands, pulling me the rest of the way up the ladder. His face is pale, but his grip is firm.

“Are you okay?” He crouches before me and holds my shoulders. After a moment, he lifts my chin. A flash of fear crosses his face. Then he takes a deep breath. “You’re okay.”

Tears roll down my eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

“Ssh… It’s okay.” He puts his arms around me.

“…so stupid. I’m sorry, I—”

“You kept your head when it mattered. That’s what’s most important.” He’s rubbing my back, trying to get me to calm down. “But dammit, this place doesn’t forgive mistakes. Never do that again. Ever.”

I nod, his words sinking into my chest like stones. I’m still trying to catch my breath and stop crying. My breathing becomes more raspy and uneven, and then I can’t breathe at all.

An anxiety attack. But this is worse.

Panicked, my eyes lock on Wes’s. All blood leaves his face.

And then nothing.