Dead Waters - Anton Strout [69]
“So, what are you hoping for here?” Jane asked.
“An abnormal number of boats have gone down in these parts,” I said. “Some blame it on the currents, some fires. . . but if Professor Redfield was working on a film about this location, I want to know what he discovered, because there’s a connection between him, the woman in green, and those ghosts up on the bridge. If I can get my hands on any pieces of the boats down there, maybe I can get some insight into at least just what the hell really happened to those people here.”
“There has to be something more to this location than the mundane,” Connor added. “All those ghosts wouldn’t still be here unless something terribly traumatizing had happened to them.”
“So we’re floating over a mass grave,” Jane said, looking a little sick. “Nice.” She gave me a forced smile. “You take me to the most romantic places.”
“It was this or the mutant alligator cleanup in the sewers that Shadower Division got stuck with,” I said.
“Good choice,” she said. Jane wrapped her arm around me while we waited on the winch to unwind, leaning her head on my shoulder.
Connor killed the switch after a few minutes of running it, and an eerie silence filled the air. “This is the creepiest fishing trip ever,” I said.
Jane giggled and Connor turned to her. “Why don’t you two go run the engine? We’ll trawl back and forth until we hook something, and then haul it up.”
Jane saluted him. “Aye, aye, Captain,” she said, her chipperness bordering on sickeningly sweet, before she skipped off to the cabin.
I left Connor fussing with the winch and headed to the cabin after her. I hit the engine and the boat chugged to life. I eased it up to speed, not wanting to tax the poor boat too much, not with the way the budget stacked up against us. I feared that if anything broke or needed repairs, it might have to come out of my own pocket at this point.
I worked the boat back and forth across the area underneath the bridge, the steady sound of the engine and roll of the boat luring me into a very sleepy state. Only when the boat jerked to a halt and the two of us fell to the floor of the cabin did I snap to.
I scrabbled to get back on my feet, but it was difficult to do with my flailing girlfriend trying to do the same. The boat tossing back and forth only added to the chaos in the wheelhouse.
“Kill the engine, kid!” Connor shouted from somewhere at the back of the boat.
I finally managed to get to my feet, reaching for the support of the cabin wall, but the boat lurched once more, throwing me against the opposite wall, pressing me up against the back window.
Through it I watched as Connor wrapped himself around the cable using his whole body, but his weight wasn’t enough to shake the line free. It pulled against the power of the boat, the back of it sinking down from the calamitous physics of it all. I pressed away from the window, but until the boat reversed pitch, I wouldn’t be able to move.
“Jane!” I shouted, but she was already working on stopping the boat. She was down on the floor once again, but she didn’t need to stand to use her powers. She slammed her hand against the base of the control console and whispered her strange electronic voice to it, her technomancy killing the whining engine. The boat fell silent and settled, allowing Jane and me to get to our feet. We walked out onto the back of the boat where Connor held on to the nowslack cable.
“Well, we found something,” he said.
Jane walked over and flicked at the loose cable in his hand, watching it wobble. “Did we lose it?” she asked.
Connor tugged on the cable, pulling against the slack. The line went taut in his hand. “No, I think we still got it,” he said. “ I’m pretty sure we freed it up. Whatever it is.”
Connor threw the lever back on the winch, but nothing happened. The power was still off. Connor looked over to Jane. “If you wouldn’t mind . . .”
“Sorry,” Jane said, and touched her hand to the mechanism.