Arthur hovered just above the seabed, his flashlight beam cutting a weak path through the swirling silt. He worked with agonizing patience, his numb fingers prying the thick nylon mesh from the jagged outcrop of rock that had snagged it. He couldn’t afford a single tear in the net, so he untangled the cords inch by inch, ignoring the burning in his lungs. Once the mesh finally sagged free of the reef, he scanned the immediate area to ensure the rest of his gear was clear of the jagged stone.
That was when the light hit a shape that shouldn’t have been there—a rigid figure slumped in a hollow just a few feet away. It was an old-fashioned diving suit, a brass-headed relic from another era, its canvas limbs stiffened by decades of salt and pressure. The heavy lead boots were wedged into the sand, making it look like a silent sentry guarding the trench.
But it wasn’t the suit that caught Arthur’s breath; it was what lay tucked beneath its heavy, outstretched arm.