“I really wish I could.”
Twenty
Callan
“Stay here,” I told Sloane quietly.
She was already standing near the door to the director’s office, eyes wide but steady.
“Lock it behind me.”
Her mouth opened like she wanted to argue, but she noticed the look on my face and stopped herself. Slowly, she nodded.
“Callan… be careful.”
I gave a short nod and reached beside the door, grabbing the speargun I’d pulled from storage the night before. The metal shaft was cold and heavier than I remembered. I checked the tension line without thinking—muscle memory from years of dive work kicking in.
I hoped to God my aim was still good, because if it wasn’t, this might gosideways fast.
I stepped into the hallway and pulled the office door shut behind me. A quiet click told me Sloane had locked it.
Good.
The aquarium was eerie in the early light. Long corridors of glass and water curved away from me in both directions, and the spiral walkway winding down around the central tank disappeared into the shadows below.
Somewhere down there, something had made that noise.
I tightened my grip on the speargun and started moving.
Please. Be only one. Please don’t let there be more.
I crept to the edge of the spiral walkway and leaned over the railing, scanning the levels beneath me.
At first—nothing. Simply the massive central tank, that towering cylinder of blue water stretching from the bottom floor to the ceiling above. Smaller habitat tanks branched off each level, holding their separate little worlds.
There.
Three levels down.
My stomach dropped.
A figure stood pressed against the glass of the central tank, forehead resting on the surface. Completely still. Almost peaceful, the way it leaned there, like it was watching the fish move.
I didn’t breathe.
I waited, eyes sweeping the surrounding shadows, looking for more.
Nothing.
Only one.
I started down the walkway, each step slow and deliberate, weight on the balls of my feet, keeping the metal from ringing out through the open space.
The odor reached me two levels up—rot. Thick and sour, it coated the back of my throat. The thing shifted against the glass, its shoulder dragging with a faint squeak.
And then I saw the lanyard, bright blue, hanging from its neck.
“Jason…” I whispered before I could stop myself.