Page 2 of Darkest Dredge

We'd been out at sea on our little research vessel—coined The Clamburglar—for weeks. This was supposed to be the spot. Months, years of research had led to this. And so far, nothing. The threat of having to go back to land with empty pockets was looming. The pressure was getting to us. We'd sunk so much money into this expedition, but much more was riding on it. We'd bet our reputations on this trip.

It wasn't just the lack of specimens getting to us. These were strange waters, covered by a near-constant fog so thick, it was impossible to see the horizon most days. The nights were worse, with nothing but jet black waves that bled into the equally dark night for miles. It was advised by the local fisherman to avoid sailing at night. We ignored their advice. We were here on a mission, and what we were looking for only came out at night.

I exhaled in relief. “Thank fuck. I’m sick of white fish.”

Opening my tattered notebook I used for field research notes, I began to doodle our soon-to-be dinner. There was nothing special about the specimen, but I needed something to do while I pretended not to ogle my shipmate… Though I absolutely was. Hard not to, with how despicably hot Noah was, especially while doing manual labor.

His raven-black hair spilled over his amber eyes, plastered down by his blue beanie. His throat tattoo—a monochrome band of Lovecraftian runes that wrapped around his neck—poked out from his jacket. Even under his heavy layers, his hardened physique was evident in the way his muscles strained against the fabric.

I peeked at him through my bangs as he placed the large crab in a holding bucket and continued his search through the trap. Dungeness crabs, a sea star, and even a small octopus had wandered into the netted contraption.

One by one, Noah tossed them back into the water.

If my father, who’d been a fisherman all his life, was here, he’d lose his mind at all the good catches we threw back. Unlike Dad, we didn’t make our living selling our catch. Not when these waters had something far more valuable to offer.

“You should go inside. It’s getting nippy; it might snow soon,” Noah grunted.

Watching him in his element had a way of warming my whole body. I agreed anyway and stood while rubbing the impression the bucket’s sharp rim left on my butt. “Alright. I’ll start on dinner. But it’s your turn for galley duty tomorrow…” My words trailed off when he pulled something unusual from the pot. I hedged forward, jaw dropping. “Woah. Great Barrier Reef. What is that?”

Chapter Two

Beatrice

I gaped at the wriggling fish in Noah’s grasp, unable to take my eyes off it, even as I opened my sketchbook and started scribbling.

This thing was a beast, so large Noah—who wasn’t a small man—had to hoist it up with both hands.

The tendons and muscles in his arms strained against his inked flesh while he kept the thing in the air so I could quickly sketch its strange features. “Bea. This isn’t normal. This…”

He trailed off, but he didn’t have to finish. I was thinking it too.

This is what we’re looking for.

The specimen’s gasping mouth was filled with long, needle-like teeth that reminded me of an angler more than anything. It was shaped more like a sunfish, and had translucent flesh, offering a look at its black pulsating guts.

While the rest of the crab pot was filled with ordinary catch, this fish suffered an otherworldly mutation. Meaning one thing alone:

We were close.

“Our calculations weren’t so far off, after all,” Noah muttered, his voice rife with contemplation as we examined our wondrous find. “Do you know what this means, Bea?”

My eyes lifted from the fish to lock with Noah’s. The hope banked in those twin pools of amber had my heart racing.

I nodded. “The sunken city. It’s real.”

Of course, we had hoped it was real. Otherwise, this entire expedition was for nothing. Still, this was the first tangible evidence in hand

My field of vision swam with emotion. Noah had believed in me, when no one else had.

I wanted to kiss him.

Maybe I would have finally found the courage, if it wasn’t for a flash of gold in the mutation’s stomach. My heart hammered as I stole closer across the deck to get a better look. “Did you see that? There’s something in there…”

“Cut it out.”

“But it’s a live specimen…”

“We’ll have to settle for a dead one if we want to find out what it’s swallowed,” Noah muttered as he lowered the fish onto the deck and pulled out his knife. “Hold it still while I cut. Careful of its teeth.”