Ghost Ship (NUMA Files 12)

“You mean besides my grunting at having to do all the work?”

“I’m serious.”

Paul gripped the shovel. He and Elena still carried sidearms, Ruger SR9s, made in Prescott, Arizona, but no one seriously thought they’d be needed once they discovered the radar target was an abandoned ship.

Gamay used the beam of her light to scan the area. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary.

“Maybe it’s a giant spider,” Paul whispered. “Momma spider to all those little babies we found.”

Gamay gave him a light smack on the shoulder. “I’m serious. I have a bad feeling about this.”

Beside them, Elena unlatched the holster strap on her sidearm and put her hand on the grip of the pistol like a gunfighter getting ready to draw.

A light breeze rustled the leaves around them and faded away. As it did, Paul heard something too. It was low and raspy, like the sound of labored breathing. It lasted for no more than a few seconds and then ceased. He looked around in the growth but saw nothing.

“You heard it too,” Gamay said. “Didn’t you?”

More like their minds were playing tricks on them, Paul thought. “You two and your ghost ship,” he said. “Let’s not get all jumpy.”

Elena nodded and took her hand off the pistol grip.

“I’m going to keep an eye out for disembodied spirits,” Gamay said.

Paul nodded, returning to the work at hand. “Especially any that might be interested in digging.”

With renewed vigor, he continued the excavation. Soon enough, the paddle struck something hard. Brushing the debris away, he spotted the rusted steel plate. “We’ve hit the wall,” he said. “Literally.”

They widened out the channel and came upon a hatch. Attempting to pry it open was useless, but they continued to dig and uncovered a half-shattered window. Clearing the remaining glass away, Paul looked inside.

“What do you see?”

“It’s like a cave,” Paul said. “The silt has filled most of the room, but farther in it seems to lessen.”

“I’m surprised it isn’t filled to the top,” Elena said.

Paul wondered about that. “Maybe the foliage on the outside became matted at some point. After that, it might have acted like a shell. Although it seems to have let moisture in. The sediment looks smooth and wet, packed down like sand on the beach after the tide recedes.”

As he panned the beam of the flashlight around, the light seemed to be swallowed up. They were certainly looking into a voluminous space.

He stepped back. “Who wants the honor?”

Elena shook her head. Gamay did the same, gesturing to the opening. “This was your idea.”

Being as large as he was, Paul did not enjoy cramped spaces. It wasn’t true claustrophobia, just a practical sense that tight spaces were not suited for someone his size. But Gamay was right, it was his idea.

Stepping back to the opening, he made sure there were no residual shards of glass in the sill, then climbed up and over. “Once more into the breach,” he said, to groans from his audience.

Squeezing through the gap, Paul made it onto the damp sediment. The soil was compacted and damp.

“Any spiders?” Gamay called out.

“Not that I can see.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

With that established, Gamay crawled in after him.