Tusker was dropping faster now, any buoyancy he had higher up long gone. The ocean was reeling him in. He inflated his wing with what seemed like a lot of air, and his descent finally slowed. He was deep enough now that it would be safe to switch on his torch. As he did, something big flashed just in front of him and then was gone. He felt a pulse of current from its thrust. A big fish? A whale? A giant squid ascending after dark to feed? He cast the beam of his torch around in wide arcs. Nothing. Did he imagine it? Never mind the wildlife. Time to find that shipwreck. Tusker was both glad and worried to see the sea floor below him. He hadn’t overshot and ended up in the abyss, but the moonscape of the bottom also meant he’d missed the wreck.

He checked the heading on his compass. He had no idea in which direction the Vampire lay, so he would have to swim big patterns until he found the ship: off in one direction for 20 seconds, then a right-angle turn, then swim another 20 seconds and so on until he’d returned to his starting point. He’d increase his swim times and do the same pattern until he bumped into the wreck.

On his third turn, something in the torch beam caught his eye. On the seafloor, what looked like a box. Tusker swam over and examined it. It was an ammunition box, and next to it, some .50-caliber shells lay strewn on the silty bottom. The ship had to be close by. He swung the torch beam around and saw something else in the distance, reflecting back the light. It looked huge and silver.

Tusker swam slowly in the direction of this shimmering object. It got brighter as he got closer and seemed to be moving, rippling. Then, when he was almost on top of it, it exploded into a thousand pieces. It had been a swirling school of silver amberjacks, swimming in a choreographed vortex. They’d scattered. He shook his head, groggy from the depth and rattled by this apparition. Now he’d have to resume his swimming pattern. He had to find that wreck, but his bottom gas would only last 40 minutes and he’d used up four on his search.

As he turned to start swimming, he brushed against something. A wall of coral, rising up from the bottom. And—yes—a perfect circle. A porthole. He’d found the Vampire.

Terminal Depth

On board the DSV Depth Charge. 30 minutes earlier.