He remained gazing down into the darkness, knowing this was different; he had no real idea what was down there. Or even what could be down there. His gut told him the armored Placoderm was just one of the denizens of this strange place. There would be others, and he just hoped they stayed down deep, ignoring the twelve-foot long flat thing that glided near silently on the surface, thousands of feet above them.

“Let’s go,” he whispered, unlocking their muscles once again.

They paddled on, maintaining a speed of three miles per hour, or around walking pace. They could have gone faster, but that would mean making more noise. Jack estimated at the rate they moved they’d be paddling for around thirty-two more hours. Cate and Abby would take over soon, but even then, it wasn’t possible to continue around the clock, and they hadn’t slept since they left the surface.

Jack watched Greg for a moment, checking for fatigue. The young scientist paddled smoothly. “All okay there?”

Greg nodded.

They’d push on for another few hours, Cate and Abby for a few more on top of that, but then would need to find somewhere dry to rest. Jack didn’t like the idea of sleeping in the raft. It was bad enough being in a near pitch-dark environment, but closing your eyes meant not being able to avoid even the most obvious danger.

Cate sniffed, and then leaned towards the water and inhaled. “Sulphur.” She narrowed her eyes and looked around, flicking on her light and playing it across the water’s surface. “The mist lifting off the water has a sulphurous tinge. I’m guessing this is the result of geological activity.”

Abby quickly dipped a hand over the side, cupped some water, and then bought it to her lips. “No real taste, other than salt, but I’m betting there might be some smoker vents down deep.”

Greg also cupped some water, sipped from his hand, and then spat a long stream back over the side.

“Keep paddling,” Jack said.

“Yes, master.” Greg grinned at Abby, and then turned to Cate. “Hey, shouldn’t one of you be beating a drum so us slaves can keep in rhythm?”

Cate half smiled. “I don’t know about a drum, but I know what does need a beating.”

Greg put on a shocked expression. “Easy now…” he laughed.

The sound of a heavy body moving through water shocked them to silence. It grew louder, and then stopped.

“What. The fuck. Was that?” Greg whispered, cringing.

“Keep paddling, easy and slow,” Jack said looking over his shoulder. “Uh Cate, while we’re doing this, can you please shine your light over the stern. Just for a little look-see?”

She nodded, swung around, and then held the flashlight in both hands, as she tilted it downwards.

“Oh god.”

She lifted the light.

“Stop paddling.”

*   *   *