Deep Rising (An Outside the Lines Novel) (Entangled Select)

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Authors: N.R. Rhodes

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BOOK: Deep Rising (An Outside the Lines Novel) (Entangled Select)
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DEEP RISING

An Outside the Lines novel

N.R. Rhodes

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by N.R. Rhodes. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

2614 South Timberline Road

Suite 109

Fort Collins, CO 80525

Visit our website at
www.entangledpublishing.com
.

Edited by Erin Molta

Cover design by Liz Pelletier

Ebook ISBN 978-1-62266-885-4

Print ISBN 978-1-62266-886-1

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition August 2013

The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: 007, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Barbie, BBC, Beretta, Bluetooth, Breitling, Bruce Lee, C-4, CIA, C-SPAN, Chevy, CheyTac, Cuisinart, Disney, Dragon Skin, Dumpster, Eagles, Ferrari, Ford, Glock, Humvee, Hyundai, Iron Man, James Bond, Jeep, Kevlar, Kodak, Kodiak, Mannlicher, Mercedes-Benz, Mr. Wizard, Mustang, NFL, NOAA,
Playboy
, Photoshop, Semtex, Swiss Army, Subaru, Suburban, Super Bowl, Superman, Suzy Homemaker, Tavor, USBS, Velcro, Versace.

For my husband, Frank. You are my best friend, my biggest fan, and the source of my strength. I love you more each day. For my mother, Vanessa. Everything I am, I owe to you. Carah, you are the greatest sister I could ever hope for. And to the little pumpkin, Christian, you bring joy to my life.

Table of Contents

Prologue

September 5 - 3:14 pm

The Isle of Capri, Italy

No sand. No shore. No gently breaking waves. The beach consisted of a rocky outcropping flanked by sheer cliffs and sparkling aquamarine waters. Only a cluster of sunbathers precariously perched, jockeying for an unobstructed view of the Mediterranean. Isabella Pisani wouldn’t have it any other way.

She sipped at the remnants of a limoncello martini before carefully placing the glass beside her lounge chair.

She stared at the tranquil waters, feeling far removed from the restaurant, her mother-in-law’s constant vigilance in the kitchen, and the incessant demands of tourists.
Oh, yes
, Isabella thought,
I deserve this mini-vacation
.

She nudged her cousin, but Ava mumbled something before her eyes slid shut again. Too much wine and dancing in the club last night. Celebrating Ava’s birthday had been fun, and for a few hours, she’d been free of the responsibilities of work and motherhood. But she missed her daughter, and why would she want to party in a somewhat desperate singles crowd when she had her husband, Giovanni, at home?

A group of children skipped past her chair and leaped off the cliff. Their tanned little bodies made Isabella think of her own little girl, and she smiled. Amidst their splashing and laughter, she noticed that the water had significantly receded. She leaned forward for a better view.

People shouted. One man screamed repeatedly, “Correte!”

Another gestured wildly. “Run!” he yelled.

“Ava! Get up!”

Isabella grabbed Ava’s arm and shoved her off the lounge chair.

“Damn it, Bella!” Ava stumbled. “What the hell?”

Isabella pointed to the sea.

Ava’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh. Dio!”

Together they sprinted for the sheer rock wall.

People reacted now, running, shoving, fighting to make their way to the lone set of stairs leading up the cliffs.

Isabella thought of her daughter, her precious beautiful daughter, and Giovanni. She thought of how she’d told him she didn’t want to take this mini-vacation.

Then a seventy-foot wall of water slammed into her.

Obliterating the beach. Obliterating everything.

Chapter One

September 6
-
7:52 am

Sierra Madre Ridge

Outside of Guatemala City

“So this is what hell looks like,” Svetlana Orskya whispered.

The crater spanned four hundred feet across and was so deep that light ceased to penetrate its depths. Lana dangled from a rope suspended over the abyss. Water roared beneath her, compliments of an underground river and a broken sewer main. Remnants of the housing complex crowded the lip of the crater, which halved the once-populated area, its surface littered with bedding, cookware, and abandoned household goods.

This was the third sinkhole to open in the last month. They perforated the town like holes in a sieve.

The temperature increased as Lana descended. She adjusted the rope and lowered herself another ten meters. Tendrils of mist twirled about her legs and along her arms like steam from a sauna. She considered the number of microbes rising from the pit and prayed she didn’t inhale something modern antibiotics couldn’t cure.

Another gust of hot air arced from the abyss, reminding her—as if she could forget while dangling inside a giant cavern within the earth’s crust—that the planet remained alive and active, and as tempestuous as a scorned woman.

Being divorced, she could relate.

Lana adjusted the rope and locked her harness. The hot air from below mixed with the cooler, drier air above, creating miniature convection currents. A particularly strong gust sent her reeling. With bone-jarring force, her shoulder rammed the wall of the crater.

That’s gonna leave a mark.

Although she would have preferred to hightail it to the surface, she couldn’t go anywhere until she obtained the requisite carbon dioxide, sulfur dioxide, and temperature readings. Then, perhaps, her team would be able to determine if the crater was an anomaly formed by the shifting lava pools deep beneath the earth’s surface and the result of limestone in the lower rock levels eroding—as scientists in the region claimed—or if it was a forewarning of something far more dangerous.

“Don’t get testy on me, girl,” Lana murmured. “I’m just taking your temperature. You don’t need to show off.”

The dark pit breathed hot, horrid air.

Lana extracted a correlation spectrometer, extended the COSPEC into the hadal depths, and waited to obtain a sulfur dioxide reading.

Her rope made an odd creaking sound, and Lana’s attention shot upward. Forty feet above, the line tangled on the side of the crater. When the sinkhole had opened, it had swallowed everything above it—buildings, homes, and three blocks of roadway, part of which hung like a rumpled concrete blanket, replete with tangled rebar. A jagged protrusion of twisted metal and asphalt snagged her rope. The seesaw motion succeeded in working over the line like giant scissors.

Lana grabbed the radio on her belt and called the surface. “Adam?” Her throat constricted until she could barely speak. “Adam, it’s Lana. Do you copy? Over.”

A pair of heads appeared at the lip of the crater.

“What’s up, Lana?”

“S-send another safety,” she breathed into the radio, her voice so hoarse she could barely form the words.

“You’re gonna have to yell, doll. I can’t hear over the sound of the water. What’s that you say?”

“I need another rope!” she screamed.

A light shone down, followed by a great deal of muffled commotion. A moment later, two heavy cords dropped into the crater. But they dangled beyond her reach.

She glanced below. There would be no surviving the fall. If she did survive the impact, the rushing water would sweep her along, forcing her deeper beneath the ground until she was pummeled to death or drowned. Fear shot up her spine, paralyzing her. She didn’t want to die. Dear God, not like this.

“Adam, h-help.” Her voice was barely audible over the roaring current.

“You’re gonna have to swing over to them,” he shouted. “If I get any closer to the wall, the rebar is gonna chew up these lines just like it did yours.”

Swing? Is he crazy?

Her gaze flew to the frayed strands of the yellow rope. With each passing second, tiny threads slowly unraveled, further straining the fibers. Her life was literally on the line, each moment peeling back like the damn rope. A shuddered breath, more of a whimper, slipped past her lips. She fought to breathe, to remain calm. She focused on the second line Adam had cast into the pit. Here was her chance. If she wanted to live, she needed to act. Now.

“Drop the probe,” Adam instructed. “Push off the wall and reach for the line. You can do it, doll. I know you can!”

But if I move, I’ll fray the rope more.

If I stay still, it’ll tear anyway
.

She was caught between a rock, a hard place, and a thirty-foot drop to her inevitable death. Terror made her muscles cramp and her movements awkward. Blood pounded in her ears.

“Do it, Lana! Now!”

She tucked her legs to her chest, and then extended them. Arching back, she repeated the motion. It took a few seconds to gain momentum, but she gradually started to swing.

The rope cried like a child.

“Hang on!” Adam shouted.

Lana glimpsed the length of yellow nylon. She stretched forward and heaved backward. On the next swing, she reached for the cord.

She missed.

“It’s fraying!”

The rope pitched her toward the wall, and she used her legs to strike against the jagged ledge. Her feet met metal. She pushed with all her strength and twisted in the harness, extending completely. When the rope came into focus, she willed her fingers to grasp it.

The line snapped as her hands brushed the cable, and she fell in a blur of flailing limbs.

The men atop the crater shouted. The darkness below purred.

Her fingers clasped the line. She clenched her hands into fists, squeezing hard. The cord tore through her hands as she slid farther, plummeting until the light at the surface faded to a hazy glow. She jerked to a halt. Her shoulders screamed from the strain.

Lana took one shuddering breath, then another. Nothing existed save the fetid air pounding in and out of her lungs and the lifeline clasped between her sweaty palms.

“We’re hooking you to the winch!” Adam yelled.

Her heart threatened to jackhammer from her chest, and the drumming in her ears grew louder. It eclipsed Adam’s voice, the sound of the hydraulic winch, even the roar of the water slapping at her feet. The sound intensified until her vision blurred.

The line rose in an erratic rhythm until she felt the final jerk that landed her on the surface. When her feet hit solid ground, she collapsed.

A collection of worried faces swam above her, some new, others reassuringly familiar. Her body trembled now, a natural reaction to the epinephrine coursing in her veins, and she didn’t fight it.

Warm brown eyes and a smiling face appeared before her. “It’s good to see you.” Adam crouched beside her and kissed her brow. “You okay?”

She didn’t trust her voice, so she nodded instead. It had been close, so close. She trembled at what might have been.

To the crowd he shouted, “Give us some space, please.” To the other members of the team he said, “Draw straws, kids. Somebody needs to get those measurements.”

Lana reached up and tapped Adam on the shoulder.

“What?” he intoned with his New York accent. “Shouldn’t you be swooning or sleeping or something?”

Lana found the strength to laugh. She reached into her hazmat suit and brandished the correlation spectrometer.

“You didn’t!”

Lana smiled. “I did.”

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