A New York Nightmare! by Barry Hutchison

Author:Barry Hutchison [Barry Hutchison]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781788000406
Publisher: Nosy Crow
Published: 2018-10-22T16:00:00+00:00

What emerged through the opening was … nothing at all. The doors parted, revealing the patch of water directly behind it, a couple of startled-looking fish and not a whole lot else.

“Well, that’s an anti-climax,” Weinberg said. “Huh. Looks like it’s nothing to worry about.”

Denzel was about to point out that she probably shouldn’t tempt fate like that, when the space in the centre of the doorway began to glow an eerie shade of green.

The light quickly became a thrashing, churning, heaving mass of glowing bubbles that whipped the water around them into a frenzied spinning whirlpool.

“You had to say it, didn’t you?” yelped Denzel. “You just had to say it.”

“Uh, we should probably go,” said Weinberg, steering herself around in her Subsea Suit and firing up the propellers.

“You think?” Denzel said, kicking frantically with his flippers as he squeezed on the throttle buttons.

“Going to open channel. Martinez!” Weinberg said, and suddenly Martinez’s voice was echoing around in Denzel’s fishbowl-like helmet.

“Martinez here. What’s going on?”

“Nothing good,” said Weinberg. “We’re returning to the surface. Get ready with—”

A gush of bubbles whooshed past Denzel from behind, catching him in their slipstream and dragging him through the water. He spun out of control, his light swinging wildly through the dark water as he flipped and rolled on the sudden current.

“Weinberg, help!” he called, but the only reply was the sound of bubbling water that was all around him now, hurtling him onwards.

WHUMP!

One of Denzel’s shoulders slammed into a piece of debris, sending a shockwave of pain crashing through him.

The impact spun him out of the path of the bubble torrent and he hit the riverbed hard, churning the sediment up into thick brown clouds around him. The head-mounted torch flickered twice, then went off. Denzel managed to stretch the arms of the suit above his head until he found the light. He hit it a few times, then sighed with relief when the light returned.

“Weinberg. I’m OK,” he said.

Silence.

“Hey, Weinberg,” said Denzel, his tightening throat turning his voice into a croak. “You there?”

No response.

“Martinez?”

Nothing.

“Oh good,” Denzel whispered. “Either my radio got knocked out or everyone’s dead.”

He realised the bubbles had stopped. The water was silent again. Too silent, almost. Other than the echo of his own breathing, Denzel could hear nothing at all.

Still, he was alive and in one piece, so things weren’t all bad. He gave the joysticks in his gloves a try and the Subsea Suit whirred into life. No damage there either then. In many ways, he’d actually had a pretty lucky escape.

Krick.

Denzel’s eyes crossed as he watched a tiny hairline crack appear in the glass of his helmet. He swallowed. “Oh, come on,” he whispered.

Krick.

Denzel kicked off from the floor of the Hudson, churning the silt and dirt around as he launched himself towards the surface, squeezing both throttle triggers for dear life. The Subsea Suit propelled him upwards through the water. As he rose towards the surface, the all-consuming blackness lightened, gradually becoming a deep, brooding shade of green.

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