Vladimir Todorov - Archipelago N.Y. - Flynn

A dark and cavernous space opened up before him with a row of kiosks, buried under rubble and tangled cables. Flynn’s beam bounced off the broken monitors covering the sides of the kiosks. Tubes came out of the tops, connecting the kiosks to a rusted pipeline, hanging from the ceiling. To Flynn, the place looked no different than any other underwater site. He had scavenged such buildings many times over. He checked his map again, and swam past the kiosks, looking at the numbers stenciled on their monitor screens. According to the map, he had to find a kiosk with the number 17 on it. Stopping at the one marked 10, Flynn then began to count seven spaces down, until he had found what he was looking for. The glass on the monitor screen was gone and it was now just a dark box. According to the map, his target had to be inside!

That was easy, Flynn thought. Without hesitating, he plunged his hand through the screen’s hole. His fingers touched the bottom and started groping for the target. Suddenly, they fell on a small object. His target! Grabbing it, Flynn tried to pull it out, but the object didn’t move. Something soft and very much alive was holding the target down. A second later, Flynn felt his hand locked in a tight grip. And then, a sharp pain shot through his wrist. He winced and tried to pull his arm out of the hole, but whatever had caught him wouldn’t let go. It was now tugging hard at his hand, pulling it back in. Trapped against the kiosk, Flynn realized that he was struggling to hold his breath! He knew that panic was every diver’s worst enemy… he had to stay calm, or all would be lost!

Anchoring his feet at the base of the kiosk and using all his strength, Flynn managed to pull his arm out. But it came wrapped in a bundle of bright red tentacles, followed by the bulbous body of a giant octopus. Still clutching the target, Flynn realized that his fingers were dangerously close to the hard beak of the octopus’ mouth. An inch or two, and his hand would be gone! Duncan Roth had warned them about surprises… Well, this was a very nasty one… and potentially lethal, Flynn thought as he reached for his diving knife. In one swift move, he had pulled the blade from his harness and was slashing at the tentacles. The octopus let go of his hand and furiously jetted away in a cloud of black ink. But the brief struggle had caused Flynn to lose his grip on the target. It was now attached to one of the tentacles and slipping quickly out of his reach. Waving the knife blindly at the murky ink cloud, Flynn managed to slice the tentacle off and grab it before it had disappeared together with the octopus.

Clutching Duncan Roth’s target, Flynn swam out of the building, his ears ringing and his lungs screaming for air. He had spent too much time at the bottom. Now, he had to get up to the bell as quickly as possible, or risk drowning. Surfacing under its dome and having taken a deep breath of air, Flynn let out a loud cry of relief. He knew he had just cheated death. A few more seconds, and he would have been gone! Flynn pulled the hose, waiting for more fresh air to come in, thanking Tony and his lucky stars for the second time that day.

With his breathing back to normal, Flynn removed the remaining bits of tentacle still stuck to his wrist. Then he took a closer look at the target. It was a small, purple glass bottle… Nothing special, he thought, but to him it was the most valuable scavenged find, ever! Careful not to drop it, Flynn put the target in his pouch, making sure it was safely tucked inside. Now it was time to get back to the surface and finish the race… Flynn pulled the hose again to let Tony know he was coming up, took one final deep breath and swam out.

He had only made a couple of strokes when he saw that Pharrell’s diving bell was moving. But instead of going up, the bell was sinking slowly toward the bottom! Its oxygen supply hose had been cut and left to dangle, a spray of air bubbles shooting out of its severed end. Flynn caught a glimpse of a boy swimming away, but he knew immediately it wasn’t his friend… Someone, half the size of Pharrell, had just destroyed the bell and was now making a quick escape.

Flynn looked back at the partially collapsed bell and to his horror, realized it wasn’t empty. There was a body trapped inside… And it could only be Pharrell, Flynn thought! As he got closer, he saw his friend kicking, trying frantically to get out. Without thinking, Flynn dove after the bell. Seconds later, he was slashing at the mangled dome with his knife. Somehow, Pharrell was able to push free, his eyes bulging, bubbles of air gurgling out of his mouth and nose. Flynn knew there was no time to get to the surface. He grabbed Pharrell’s hand and using all of his remaining strength, managed to swim back to the safety of his own diving bell.

Once inside, it took a good minute before Pharrell stopped coughing and gasping for air. “Thanks bro!” he finally said, his eyes full of gratitude. “You could’ve left me there!”

“Yeah, right! Did you see who did this to you?”

“No man, I was inside the bell! Just saw a blade slice through the plastic, and then water started pouring in… Next thing I know, the bell was taking me down!”

“Got your target?” Flynn asked.

Pharrell nodded. “Had to fight an eel for it, though.”

“The Rottweiler didn’t make it easy, did he?” Flynn looked at his wrist, still swollen from the tentacle’s suckers.

“He sure as hell didn’t.” Pharrel showed him the red welt on his forearm. “Booby trapped those targets real nice.”

They both laughed.

“Let’s get out of here!” Pharrel said.

Flynn swam out and up towards the surface, followed by his friend. Their heads popped up at the same time, a few feet away from their rafts. Pharrell swam toward his, where Clay was kneeling over the severed air hose and clearly in a state of sheer panic.

“I’m OK!” Pharrell called out to his Crew Mate. “I’m safe, bro!”

The look of relief on Clay’s face was indescribable.

“Race ya, Perry!” Pharrell shouted over his shoulder.

“All the way, pal!”

Flynn scanned the canal and spotted another head bobbing in the water, not far from the Seeker . It was one of the Gallagher twins, staring after Pharrell. The boy caught Flynn’s eyes, frowned and swam quickly back to his own raft. Flynn wondered if he was the one who had knifed Pharrell’s diving bell. And then, it struck him how lucky they had been. The Gallagher twin could have destroyed Flynn’s bell too… But there was no time to dwell on any of that… every second was precious… Shaking his head to get the water out of his ears and with a few powerful strokes, Flynn was back to his raft.

“You OK, amigo? Got the target?” asked Tony, his voice full of concern.

“Yeah!” Flynn hoisted himself up and jumped on the seat with his diving gear still on.

“What was all that about?” Tony pointed towards Pharrell’s raft. “His buddy went nuts!”

“Someone tried to kill Pharrell,” said Flynn, his feet on the pedals. “Let’s go.”

As soon as Tony sat down next to him, Flynn started pedaling. Pharrell’s raft was already a fair distance ahead of them. The Seeker chased in its wake. The other teams were not too far behind, and finishing in the top three was going to be tough! Flynn knew Pharrell would be taking a break now, while his Crew Mate was strong and rested. It would be Clay plowing ahead on the pedals. Then, the two boys would switch… Flynn had to do it all on his own. Tony was in no shape to take turns. But as tired as Flynn felt, he was going to do his best to catch up to Pharrell. The raft ahead was gaining speed, but so was the Seeker .