Not one to panic, Tabitha assured herself there were two bits of good news amongst all the bad. One, her batteries would allow her to see for a while, and also enable her to alert the crew of the Atlaua that she was in trouble. The second positive was that her escape trunk out the front had only been blocked from the outside, not crushed from within. Which meant the two escape suits, known as SEIE or Submarine Escape Immersion Equipment, were still there and accessible.
She’d have to time her donning of the gear, perfectly, to give her the maximum amount of air when she needed it. An SEIE would also provide thermal protection against the cold, buoyancy should she manage to get herself out of the sub, and decompression protection if she somehow lost consciousness on the way up. Even better, each suit had two pony tanks attached which would fill the interior cavity of her suit with air. At ten minutes of Nitrox apiece, they would give her an extra forty minutes of breathing time should she need it.
She was wrenched from her thoughts by an imperative voice from above.
“Submarine Endora, this is the Atlaua. Endora, do you read me? Are you okay?”
Tabitha sloshed through the inch of water that already had the floor awash, and picked up her mic, attempting to stay calm.
“Affirmative, Atlaua. This is Endora. I’m alive, but I have some bad news.”
CHAPTER 5
“Sothard. Wake up.”
Someone had grabbed his arm and was pulling on him none-too gently.
“Wha…? Did I miss my alarm?” Spencer garbled, batting at the hand and blinking rapidly to dispel sleep.
“No. But we have a problem.”
“Cap?”
It was definitely the skipper’s voice, but why the hell was he waking Spencer up?
“You’re needed on deck. Now. We have an emergency situation.”
The gravity in his captain’s voice had all traces of Spencer’s lassitude disappearing. He sat up and swung his legs from the bunk, jumping down instantly. He barely noted his bare feet hitting the cold floor.
“What’s going on?” he asked, already pulling on his pants.
“There’s been an earthquake.”
Well shit.
That would account for the rocking-hammock dream he’d been having.
“Damage to the ship?” he asked, his brain starting to fire on all cylinders as he made a mental list of all the things that could have been damaged.
“None. But our submarine operator’s vessel sustained heavy damaged. She took a direct hit with bridge debris, and she’s trapped inside her craft.”
Spencer’s lungs seized.Tabitha.
“Is she hurt?”
If she was injured, this wouldn’t go well. At all. Time would already be of the essence to extract her before her air supply ran out, but fortune would surely not be on their side if she needed urgent medical attention.
“She says she’s fine. She’s more concerned that she has no access to her conning tower or her emergency escape trunk in order to egress the sub. Adding to that cluster-fuck, there’s a slow leak.”
“Fuck. Uh, sorry Cap.”
“Not necessary. I’ve been saying it for the past five minutes.”
“How much time does she have before she’s flooded?” Spencer asked, immediately grasping the gravity of the situation.
“She estimates between three and four hours, with an additional forty minutes available because she also has four small tanks of oxygen that are part of two accessible escape suits. Which means she’ll eventually take advantage of the air bubble at the sub’s ceiling until it becomes too small, then she’ll hook up and activate her pony tanks in succession.”
Thank God for small favors. That extra time might give them a comfortable buffer.
