The Scuba Club by Rene Fomby (The Gavin Larson Chronicles 1)
English | 2020 | Mystery & Thriller | ePUB | 3.3 MB
Six friends dove into the water that night.
But only five came out alive.
Was the death of a US Senator’s daughter on a night dive off the coast of Mexico just a tragic accident—or was it something far more sinister? That’s what former FBI Agent Gavin Larson has been sent to find out.
The Mexican Federales in charge of the case have ordered all the suspects to remain onboard their luxury yacht while the investigation proceeds. But when a body turns up, Gavin finds himself stuck on the boat as well. With an unknown killer lurking just around the corner and a Category Five hurricane bearing down on all of them, threatening at any moment to send the tiny yacht and its nine inhabitants to the very bottom of the deep blue sea.
A frollicking modern twist on the classic Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express, The Scuba Club meets up with a band of former high school football stars, now deep in their tenth annual celebration of their greatest lifetime achievement, a Texas state championship in their senior years. This time they’ve brought their wives and girlfriends to tiny Cozumel Island, and with a major tropical storm building have decided to risk one last dive, a night dive in unusually strong currents with a sketchy dive master taking the lead. What could possibly go wrong?
Tiny pinpoints of light swirled around him in the endless black expanse, some soaring overhead, a few more slipping past him underneath. It was a fairyland almost completely devoid of color, soundless except for his own labored breathing and the small bubbles rising slowly from his mouth.
Where are they?
He had torn his eyes away for only a few seconds, but in this current, even one second was more than enough time to spell imminent danger. Glancing back over his shoulder, he saw that his buddies had drifted down the reef several dozen feet or more, and with a strong kick he rushed to catch up. But as it turned out, it wasn’t his diving group, after all—it was someone else, another group entirely. Spinning around in a slow pirouette, he tried desperately to locate his friends among the swarm of almost identical dark wetsuits and underwater lights, but it was no use. He was lost, sixty feet or so beneath the surface, which meant he was now plumb out of alternatives. He had to go up, and hope to find them all on the surface. Plan the dive, dive the plan. Except now the entire plan had gone pear shaped on him, and it was time to abort.
He kicked his fins, pushing hard in the direction of what he hoped was up, and his dive computer told him he was right as his depth crept slowly toward zero. In his panic, he had forgotten to breathe, a deadly mistake to make during this kind of ascent, so he quickly blew out his air and sucked in another small puff, holding his inflator high above his head to vent the extra gas in his vest as he rose. At twenty feet he paused for a safety stop, holding his depth for several more minutes to let the nitrogen seep out of his blood, protecting him from the dreaded “bends.” Time he also needed to process what had just happened.
The current near the surface was even stronger than it was at the bottom, where the reefs surrounding him provided some small degree of shelter, and he was now quickly being swept north, the lights below him disappearing into the night, leaving him all alone in the black emptiness of the endless sea. Despite all his training and experience, he began to panic.
How long had it been?
He checked his dive computer, but only half a minute had elapsed since he had first leveled off. He also noticed he had slipped up to fifteen feet, probably from holding his breath again, so he exhaled deeply to drop back down to his safety depth. Ever so slowly his watch ticked down the last few minutes, and when it showed ten seconds left he gave up and started kicking his way to the surface.