Vanguard | Post-Apocalyptic YA

Part 27: Nettle Mettle

"The port engine is stalled, sir," Ray says while madly pressing buttons and flipping switches to get it started again. It's a no-go. The ferry tilts once more and while still shaking, starts on a counterclockwise spin downward. Returning both hands to the yoke, Ray struggles to pull it toward him.

"Warning. Depth level hazardous at twenty feet," the computer answers as a red light blinks within the cockpit.

"Shut up! We know!" I yell at the machine while also grabbing hold of the steering module in front of me with one hand before flipping a switch with the other. "Dual-control activated," I say, panting for breath.

My arm muscles are straining, but with two pilots now pulling on the yoke, we manage to stop the rapid descent in just a few seconds. But having only one working engine while still in a slow, flat spin will make it impossible to completely steady the craft.

"Cut the engine, Stingray," I command.

"Sir?" he asks, knowing full well that without propulsion, we're going to crash land right on the seabed that's still fifteen feet below us.

"Just do it and get ready to reboot on my mark," I say.

He sighs. "Cutting the engine in three seconds. Three . . . two . . . engine down," he says.

For a moment, everything goes still. The hull stops shaking. There is no sound. Not a hum or a small vibration. Even the jellies have thinned out as we've moved under the critical mass of the swarm. The multi-ton submarine now just floats from the prior momentum.

But it's only for a split second.

When gravity and the other natural laws of physics finally take over, the ferry's nose tips ever so slightly down. The weight behind the craft then pushes the whole thing straight toward the bottom of the ocean.

The navigation system doesn't even have a chance to count down the decreasing depth levels for the remaining few feet, but the red lights keep on blinking and it's effing annoying. Sweat drips into my eyes, blurring the view as I press a button to release the rest of our ballast. As the seawater is expelled through vents in the bottom of the craft, the pressure cushions our descent. Even so, the metal hull would hit the seabed hard.

It would hit it hard, if I didn't issue my next command.

"Starboard engine on NOW!" I yell at Ray as the readout on the screen in front of me shows us just two feet from the ground.

The engine roars back to life, and I simultaneously pull up on the yoke. There's a dip in my stomach from the sudden change in elevation as we stop going down and instead suddenly ascend. The feeling is fleeting as I level our depth just as swiftly.

"Warning. Depth level catastrophic at five feet," the navigation system says, but I just laugh.

"Naw. We're good," I say before turning to Ray and holding my hand out my clenched fish.

With a smile, he gives it a bump. "You are an absolute maniac, man," he says with a deep exhale, shaking his head.

"And that's why you love me," I reply with a wink.

"What the hell was all that?" Nelly asks from the jump seat behind us. I had almost forgotten she was even here.

"Good piloting, that's what," I say as I look over my shoulder. "You're welcome, by the way."

"You're welcome?" she asks sarcastically, scrunching her face together in disdain. She's still cute as hell, though. "You nearly killed us. And for what?"