gather her senses. She took a calming breath, and slowly backed down the ladder. The uneasy feeling in her stomach didn’t lessen even when her feet were firmly planted on the concrete floor.
Taking another deep breath, she tried to get a hold of her emotions. Shaking her head, she realized how foolish she was being.
Help me, please.
Jamie almost wet her shorts. There was no way she could mistake that. A “help me” could be a figment of her imagination, but not a “please”.
“Wha…wh…” She couldn’t make her tongue form the words, as she sputtered nonsense.
Please, help me. I’m dying.
She hadn’t even realized she had moved until her legs backed up hard against the steel door. Panic was seizing her heart, making it impossible for her to take a breath.
“Jesus, Jamie. Get your cute behind in here now. I need you to analyze this!” came the screaming voice of Caskett from behind the closed door.
Jamie was only too happy to oblige. Work. The best thing to get my mind off what most definitely did not happen in there. She yanked the door open and took one last look at the creature as it turned in the water.
* * *
Chapter Two
Seth felt good. He hadn’t felt this good in years. He and his brother had ridden out the storm aboard the yacht. They had talked almost like old times. While Seth still hadn’t told him why he’d called, they had devised a plan to get the shells that were crucial to their world out of human hands.
Tonight the two of them would steal the shells from the institute where they suspected Caskett was holding them. After that, Seth vowed to tell his brother the truth.
Scooping up the driftwood that had been thrown onto his beach from last night’s storm, he also managed to gather up all of the newspapers and magazines littering his yard. He stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes scanned the science magazine that had a small headline about ancient shells found off the coast of Nova Scotia having been sent to the London Museum of Antiquity for classification.
Groaning, he stomped inside. Gone was his good mood. He flexed the muscles in his arms involuntarily as he tried to control his raging emotions. Time was catching up with him.
Trying to smooth out the magazine he wanted to tear to shreds, he scanned the brief article once more. A large picture of a beaming Caskett took up most of the page.
The inscription under the photo caption made his stomach churn. It read, “I believe the etchings on these turtle shells are an ancient language belonging to an ancient race that lived in the sea”. With the photo caption attributed to Caskett, Seth said a silent prayer to the gods that people would simply view the scientist as out to lunch.
Seth knew he needed a plan of action. He had to get those shells out of human hands before the truth was exposed.
As much as he loved the rustic rural life, his spacious office was a beehive of electronic gadgets. He viewed it as command central. He pressed a red button and within minutes was connected with all of his family members who lived on land.
“We have a problem. The ancient sea turtle shells have been found. While we speak, they are being investigated. We need to get them back immediately. I’m going to fly out to London tomorrow. Melina, meet me at the airport. I want everyone to rendezvous at Melina’s in two nights. We will do whatever it takes to get them back. Is that understood?” he asked, knowing full well there would be no objections. There never were.
His family simply viewed his word as law. Deep down, he hated that. Disconnecting, he turned his attention to packing. Seth wasn’t surprised when the phone rang. He’d been expecting it.
“Did you see the article?” Darius asked.
“Yeah, I did. How did you?” asked Seth, knowing full well his brother was en route to the Grand Banks to rendezvous with a group of Florida businessmen interested in purchasing more whales. Darius told him last night
Taking another deep breath, she tried to get a hold of her emotions. Shaking her head, she realized how foolish she was being.
Help me, please.
Jamie almost wet her shorts. There was no way she could mistake that. A “help me” could be a figment of her imagination, but not a “please”.
“Wha…wh…” She couldn’t make her tongue form the words, as she sputtered nonsense.
Please, help me. I’m dying.
She hadn’t even realized she had moved until her legs backed up hard against the steel door. Panic was seizing her heart, making it impossible for her to take a breath.
“Jesus, Jamie. Get your cute behind in here now. I need you to analyze this!” came the screaming voice of Caskett from behind the closed door.
Jamie was only too happy to oblige. Work. The best thing to get my mind off what most definitely did not happen in there. She yanked the door open and took one last look at the creature as it turned in the water.
* * *
Chapter Two
Seth felt good. He hadn’t felt this good in years. He and his brother had ridden out the storm aboard the yacht. They had talked almost like old times. While Seth still hadn’t told him why he’d called, they had devised a plan to get the shells that were crucial to their world out of human hands.
Tonight the two of them would steal the shells from the institute where they suspected Caskett was holding them. After that, Seth vowed to tell his brother the truth.
Scooping up the driftwood that had been thrown onto his beach from last night’s storm, he also managed to gather up all of the newspapers and magazines littering his yard. He stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes scanned the science magazine that had a small headline about ancient shells found off the coast of Nova Scotia having been sent to the London Museum of Antiquity for classification.
Groaning, he stomped inside. Gone was his good mood. He flexed the muscles in his arms involuntarily as he tried to control his raging emotions. Time was catching up with him.
Trying to smooth out the magazine he wanted to tear to shreds, he scanned the brief article once more. A large picture of a beaming Caskett took up most of the page.
The inscription under the photo caption made his stomach churn. It read, “I believe the etchings on these turtle shells are an ancient language belonging to an ancient race that lived in the sea”. With the photo caption attributed to Caskett, Seth said a silent prayer to the gods that people would simply view the scientist as out to lunch.
Seth knew he needed a plan of action. He had to get those shells out of human hands before the truth was exposed.
As much as he loved the rustic rural life, his spacious office was a beehive of electronic gadgets. He viewed it as command central. He pressed a red button and within minutes was connected with all of his family members who lived on land.
“We have a problem. The ancient sea turtle shells have been found. While we speak, they are being investigated. We need to get them back immediately. I’m going to fly out to London tomorrow. Melina, meet me at the airport. I want everyone to rendezvous at Melina’s in two nights. We will do whatever it takes to get them back. Is that understood?” he asked, knowing full well there would be no objections. There never were.
His family simply viewed his word as law. Deep down, he hated that. Disconnecting, he turned his attention to packing. Seth wasn’t surprised when the phone rang. He’d been expecting it.
“Did you see the article?” Darius asked.
“Yeah, I did. How did you?” asked Seth, knowing full well his brother was en route to the Grand Banks to rendezvous with a group of Florida businessmen interested in purchasing more whales. Darius told him last night
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