Zahra assumed it would come off with hardly any effort, yet, here she was, unsheathing her knife to use as a makeshift pry bar. With the same amount of methodical care, she searched for a gap between the lid and the top edge of the crate with the weapon’s blade. Finding one, she slipped it in halfway and then adjusted her grip. With a little more
The act made her wince, but she quickly forgot all about it after spotting the crate’s contents. Her gut had been right. It was loaded with the precious amphorae…but every single one was smashed and unable to be saved. She inspected each one, confirming their condition. Even though they had been packed tight, they had not survived the sinking. The Romans had used a technique not unlike one Zahra had seen inside the box containing her Christmas decorations. Each jar was placed into its own quarters inside the crate. Slats of wood had been used to separate the amphora to keep them from banging into one another during travel. Modern-day wine cases served the same purpose.
Zahra leaned around the ruin and counted the crates, stopping at twelve. She moved on to the next one, but saw that it, and its contents, were already in shambles. Long ago, something heavy had fallen atop the lid and smashed the container into pulp. She was 0–2, but fortunately, she still had another ten crates to go.
The scene outside the sunken cargo ship was serene. The world was cool and quiet, and it made Vincenzo all the more nervous. He was out of contact with Zahra — both verbal communication and hand signals. He was contemplating an attempt to enter the hold through the hole in the hull but thought better of it. The whale-like moan he had just heard emanating from the wreck had deterred him. Drowning was Vincenzo’s worst fear. It had almost happened to him as a child while snorkeling on the northern side of the island. He had gone too deep, but lucky for him, his father had been close by. The event had scarred him.
He glanced down at his dive watch but was struggling to see its face. Their light source had been blotted out by something. So far, the sun had been unperturbed by anything. The weather reports had called for a nearly cloudless sky from sunrise until tomorrow morning.
Just as he craned his head skyward, the shroud moved off. The reignited bloom of light was strong enough to cause him to wince against it. He shut his eyes and turned away. As he did, the veil returned. Then, once more, it was gone. Vincenzo held up his hand and peered past it, seeing what was causing the disturbance.
His eyes went wide.
It was the ocean’s most feared hunter,
And he and Zahra had just had a conversation about how unlikely it was for a human to be attacked. Vincenzo was an intelligent man. He understood that if he remained calm, the apex predator would leave him alone and move on. All it was doing was searching the shallower water for food. Cala Minnola was a frequented swimming hole, and with the recent discovery of the cargo ship, it had seen a significant increase in visitors.
The shark was close enough for Vincenzo to get lost in its vacant stare. To Vincenzo, it was one of the animal’s single most frightening features. Its jaws were at the top of his list, of course, as was the creature’s immense size. This one wasn’t any larger than the average great white, sitting at, what Vincenzo estimated to be, fifteen feet in length. The shark was virtually ten feet longer than Vincenzo was tall.
A dull clunking sound picked up from within the wreck. This was the worst possible time for Zahra to make any type of noise. But what could Vincenzo do? It’s not like he could warn her.
