Forty-Six
Wednesday, December 22
Bailey’s Key
Thomas awoke to his phone ringing. He’d been in a dream, diving with Eva, descending and ascending over and over again, like Sisyphus rolling the boulder up the mountain. And with each descent he had the same thought: I hope we can stay down this time.
He looked around; he was in his old bunk back aboard the Aggressor. Dolphins whistled in the background. That’s right, he was at Bailey’s Key.
He answered the phone. “Hello.”
It was Eva. “It’s time to go,” she said. “Owens is here with the Denise 2.”
Eva sounded perfectly calm and normal, which worried Thomas given what she’d been through recently. He knew all too well that the symptoms of PTSD could be masked until later, and could then surface with a vengeance.
“I’m up,” he said. “Just
