Page 345 of Hidden Depths

Ben grinned.

I almost laughed.

Almost.

The boat slowed near a wall of black volcanic rock.

At first, I saw no opening.

Then the waves pulled back.

A narrow gap appeared between two jagged outcroppings.

The captain guided us through.

Rock scraped lightly against one side of the hull.

Then the tunnel swallowed us.

The air changed.

Cool.

Damp.

Heavy with salt and something metallic.

Our flashlights cut across wet stone.

Old cables ran along one wall.

Grandpa had known about this place.

Dad had come here days before he died.

And somewhere above us...

Mom was waiting.

We reached a rusted metal ladder.

Ward climbed first.

Nathan followed.

Ben motioned for me to go next.

The ladder seemed to rise forever.

My palms slipped against the wet rungs.

At the top, Ward opened a corroded service hatch.

We entered the basement of Keawe Cannery.

The building smelled of rust and old seawater.

Broken machinery filled the darkness.