“Bryce?” I called.

No answer.

“Bryce!”

I dove, got a mouthful of foul water, and shot back up again, gagging and spitting. Another deep breath and I went under.

If I couldn’t see above water, I sure as hell wasn’t going to be able to see under it. I swam around, praying my fingers or toes would brush against Bryce.

He’d float, wouldn’t he? No, that was only after you drowned. A live body would sink.

I had to find him. He was already weak. It wouldn’t take long before—

Something tickled the back of my head. I reached up and felt fabric, and let out a whoosh of relief that sent more disgusting water into my mouth. I ignored it and grabbed Bryce around the torso. I hauled him up until we finally broke through.

I could only dimly see him, his skin and light hair glowing pale in the near dark. His head lolled back. Unconscious.

I remembered Paige giving us a first aid class back when the agency opened, and I know she’d covered CPR and I know I’d been there . . . sulking because it would be a long time before I was in the field, meaning I had no use for first aid so I damned well wasn’t going to listen . . .

Shit.

I looked down at the lifeless body of my brother, already going cold. I could do this. I’d seen it on TV often enough.

I pulled him to the wall, where I could brace him up as I treaded water. I cleared my nose and mouth as best I could—my nose was running from the chilly water and I couldn’t smell much, which was probably good because when I lowered my mouth toward Bryce’s, I could smell the water, and it stunk like rotting fish.

My lips touched down on ice-cold skin. Ice-cold and spongy with teeth jutting through and—

I let out a shriek and yanked up. Fingers trembling, I cast a light ball. It took two tries, but finally, a penlight-sized ball of illumination appeared, just enough for me to see that I was holding the bloated and eyeless corpse of a middle-aged man.

I shrieked again.

I dropped the corpse and swung the light ball, searching for Bryce, but the water was so murky, I couldn’t see my own hands a few inches below the surface. I dove.

I swam straight to the bottom and started feeling around. It only took a moment to find another body . . . and a cursory touch to its skin to know I’d located another corpse.

As I pushed away, my foot kicked a third body. I twisted around, reached out, and found an arm—with a warm hand and fingers.

I grabbed it and had started up when I had a mental flash of myself saving Anita, and leaving my brother lying on the bottom, dying. I touched the body’s hair. Fine, short hair. Bryce? God, I hoped so.

I dragged him to the surface. My light ball was still there, waiting, and when I looked down, I saw Bryce’s face. His pale and still face, no pulse of life.

I was bringing my mouth down to his when I heard Paige’s distant voice. “Make sure the airway is clear first.”

I pried open Bryce’s mouth . . . and he convulsed suddenly, and his teeth chomped down on my fingers.

I yanked my hand away and held him steady as he came to, coughing and gasping.

“Where—?” he began. “Who—?”

“It’s me,” I said. “Savannah.”

“Sav . . . What are you doing?”

“Trying to give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation in a waterfilled pit. And sadly, it’s not just a nightmare. You were sick and for whatever reason—probably delirium—I was the one you called.”

He started treading water on his own, nodding as he remembered. Then he stopped and shook his head. “I called you on purpose. I wanted you and the council to see what they were . . .” He trailed off and looked up at the hatch, twenty feet overhead, then around at the black pit, then at me, treading water beside him. “Shit.”

“Kind of.”

“I’m sorry. I never would have gotten you involved if I’d known . . .”

“Well, you didn’t like me that much anyway.”

I said it lightly, joking, but the look on his face made me wish I hadn’t.

“I don’t know you enough to like you or not,” he said finally. “That’s my fault. Doesn’t matter much right now. If I get out of this . . .” He coughed.

“We’ll get out. Just don’t try to bite me again.”

“Bite?”

I lifted my fingers. “That’s what I get for attempting CPR when I don’t have a clue how to do it.”

“I bit you? Did I break the skin?”

“Nah.”

“Good.” He exhaled, eyes closing.

“Unless you’re a werewolf, I’m not worried about a nip. Though I have had a fight-bite before, and they are nasty, especially when you’re swimming around in toxic soup like this. So, next step, get out of the toxic soup.”

“It must be escapable.” He twisted to look around. “Anita climbed down here.”

“Jumped. There’s no ladder.” I shone the light around the sides. “Despite the stench, I don’t think it’s a sewer.” I moved the light ball to one side, where a corpse floated. “There are more. I tried to give CPR to one, thinking it was you.”

“Corpses?” He looked up at the hatch.

“From up there, I’d guess. Failed experiments dumped into a pit filled with floodwater. Anita knew what it was and jumped in to avoid the gas. It must have been shallower than she figured. Probably bumped her head and drowned, and I’m not going to look for her.”

“Savannah?”

It was Adam’s voice, so distant that I almost missed it.

“The cavalry arrives.” I raised my voice. “Hey! About time, guys!”

“Savannah?” Adam called louder, his tone telling me he hadn’t heard my reply.

“Down here!” I yelled. “We’re—”

“Adam!” Jeremy shouted.

The explosion hit like a sonic boom, the sound coming a second later, a deafening roar, as I was falling back into the water. Water sloshed around me. As my arms windmilled, something hit my head, shoving me under. I thought it was Bryce and I reached up to knock him away, but my hands brushed wood, splinters digging into my fingertips.

I fought my way up. Plaster and wood and fist-sized chunks of concrete hailed down, battering me under the water again.

Another explosion boomed.