The water is dark and cold as JJ Maybank and she dive deeper, their flashlights cutting through the murky depths, revealing the sunken wreckage of Blackbeard’s ship. The thrill of the treasure hunt pulses between them, a shared excitement that outweighs the risks, even as they check their oxygen tanks one last time before venturing into the ship’s hold.

JJ glances over at her, and in the shadowy blue of the ocean, she gives him a thumbs-up. He nods back, trying to ignore the pressure building in his chest, the nagging reminder that they’re pushing their limits. But she’s the best partner he could have for something like this—fearless, sharp-eyed, and just as determined as any Pogue he’s ever known. She may be a Kook, but when they’re down here, they’re on equal ground.

Minutes turn into what feels like hours as they sift through the sand and debris, uncovering fragments of gold coins, broken pieces of ornate wood, and the glimmering outline of a chest half-buried in the silt.

They surface, gasping for breath as they haul themselves into the boat, where Pope and John B are waiting with wide eyes. They help them out of their gear, but JJ’s legs buckle beneath him as soon as he’s free from the weight. He clutches his chest, the world spinning as the cold air hits his wet skin. Every breath feels like knives scraping against his lungs, and he shivers uncontrollably, trying to keep himself upright.

“JJ, what’s wrong?” she asks, panic in her voice as she kneels beside him, gripping his shoulders to keep him steady. He looks up at her, his face pale and drawn, and he tries to smile but it’s more of a grimace.

“Think I...might’ve stayed down too long,” he manages, his voice strained and raw. He winces as pain ripples through his body.

“John B, hospital, now.” Pope shouts.

She brushes his hair back, her voice barely above a whisper as she speaks to him. “Hang in there, JJ.”

He nods, though his vision blurs, and he can barely make out her face now. But he clings to her voice, the warmth of her touch.