Horizon Divided

By Maureen A. Miller

In this exciting sequel to BENEATH, Stella and Colin search futilely for the rogue Atlantic current that dragged them to the shadowy Underworld just a few months ago. With an ill-defined area to explore, their futile attempts cost too much money and their resources are running out.
When it appears that all hope is lost, a miracle occurs in the form of a retired Hollywood producer-turned-explorer who is willing to use his ship and equipment to support their quest. Although no one believes their tale, he is the most accepting person they have met. Whether his intentions are honorable or not remain to be seen.
With a crew full of skeptics, Stella and Colin locate the downwelling current, and once again find themselves dragged into the subterranean network of caves deep in the Atlantic Ocean canyon.
Time is running out for the Underworld, though. Will anyone be left to rise from beneath?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maureen A. Miller
• Release date: Mar 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463962428

Maureen A. Miller

USA TODAY bestselling author, Maureen A. Miller worked in the software industry for fifteen years. She crawled around plant floors in a hard hat and safety glasses hooking up computers to behemoth manufacturing machines. The job required extensive travel. The best form of escapism during those lengthy airport layovers became writing.Maureen's first novel, WIDOW'S TALE, earned her a Golden Heart nomination in Romantic Suspense. After that she became hooked to the genre. In fact, she was so hooked she is the founder of the JUST ROMANTIC SUSPENSE website.Recently, Maureen branched out into the Young Adult Science Fiction market with the popular BEYOND Series. To her it was still Romantic Suspense...just on another planet!

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Take your time. The pretty blonde host of Jersey Coast Now assured in a polished voice.

Stella Gullaksen folded her hands on her lap. Her eyes followed a blue cable running along the floor before it snaked up to a glaring lamp pointed at her face. She squinted to see beyond it, but there was no audience out there. This was a pre-recorded interview to be aired later in the evening.

I— Stella hesitated, —I was fishing with my best friend and her family when a storm struck. It capsized the boat, she recited mechanically.

There was an imperceptible tightening of the blonde’s lips, but her practiced smile remained. She made a theatrical motion of consulting her notes, but Stella could tell that her eyes barely skimmed them.

I see here that you claimed to have been drawn into a cave at the bottom of the ocean and that there were survivors from other shipwrecks down there— the newscaster paused for a dramatic flair, "—alive."

Stella winced.

When she and Colin were rescued, thirst and desperation had them spewing out every detail of their experience to the startled fishermen. Reading the disbelief in their eyes, she knew they were in for a battle. By the time the Coast Guard arrived, Stella and Colin scaled back on the specifics, simply expressing the urgency of rescuing his family. The Coast Guard complied, but after seven futile days, they called off the search.

Ironically, the greatest aid came from the Atlantic Harbor Institute. With their logo displayed on the side of the yellow submersible for all to see, they felt compelled to contact—or rather, interrogate Stella and Colin. Eager to learn more about the fate of their own pilot who went missing two years ago, AHI exhausted a month-long search of the coordinates relayed by the fishermen and the reported course of the STARKISSED.

But now, all search and rescue resources had been exhausted. All that remained was the perverse curiosity of the press. It wasn’t really curiosity. It was more like public humiliation. Yet, Stella submitted to it. She submitted to the scrutiny, hoping that someone watching might seriously be willing to help.

Miss Gullaksen, the host paused, please tell us what happened.

CHAPTER 1

Colin stood in a puddle of water with his dive mask yanked atop his head. Wet, dark hair spiked around the mask, framing his equally dark frown.

Let’s keep along this route for another few miles, and I’ll dive in again.

Before Stella could point out that he was exhausted, the captain stepped forward, holding his wrist up and pointing at his watch.

We’re going back. The bearded man in jeans and a navy windbreaker yelled. Unless you pay for another twelve hours.

Colin looked ready to retort, but Stella placed her hand on his arm. Col, she said softly, for only him to hear. You’re killing yourself out here.

Broad shoulders in a black wetsuit dropped in fatigue. If I don’t do it, no one is going to help us, Stel.

We’ll come back, she assured futilely.

The unspoken truth was that they were running out of money. They were funding these chartered dives on what little finances they could pool. All official recovery efforts had ended with the same consensus. The STARKISSED sank, and Colin Wexler and Stella Gullaksen, the sole survivors, suffered significant trauma during the event. According to the official report, their survival was aided by a stroke of good fortune when they discovered that the AHI submersible still afloat in the ocean.

All protests on their part were met with constructive suggestions like see a counselor, move on with your life. Except, they couldn’t move on. Especially Colin. His parents still had a mortgage on their house, which was automatically drafted from his parent’s bank account. But that wouldn’t last forever. Many other bills were rolling in, and the banks were not allowing Colin access to his parent’s finances without a death certificate. The death certificate was an obstacle because there was no wreckage or definitive proof of their demise, nor was Colin eager to declare that.

Basically, Col was caught up in red tape, and he was having to work at a local car rental dealership in order to finance his family home.

Colin glared at the stocky captain. Fine. Can we book you again for next weekend?

The bearded man dropped his furry hands on his hips. His jacket billowed in the wind, inflating him like a Macy’s Day Parade balloon.

The season is winding down, he warned gruffly. I’d like to book some solid-paying clients.

Have I missed a payment? Colin countered, yanking a fin off his foot.

No, the captain hedged. He searched the sea and brusquely added, Fine. Whatever. Next Saturday at 8:00 AM. Pay before we depart.

With a look of contempt, he grabbed one of the oxygen tanks, lugged it back to its storage compartment, and then climbed up the short ladder to the cockpit. In seconds, they felt the boat turn, saltwater droplets splashing against their faces in the wind.

Colin dropped onto a vinyl bench seat and yanked his other fin off. Hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, he barely noticed Stella sink down beside him.

Colin—

Don’t, he cautioned hoarsely. I promised them. I promised them that I would find them. I would come back for them.

You’re trying, Col. Your dad warned us this would be impossible, but you haven’t stopped trying.

Colin looked up at her, his dark green eyes like the churning sea. "We’re trying. He reached for her hand. You have been out here every step of the way, and I couldn’t do it without you."

The earnest declaration kindled her emotions. She threaded her fingers through his.

It’s my best friend down there. It’s the sister and father of the man I love down there. I will be with you every step of the way.

They had been home for nearly three months. Stella celebrated her nineteenth birthday with a simple cake with her mother and Colin. She was still young, but her feelings for Colin Wexler surpassed any age. When he looked at her, the same sentiments were reflected there.

It’s you and me, Col.

Always, he whispered and leaned in to kiss her with temptingly salty lips.

Jostled by the ocean, his forehead knocked into hers. They laughed, trying to pretend that life was normal—as if they were normal.

Instead, normal now meant spending every free moment out at sea. Stella rose and stepped over to the balustrade, wrapping her fingers around the cold, wet aluminum. As soon as she felt Colin by her side, she whispered into the wind.

They’re down there. I know they’re still alive.

Colin stared hard into the water.

"We have to find them," he vowed desolately.

We will, she assured, searching the shifting blue shadows, wondering which one held the passageway to oblivion.

That is a mountain of mashed potatoes. Caroline Gullaksen said, pointing to the heaping bowl in the center of the dining room table. Idaho called and said they want their crops back.

Stella shook her head and managed a slight smile. Her mother’s sense of humor was tacky but with good intentions.

Caroline glanced back and forth between Stella and Colin and sighed.

Come on, guys. We can figure this out. I’ve got a little money saved—

No. Colin set down his fork.

Seeing both women staring at him, he cleared his throat and tried to relax.

Mrs. Gullaksen, I appreciate you having me over for dinner. You keep me healthy. If I’m cooking at home, it’s a constant diet of mac and cheese and frozen pizza. He paused. But I do not want to cost you money. It’s not right. I’m sure this is not the future you envisioned for your daughter—a guy who mooches off you every other night.

Caroline sat down, leveling her gaze on Colin. Her auburn hair was pulled back by a hair clip making the tiny wrinkles at the corners of her golden eyes more pronounced. Her slim shoulders rolled back on a deep breath.

"Thanks to you, I have a daughter. Her voice was raw. There is no one I would ever trust Stella’s safety with as much as you."

Colin glanced away. I’m sorry. I guess I’m just tired.

Stella knew it was so much more than that. In addition to the day job, Colin had worked it out so that he could pursue an online degree for now, a task that kept him up most nights.

I better go, he excused quietly. I have an exam on Monday.

Colin, Caroline rose to intercept him. Eat those potatoes.

Stella watched the two people she loved in a silent stand-off. Colin finally surrendered with a grin. He was about to sit back down, but instead, he rounded the table and gave her mother a quick hug.

Thank you, he said, emotion thickening his voice.

Stella could see moisture pool in her mother’s eyes, but Caroline mustered up a confident smile. She squeezed his arms and then sat back down, shoving the volcano of spuds at him.

So, when is the next dive?

Sun poked through the kitchen window, shooting a laser across the tiled floor. It lanced Stella’s purple socks. She glanced at the clock.

6:50 AM.

Let me make some pancakes. Caroline swept into the room with her flannel shirt and pajama pants.

Thanks, Mom, but I have to get going. Colin will be here in a few minutes.

Caroline nibbled on her thumbnail. How long will you be out there? She looked up at the window as if she could see the ocean, which was nearly a mile away.

It’ll be overnight again.

Caroline planted her palms on the kitchen counter and stared out the window.

Mom, you know I have to do this.

Her mother turned around. Her lips trembled slightly, but she pressed them tight to conceal it.

I know. It doesn’t make it any easier on me.

Stella glanced at the clock again.

6:55 AM.

She had time for one important question.

Mom, she hesitated. Do you believe us?

One thing about Caroline Gullaksen. She could never win a hand in poker. There was no emotion she could hide—no thought she could conceal. Stella watched the reel play out on the heart-shaped screen. Doubt. Conviction. Love. Uncertainty. Fear.

Stella had her answer.

Stel, Caroline came forward and dropped onto the chair, reaching for Stella’s hand over the table. Your tale is incredible. I understand the public’s qualms. I’m not going to deny that I had a tough time with it at first. I thought that you were in shock and that, eventually, your memory would return.

She clutched Stella’s hand.  Once upon a time, there had been a gold band on her mother’s ring finger. It was long gone. Another memory that wouldn’t fade.

But your story never wavered, she went on ruefully. "Neither did Colin’s. So, I’ve started to believe. Even if I don’t always believe that the Wexlers are still alive, I believe in you. I will always believe in you."

That was all Stella could ask for. It brought some comfort.

I’ll call or text as much as I can.

Caroline nodded, releasing Stella’s hand as she began pacing in the tiny kitchen.

Dress in layers. It’s going to be so cold on that water. And sunscreen. Don’t forget the sunscreen.

Mom. Stella rose and stood before her. I’ll be all right.

Caroline’s head jerked up. There was a flash of anxiety in her eyes before she reached out and hauled Stella into a tight embrace. How she had ached for this hug during her bout in the Underworld.

I love you, Mom, Stella whispered.

Did you sleep?

Not much. Colin gave her a side glance. I missed you.

The corners of Stella’s lips tickled. She had feared that once they reached the surface, Colin’s infatuation with her would wane. It was not the case, however. Even now, his arm slipped around her to ward off the early morning chill.

When they first returned from their nightmare, Colin had stayed at her house. The thought of him going to an empty home with the press on his front doorstep was too traumatic. Her mother had given him the guest room, but Stella and Colin had both fallen asleep on the couch, watching the news. Night after night, they slept on that couch, needing to be close to each other.

Once Col’s online classes began, he returned to his house. She was restless without him. Without him, the Underworld would rise up at night and claw into her dreams with scaly fingers and flashing eyes.

Colin reached for her backpack and slung it over one shoulder.

You don’t have to—

I know. I know, she said, chuckling, I don’t have to go.

Looking at the man beside her, she thought he had aged so much. Both of them had. He was twenty-one now. The maturity suited him. His tall frame had a sturdiness to it. His grey sweat jacket flapped open in the wind, revealing a white t-shirt. A warm tan emerged over the neckline from last weekend’s diving venture.

What the hell? He held his hand out, drawing her to a halt.

What?

They had just parked Colin’s Jeep and were crossing the parking lot toward the marina, where chartered boats bobbed in their slips. Drawing his phone out of his back pocket, he frowned at it. After another prolonged scan of the active dock, he cursed.

Do you see it?

Stella followed his gaze, trying to pinpoint the source of his irritation, and then it occurred to her. It was what he was not looking at. The boat they had chartered with the burly red-headed captain was not in its designated slip. She glanced down at her watch.

We’re early.

Exactly, he muttered, hoisting the phone to his ear. After a moment, he yanked it back down.

Answering machine.

Stella searched the other slips for the 52’ deep-sea fishing vessel, SHORE THING, but it was missing.

Maybe he went somewhere to fuel it, she offered.

Colin glanced at the empty fuel station twenty feet away. I think not.

Come on, he urged. Let’s sit down over there just in case we are too early. He nodded towards a nearby bench. I’ll keep trying him on the phone, and we’ll be able to see if he sails back in.

Stella stepped up on the curb and crossed over sand and dry grass. Dropping down onto the bench, she felt the cold cement sting her rear through her jeans. Nearby, a swarm of seagulls squawked over a garbage can. Colin tried the phone again, cursing each time he reached a dead end.

At this hour, fishermen and tourists were clambering aboard the bobbing vessels, preparing for a day out at sea. The clammy scent of saltwater filled her nose, but it was nothing like the odor of the Underworld. This scent was infused with life. The smell of a nearby coffee truck. A box of donuts. Fumes from the motors. A waft of coconut sunscreen. All fragrances of life.

Colin’s phone buzzed, and her eyes swung toward it. She couldn’t read the text message but saw his lips clamp tight and his jaw flex. He collapsed against the backrest and left the phone idly on his knee.

"Well, he had someone come in last minute that made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. He apologizes, but it’s just business."

Bad business. Stella felt her neck grow warm with anger. He can’t do that.

He’s the owner. He can do whatever he wants. He knows he’ll never see us again after this.

Stella jumped to her feet. There must be another boat here. She shielded her eyes from the sun, watching vessels begin pulling out to sea, leaving the bustling marina idle.

No, Stel. Colin sounded resigned. I don’t know what to do. I’ve got to get another job. There’s just not enough money to afford these weekly charters.

I can ask Mom for a raise.

Stella was working as a publicist for her mother’s ceramic business. She used her writing skills for clever advertisements and local business postings while keeping up the social media hype. It worked into her school schedule now that she could attend a satellite campus that was only a half-hour away.

You’ve already spent too much money on this.

Stop it, Col, she snapped. This is not your burden alone.

Colin knotted his fingers together between his knees. Every inch of him was wired with tension. At least he didn’t dispute her. It was a futile argument. Instead, he kicked a rock, following its erratic trek across the cracked pavement. Looking up towards the snack shop where the warm scent of sausage wafted towards them, he forced himself upright.

Let’s go look at the board again. Maybe there is something new up there today.

The message board was a cork board lodged beneath the awning of a white wooden building with a pink ice cream cone painted on its side. The board was cluttered with handwritten posts and business cards. They had scoured this source so many times that Stella had practically memorized every announcement.

Standing before it now, nothing new stuck out.

We need to buy a boat. This renting is killing us.

My mom would have to sign for the loan. They’re not going to loan either of us money.

If we could just find a cheap used one.

She watched his dark lashes shift as he scanned the ads.

"I once got