New Zealandia

By Rose Randolph

Eliana Gaite is the top scuba diver in the world. She has led expeditions into the depths of the sea, joined different sea life for their migration, and won contests across the globe. One day, Eliana explores an old shipwreck with her friends when something happens that will take Eliana on a journey of perseverance, relationships, fear, and a reunion with people she never thought she’d see again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rose Randolph
• Release date: Jan 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005769727

Rose Randolph

I am a young author, who values reviews and constructive criticism, with story ideas overflowing!Stay turned to read more!

Book preview

Prologue

BAM! A button was slammed, and at that exact moment, poison started to flow into a tank, contaminating the oxygen inside. At that very moment, a scuba diver began to die. 

Drowning. Drowning. I can’t breathe. Panic sets in. Thrashing. Thrashing. Trying to breathe. Trying to stay calm. Jolting. Jolting. My lungs begin to burst. Screaming. Screaming. My body has given up. Breathing. Breathing. Forcing the water in and out of my lungs. Dying. Dying. Watching the blurred sun above the surface of the water. Hoping. Hoping. As a hand clamps onto my wrist. Blind. Blind. Dead.

Chapter 1

Before it even occurred to me that I had survived, I heard the commotion of different voices and felt a hard surface beneath me. It was cold to the touch and helped soothe my pounding head. I was aware of coughing up water, but I couldn’t open my eyes. I started to panic again, but I couldn’t move. I was aware of everything around me, yet I could not respond. I could hear someone yelling at my face, Ellie! Talk to me! Say something! The voice sounded so desperate and so familiar, but I couldn’t say a thing.

We were moving, bouncing up and down; I felt sand lick my face and attempt to bore into my eyes, it hurt, and I wanted to brush it off, but I was still glued to a slightly different surface. Rougher, I could sense people surrounding me and what felt like a potato sack under my head.

Bumping, engine noise, stopping, unloading, voices, calling, trundling, still.

It was bright, too bright. Light shone through my closed eyelids, causing me to try and lift my hands to block it out. Yet, an unseen force kept me paralysed. The surface beneath me was more comfortable than before, and there was something cool on top of me. It felt a bit like a thin sheet. I felt something over my nose and mouth and began to panic. What if it’s stopping me from breathing?! I’m going to die! I tried to scream and resist, but something still paralysed me.

I can’t move, I can’t see, my body doesn’t belong to me. I’m trapped in my own skin, and I’m hoping the kind voices aren’t wolves in sheepskin.

Days passed, and I couldn’t even count them; my only reference was the silence that came over wherever I was and the different levels of light that fought to pass through my eyelids. Sometimes I was visited by familiar voices; other times, someone would speak soothingly to me and then jab a needle in my arm.

Eventually, I opened my eyes. I started to match voices to faces but still couldn’t respond. I couldn’t move, and I had many questions. I worked out that I was in a hospital. The reason was that while scuba diving with my friends, someone had poisoned the oxygen in my tank. I had then spat out the tube, which was supposed to be giving me oxygen, then inhaled water, causing me to blackout. My friend Isla had pulled me from the water, and my boyfriend Benjamin had pushed the water out of my lungs.

Everyone told me I was lucky to be alive; lucky was not the word I would use.

The day was Saturday. Supposed to be a day with no worries, the beginning of the weekend, not that it mattered for me. Suddenly, I saw a face I couldn’t forget even if I were dead. My scuba-diving instructor, Christina Bailey, but I called her Chris. C-C-Chris, I breathed, saying my first word since the accident. So you can talk! Seeing me hooked up to different machines didn’t seem to faze her; yet again, nothing fazed Christina Bailey. 

You know, she began, They said you couldn’t talk, her head jolted to the right, the movement beyond her control. O-only for you, my voice was croaky, and my words came out slowly and in parts. Oh, stop being a baby, I almost laughed, If I had wanted sympathy, I-I would’ve a-asked for it. I was stuttering; why was I stuttering? 

She laughed; her laugh was iconic, a high-pitched laugh that made your ears bleed, a laugh that you can’t fake. I’ll stop going soft on you then, Her voice was the complete opposite of her laughter, a deep, no-nonsense tone that made you want to cower in fear rather than plug your ears. I had learned to love her strict side; she made me feel safe, as there was nothing fake about her. Chris didn’t lie; she didn’t cheat; she was pure and incredibly hard-case.

In all seriousness, I cannot have an incapacitated scuba diver on my hands. You’re the top scuba diver in the world right now, and don’t you dare lose that position. I need you up and moving, back in the water by the end of next week. I searched her face and saw that she wasn’t kidding, C-Chris, I can’t do that; I-I’m scared. I hadn’t even begun to dwell on my dance with death, but my nightmares certainly didn’t let me forget it. I had felt my fear build up those past few days, and now even drinking water was a chore; I was too scared of choking on it. Well, that won’t do; being scared of the water is like being scared of a toe; it can’t hurt you,

The n-nail could, I countered cheekily, but I had stuttered again. Chris seemed to consider something, Can you sit up? I shook my head, 

I can only m-move my head. Then, she disappeared with no further word, Chris? I called after her. Suddenly, I realised what she was doing, Chris knew me inside and out, and she knew that I would want to follow her, to find out what she was doing. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it was going to get me out of bed.

At first, I focused on my arms, someone had massaged them just this morning, and I started to get some feeling back into them. I tried to move my fingers, and bit by bit, they began to come to life, flexing and moving, cracking as I eased the stiffness out of them. I made