"I've got some debris over here," I said.
"You sound like a real fireman," Wren said.
"Coffin?" Detective Tammy asked from the stairs. She slid into the water last.
"No, just a can of some kind."
The coffin had almost floated to me. No effort. I put a hand out to touch it, keeping it floating gently in the small waves. "When Wren and Tucker get up to the coffin, I'm going to back off. Cover me while I pull out the shotgun."
"You got it," Tammy said. She had her flashlight and gun in two hands, one above the other, so the light moved with the barrel of her gun. She was sweeping the water for movement. Just seeing her do that made the tension in my shoulders ease a bit.
"Don't open the coffin until I'm ready," I said. I had a moment to realize that I wasn't worried about my breathing. The suffocating closeness had receded under the pure adrenaline rush of being chest-deep in water with vampires all around. I could be phobic later, after we survived.
Wren and Tucker took either end of the coffin. Even they were having trouble moving in the water in full suits. "I'm going for the shotgun now, Reynolds."
"You're covered," she said.
I backed off and swung the bag around. I had a moment to decide whether to try to put the Browning back in a pants pocket or in the bag where the shotgun was now. I chose the bag. I kept the bag in front though, where I could put a hand in if I needed the gun. I swung the shotgun around, settling the butt of it against my shoulder. I braced myself as much as I could in the water and said, "Open it."
Tucker steadied it, and Wren swung the lid back. He crossed my line of fire while he did it. "You've crossed my line of sight, Wren."
"What?"
"Move to your right," I said.
He did it without any more questions but that one delay could have been enough to get him hurt or dead. The vampire lay on her back, long hair spread around her pale face, one hand clasped on her chest like a sleeping child.
"Okay to move her?" Wren asked.
"Stay out of my line of fire and you can do anything you want," I said.
"Sorry," he said. Even over the mikes he sounded embarrassed.
I didn't have time to soothe his ego. I was too busy watching for vamps. I kept my attention mainly on the one in the open coffin, but I had no peripheral vision in the suit. My hearing was cut in half or more. I felt totally unprepared.
"Why aren't our crosses glowing?" Reynolds asked from just behind me.
"They don't glow around dead bodies," I said.
Wren and Tucker were having trouble getting the body into the bag. Wren finally threw the body across one shoulder and Tucker started squirming the legs into the bag. The vampire lay utterly limp across Wren's back. Her long hair trailed into the water, turning black as it absorbed the water. When they slid her the last bit into the bag, I got a glimpse of her death-pale face, strands of wet hair clinging to it, like a drowning victim.
Tucker zipped the bag and said, "There's water in the bag. I don't know how to avoid it."
Wren got the body as balanced as he could and started for the stairs. "This is going to take a long time with just two of us carrying," he said.
Fulton's voice came over the radios. "We've got two more suits, Ms. Blake. Is it safe to send more men down?"
"Speaking as one of the sacrificial lambs," I said, "yeah. Why should we have all the fun?"
Wren got to the stairs and started climbing up, one hand on the banister. He tried to do the little stomping routine like we did on the way down and nearly fell back into the water. "I'm just going up the stairs. If they collapse, try not to leave me buried until my air runs out."
"Do our best," I said.
"Thanks," he said, sarcasm traveling just fine over the mikes.
Tucker had isolated one of the other coffins. Reynolds slogged over to steady it while Tucker got the lid. She didn't have enough height to swing it back nicely like Wren had. She just shoved. The lid fell back smacking the other coffin with a loud, echoing thunk. The sound made the tips of my fingers tingle.
"Shit," Reynolds breathed.