Brittney Peek
The emergency lights flickered and alarms blared as the submarine continued to slowly cook them alive. Ryan Jackson wiped the sweat beading on his forehead. He focused on his breathing, making every inhale count. Eight hundred feet below the surface, there was nowhere to escape, and their oxygen supply was at twenty percent and dropping.
He steadied himself against the steel walls of the sub, pushing past the throbbing pain in his head as he passed multiple unconscious submariners. He had to get to the engine room. She was their only hope now.
“What’s the status, Petty Officer Tudor?” Ryan asked.
Iris wiped grease off her face, put her hands on her hips, and faced him. “Not good, sir. The power surge knocked the reactor’s stability. Without that steam, we don’t have any power to move the sub, let alone breathe.”
“How can I help?”
She glanced back at the flickering control panels and the other two engineers waiting for their orders. “You two, keep trying to restart the generators. If we can get them running, we’ll be able to make it the rest of the way.” She turned back to Ryan and shook her head. “I can only think of one last thing to try. There’s an emergency bypass deep in the heart of the sub. It’s a long shot, but if I can manually re-route the reactor’s power, we might be able to stabilize the air supply.”
Ryan nodded. “Let’s do it.”
Iris grabbed a bag of tools from the bench. “Follow me.”
They moved down a series of ladders and into two tight corridors. Their footsteps echoed off the claustrophobic-inducing walls as they went into a part of the sub where Ryan had never ventured. The air was heavy and the scent of sweat and burning oil made every breath like sucking in smoke. Ryan’s heart beat fast in his ears as they reached a small compartment.
“Help me get this panel off,” Iris said.
Ryan pulled at the panel’s brackets as Iris used her screwdriver to pry it partly open. The bent metal panel clinked to the ground, and Iris dug in her toolkit. She worked quickly, her hands moving with practiced precision. Ryan stood holding a flashlight that seemed slick in his sweaty hands. His growing sense of nausea intensified with every passing second. His chest tightened as each breath became a battle.
“Hold it steady, Ryan. I can’t save us if I can’t see the controls.” She glanced at him and pulled another light from her kit, holding it in her mouth. “Stay with me, Ryan. I’m almost there.” Her voice was as labored as he felt.
Ryan’s mind wandered as he slid down the wall and let his body lean against the cool metal, no longer stable on his feet. He thought of her—Iris—how they’d always been partners. Enlisted together, deployed together, and stationed on the same submarine. She’d saved his life more times than he could count. They’d been through worse, but this felt different. The submarine’s groan had a finality about it. Iris always had a great poker face, but the faces of the other engineers and the way the alarms screamed seemed to seal their inevitable fate.
“I promise you, if we get out of this, I’m going to marry you.” Ryan hardly registered that his words were audible until he saw her glance over her shoulder.
She froze, her fingers still on the bypass switch, her eyes wide with disbelief. The sudden tension between them was almost more suffocating than the heat.
“Ryan.” Her words were soft. “You can’t be serious. You’re not in the right headspace.”
His raspy breath muffled the chuckle that slipped through his lips. “When have I ever not been serious about you?”
She shook her head, turning back to the wires. “I can’t think about us right now.”
“Why not? If today is our last day, I want you to know how much I love you.”
“Today will not be our last day, Ryan Jackson. But I need to focus.”
Ryan lifted his head, his gaze fixed on her back. “I know. But if we get out of this …. I want you to know. Our rendezvous relationship means more to me than anything else, and if I could, I would open up that hatch to get you to safety but—”
A sudden screech from the sub’s power grid made them both flinch. The lights flickered again, threatening an utter darkness. A fresh wave of heat swept through the compartment.
“We’re running out of time,” Iris stated.
Her fingers flew across the controls, flipping breakers until her hands rested on the red lever. Her gaze met his as his vision blurred. “This is it. Either this works right now or—”
The submarine let out another groan as the floor beneath them rattled. The temperature soared. Ryan’s skin flushed with heat. His mind screamed for air and a solution.
“Done,” Iris shouted, raising her arms and stepping away from the panel. The emergency lights blinked once, then held steady. What felt like a rush of wind swept through their tight quarters. Ryan’s chest expanded with a deep, grateful breath as the alarms quieted.
“You did it,” he whispered.
She exhaled and dropped to her knees, her hands on his sweaty arms. “Don’t thank me yet. This is temporary at best. We need to get to international waters and surface. It’s on you now, Captain.”
Ryan stood, his legs shaky but his mind clearer. “We’ll make it.”
She rose to her feet and cupped his face in her hands. “I’m going to hold you to that promise, Ryan Jackson. After all, I have a wedding to plan.” Her lips connected with his and the moment became frozen in time.
Racing out of the control rooms and up to the main deck of the submarine, he laughed. “Too soon, Tudor. Too soon.”
In the time since, she has written everything from online furniture descriptions to op-eds on the importance of current events. Now, she writes stories with themes of faith and hope that highlight her Christian faith. Most recently, her short story “The Suitor in Apartment 2B” was published in Spark Flash Fiction Magazine. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers, was a 2021 First Impressions finalist, and a 2024 Crown Awards finalist. When she’s not writing, you can find her attending concerts, shooting scenic photos, or planning her next adventure. She is represented by Tamela Hancock Murray of the Steve Laube Agency.
You can find her online on Facebook, Twitter (X), Instagram or her website.
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