Read Online Alive at 5 (Entangled Ignite) by Linda Bond - Free Book Online

George’s mask, making the kid’s eyes pop wide open like some horror movie victim. George’s hand rose to shield his face. He twisted away from the light. His sudden, erratic movements kicked up a cloud of silt from the cave floor, encircling them in a thick, sandy cloak.
    Shit! Had his light frightened George? Or was the photographer reacting to something else? The kid was big and tall, flailing around in the tight tunnel. Zack reached for the side of the cave, bracing himself for the impact of the resulting sandstorm. His fingers found a crevice in which he could anchor another guideline.
    Just in time.
    A wave of brown obscured his vision to zero despite the headlight. He took slow, steady breaths, fighting not to feel claustrophobic in his sudden blindness. He swept his flashlight beam around.
    A flash of black swirled past. George’s wet suit? With one hand tight on the reel that held his guideline, he quickly attached the flashlight to his dive belt and reached out with his free hand. He swiped at the cloud of sand, hoping to find an arm or a leg. His fingers grazed George’s wrist. Zack latched on. His heart rapped against his chest so fiercely he had trouble breathing.
    George struggled with something Zack couldn’t see. The cameraman wrenched to one side, then the other, pulling against his hold.
    Zack held tight, his body absorbing the jerky motions. Apprehension tightened his throat. Was he in trouble? Even in a narrow tunnel, a diver could drift and get lost in a matter of minutes. Or lose his regulator and his air.
    His fingers slipped off the slick neoprene of George’s dive suit. Shit! His pulse lurched as he lost contact. He sliced his hand around in the liquid murkiness, trying to find him again.
    But it was no use. He sensed the water go still and empty around him.
    The kid had disappeared.

Chapter Six
    Sam sat on the edge of her hotel room bed. Her fingers drummed against the beige and brown bedspread, her right foot tapped the floor as if she was keeping time to some high-intensity rock song.
    But silence filled the room.
    Maybe she should have stayed at the Orange Grove Sink and waited for Zack and George to surface, but George had told her they’d be down for a while and frankly, she’d been itching to do a little investigating and some online research on Jackson Hunter and Scott Fitzpatrick. She wasn’t able to get a wireless connection in the woods near the sink, but she’d connected at a diner near the Holiday Inn in Live Oak. She’d been reading up on Zack’s dead uncle and the first man who died so she could grill Stuart Johnson about what else local law enforcement knew, when her waitress, a cute redhead named Rita, had asked her about the headlines she was reading online.
    It turned out that Rita had hooked up with a former vacationer last year. After much subtle manipulation on Sam’s part, Rita finally spilled some interesting information about her “boyfriend” and how he’d been diving one day when another vacationer from New York had died in the caves. Bingo! The waitress had been busy juggling about seven tables but had promised to swing by the motel after she got off work and bring Sam a dive DVD that she hoped would be their first real clue. She had been so excited to share this info with Zack, she’d barely been able to eat.
    Now, three hours later, the detective hadn’t called her back, the waitress still hadn’t gotten in touch with her, and neither George nor Zack were answering their cell phones.
    A knock came at the door. She sprang off the bed and yanked the door open.
    “George!”
    He leaned up against the doorframe, his head down and his shoulders slumped.
    Slightly annoyed, the words blew out of her. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you.”
    When he slowly brought his head up, Sam took a step back, stunned by the haunted look in his eyes and the tangled mess of his red hair. His skin, normally white with freckles and a hint of sunburn,