Nick Thacker is the USA Today Bestselling Author of action-adventure thrillers and mysteries, including the Harvey Bennett Thrillers series. Often mentioned as a cross between Clive Cussler and James Rollins, his stories are written in a fast-paced, punchy style.

He lives on a volcano in Hawaii with his wife, two kids, and two dogs.

The Depths by Nick Thacker

In a research station five miles underwater, secrets await.

When Jen's son is kidnapped and her boss murdered, she is determined to find out why.

The answer may lie in a research station, abandoned for over thirty years and buried deep in the Atlantic. As Jen and her team descend to the station, they soon uncover evidence of a mysterious project that could have far-reaching consequences for the rest of the world.

But as they dig deeper, they realize they are not alone in the depths.

 
 

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Excerpt

"Hello?" Jen answered the phone, confused. It was past ten on a Wednesday night, and Jen normally would have been pouring herself a glass of red before bed.

No response.

Again, she spoke into the cell phone. Louder and more direct this time. "Hello?" She heard shuffling on the other end, fumbling. Then a breathy sound.

It sounded like breathing, but no words were spoken. She frowned, taking her phone from her ear and pressing "End." The number flashed once—an unknown caller—and then was replaced by the home screen.

Weird, she thought. It must have been a wrong number or an accidental dial. Her son, twelve-year-old Reese, would have called it a "butt dial" or something like that. She laughed to herself, placing the phone back into her coat pocket.

A gust of brisk February air forced Jen to walk faster. Her car was on the other end of the commuter lot, a five-minute walk from the campus. After tonight's lecture, she'd stayed late answering questions and grading some papers before leaving the darkened halls of the Massachusetts Maritime Academy.

Mark Adams, her husband, hadn't called, meaning everything with Reese was going well. She expected Mark to drop their son off at her place tomorrow after work, though she knew he'd be about an hour late, as usual.

The lot was dark. Only a few dim streetlights bathed the black asphalt in a drab yellow glow. She could hear her heels—an unfortunate necessity for tonight's formal lecture—clicking on the hard pavement, but no other sounds interrupted her thoughts.

She was tired.

She'd been awake for almost thirty-six hours researching, planning, teaching, and finally delivering the lecture she'd spent months on. It had been received well, to thundering applause from scientists, professors, and a few higher-level graduate students. She was proud of herself, but it was time to sleep.

The small Honda Accord appeared out of the darkness as she approached. Man, how long have I been here? she thought, noticing the water streaks of a long-gone mist dried on her windshield. The top of the silver sedan was covered in a shining glitter of frozen specks, remnants of the brief snowfall they'd had earlier that day.

She reached into her other coat pocket, looking for her keys. Her cell phone chirped again and began vibrating.

Again? Who is it this time? she thought as she saw another unknown number flash on the screen.

"Hello?" she called into the phone, this time her annoyance coming through in her voice.

"Jen? Hey. It's Mark."

She reached her car door and frowned. A shadow danced behind her, and its reflection on the window caused her to jump. She whipped around, not knowing what to expect.

The lights were playing tricks on her. A cat, bounding across the parking lot chasing some unknown prey, disappeared behind an SUV. She let out a sigh and spoke again into the phone.

"Mark? Hi — sorry... it came up as an unknown number. What's up? Everything okay?"

"Well, no… Jen. You need to come here. Hurry. It's Reese."

Her heart immediately began to rise in her throat. Of all the calls she hoped she'd never get... She grabbed her keys, hands shaking, clicking the unlock button before they were out of her pocket.

The car clicked as it unlocked, and the headlights flashed twice. She reached for the door, preoccupied with the phone call, her mind racing in terror. "Mark, what happened?" She tried not to panic, telling herself that his asthma must just be flaring up again or that he had a bad scrape.

But her motherly instincts knew better.

"I came home after I went out to grab ice cream. He just wanted ice cream." Mark's voice was shaky, almost in a panic. "I mean, I was only gone for ten minutes. I should have made him come with me," he stammered.

Jen listened intently as she pulled the handle. The creak of the door was accompanied by the dome light flicking on as the door opened.

The car's interior was immediately illuminated, and her eyes had to adjust to the sudden change in light. As they did, they noticed something that caused her to stumble backward, tripping in her heels.

On the other end of the phone, Mark continued talking. "Jen, I'm so sorry. Reese is… gone. I came home; he wasn't here."

But the words didn't register in her mind, at least not yet. Jen was staring, horrified, at the man in the driver's seat of her car.

A man she worked with: Dr. Elias Storm.

He was motionless, not breathing. Jen began hyperventilating, a tightening scream working its way up her throat. She dropped the phone and let it bounce away.

Then she noticed the blood. Deep crimson covered his body, the rest of the seat, and most of the dashboard and windows. It also covered his face, dripping from his eyes.

His eyes.

Two long metal rods protruded from Dr. Storm's eyes, partially embedded in the man's skull. The kind of support rods they often used in the lab to prop up fossilized test subjects. They glistened in the dim lamplight, and the horrific scene finally took its toll on Jennifer.

She collapsed onto the pavement, blacking out on the hard ground.