The Undertow / Season 1, Episode 6
Tangled in the Tide
Rena Okafor’s boots skidded on the wet dock as she hauled the line tighter, the rope biting into her palms through her gloves. The buoy they’d pulled from the north channel bobbled in the gray churn below, its rusted bell clanging dully with each slap of the tide. Nowak was crouched beside her, his breath fogging in the early morning chill, gloved hands wrestling with the knot of fabric and bone they’d found tangled to the buoy last night. The air stank of brine and diesel, the kind of smell that clung to your throat like a second skin. Gulls screeched overhead, their cries sharp as shattered glass against the low hum of the cutter idling a few yards off. “Still think this is just some old fishing junk?” Nowak muttered, his voice rough from the cold. He didn’t look up, his fingers picking at the knot, but she could hear the edge in his tone, the one that’d been there since they dragged that body off the rocks two days ago. A body with lungs full of saltwater, though the man’s boots hadn’t even been wet. Rena didn’t answer right away. Her eyes were on the fabric—a scrap of red flannel, faded but still bright enough to stand out against the gray of the bay. It wasn’t just debris....