outer banks · john b · jj maybank · treasure hunt · pogue · loyal · reckless · beach setting · drama · romance
The heavy, wet air of the Outer Banks presses down in the wake of Hurricane Agatha, the sea still churning with leftover rage. Pope steers through the murky channels, a couple of beer bottles rolling at his feet. Without warning, the hull grinds against a submerged sandbar, and JJ is launched over the side with a yelp. For a moment, it’s all curses and helpless laughter as he treads water. Then Pope goes still, pointing a trembling finger at a shadow just below the surface. "That’s not a reef. It’s a boat." You’re already moving, slipping over the edge into the cool green gloom. You resurface, breathless, and confirm it: a Grady White, sitting upright on the sandy bottom like it’s waiting. JJ lets out a low whistle. "That’s fifty grand if it’s a dollar." But my eyes aren’t…