Jacky floated in the small chamber, turning his head, looking, evaluating. He could only see whatever was captured in the thin twin beams of light from the torches on the side of his facemask. Working this way made it hard to evaluate the exact appearance of the chamber. It was like seeing segments of a picture and trying to envision the thing in its entirely.
He did get a fair idea of the place, though. There was a metal sheet against the roof, connected to another on the floor by a thick oak beam. Jacky guessed this was a makeshift pillar in case of collapse; the engineers of the Money Pit had known fully how pliable was the land of Oak Island.
The chests shown in the video taken by the Canadian broadcasting Corporation way back in 1971 for Triton Alliance were against one wall. Jacky swam over, passing the pillar. He put his hand round it and pushed for extra momentum; the pillar wobbled, the upper metal plate grating against the rock. Jacky felt the shifting, saw the rock grains floating down from the roof. They were like black hailstones in the light from his twin torches.
Jacky ran his hands over one of the chests. They were small, made of wood with raised metal rails and an arched lid. He tried to open one. Locked. He pulled a hammer from his belt and struck at the lock. The water made his movements slow, but there was enough force to cause a reaction, although not the one he expected.
Instead of busting the lock, the blow snapped all four rotted stiles, or legs, and the heavy chest crashed to the floor. Even though the distance the chest dropped was only a few inches, the weight of it was enough to send a boom resounding around the chamber and to dislodge rock dust, which swirled about around Jacky like a curious gas. It was so thick that even the powerful torches on his facemask couldn’t penetrate it.
Jacky was still, waiting until the cloud dispersed. Slight claustrophobia began to set in, quickly eroding as visibility returned to him.
When the cloud was gone, Jacky found himself staring not at three chests but at two. Puzzled, he leaned closer, squinting to see better. The place where the third chest had sat was bare. It was gone. No, wait, what was this - a hole? He moved closer, peering down. A hole indeed.
He remembered his own theory about a chamber below this one. The weight of the chest crashing to the ground must have sent it through the thin floor and into the chamber below.
Jacky poked his head through. Hardened to surprises and shocks as he was, even Jacky Jackson could not help but let out a yelp as he found himself staring at a face, a human face with teeth bared, a face that was coming towards his, a pair of arms reaching for him, fingers grasping.