by Sandra Cox
She hops down the two steps into the galley. Moments later, she’s back with a couple of canisters of water strung around her shoulder and a knife strapped to her waist.
“Go overboard. Now.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be along. Now go.”
“Not without you.”
“This is isn’t up for a vote or open for discussion. Do it now.” My voice cracks like a whip.
She still hesitates. “What are you going to do?”
“Make them think we died.”
Chapter 24
Confusion registers on her face. “Okay.”
“Get as far from here as you possibly can. Head southeast. I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes. Get the dolphin out of here too.”
“See you soon.”
“Go. And stay underwater.” As if I need to tell her. I throttle down and she slides over the side. I strap on the knife holster and make slits in both spare gas skins that are on board. Gas streams across the deck. I race into the galley and grab matches.
The whir of the blades and the boat’s engine are getting louder. I don’t have much time. I grab several rolls of paper towels, place them around the galley, and set each on fire. Keeping low, I slide into the sea.
I’m just in time. Through the clear blue water, I can see the chopper coming into view. I swim for all I’m worth.
The other boat is still a distance away, but the chopper has spotted the boat and is circling, beginning its descent. Then I hear a boom and even through the water can see a spectacular orange ball of fire.
Waves rise like a mountain. The pressure carries me up then under. Even though I expected it, it’s stronger than I anticipated. The water, which has always been my friend, tries to engulf me.
It will settle. I just need to survive until it does. I hope and pray Amy and her dolphin friend are far enough away.
The boat that was behind us is rolling back and forth trying to ride the waves. The pressure from the fire that shot straight up in the air has the chopper fighting for control.
I’m tossed a distance away. Finally, the current is down from small tsunami size to choppy waves. My visibility is back. Overhead all I see is clear sky with trails of wispy gray smoke. Cautiously, I stick my head out of the water and turn around. Even from a distance, I can see the orange flames. My stomach heaves. It’s an inanimate object but I love boats, and this boat has served me well. Still, better the boat than Amy.
The helicopter has regained its bearings and is flying in a circle around the fire. The other boat is making wide circles around the flaming craft. There are three divers leaning over the sides, waiting for the waves to calm is my guess. I have no doubt they’re working for Stranger. That means there won’t be any calls to the Coast Guard.
I drop back down and swim southeast. The water is so clear I can see quite a distance around me. Hopefully, soon, I’ll find Amy. The adrenaline rush slowly wears off and I’m tired, emotionally and physically drained. But I can’t think about that, I need to keep swimming.
In the distance, I see a streak of silver and white. Amy? The dolphin? Pushing myself, I manage to gain a little on them. I rise to the surface and give my signature whistle to let Amy’s buddy know who I am and where I am. I continue toward them, swimming hard.
I don’t know if Ar, the dolphin, heard me—Ar is as close as I can come to describing his signature whistle—but a little female swims up to me and nudges me. I stroke her, point toward Amy and Ar and with my hand on her fin, let her propel me through the water.
We travel fast, the water whishing as we speed through it. I can see them clearly now. Ar must have heard me because they’ve turned and are making their way toward us.
Then the unthinkable happens. We are almost to them when the last thing I want to encounter comes into view—a huge tiger shark. Get back, Amy, I scream in my head and draw my knife. Tiger sharks are man-eaters. Worse than great whites. Great whites will usually swim away after biting a human, or dolph as the case may be. Tiger sharks won’t.
I let go of the female. The chances of living through this aren’t good. Since I don’t have a fluke, I slap my hand in front of her, telling her it’s time to leave the area. I don’t want her to become shark meat. She gives me a loud, distressed pulse-squeak but doesn’t move.
The shark is coming straight at me. It must be fifteen feet long. I look at the wedge-shaped head and soulless black eyes and fight back debilitating fear as tingling jolts of electricity shoot through my nervous system. Its mouth opens. I drop down and jab at its jaw.
It glides away, circles back and comes at me again. My hand tightens on my knife. Every tooth in its mouth is visible. I kick back, but not quick enough. Razor sharp teeth clamp onto my wrist, a tooth presses the jammer deep into my skin. I plunge my knife into his snout again and again. But tiger sharks are as tenacious as pit bulls.
Blood is spurting from his nose and my wrist but neither of us gives up. Let go you, bastard. I push in the knife again. It does no good. He won’t let go. In that moment, I accept that I’m not going to survive. I grow lightheaded. This isn’t what I would have chosen but at least I’ll die free.
Then, like an avenging fury, Amy is there, plunging her knife into his side, burying it to the hilt. Even the dolphins lunge against him. He lashes his great tail, then lets go. Blood is everywhere. Some mine, lots from the shark. The tiger gives one more powerful flick of his tail fin then swims away.
Amy rips off the T-shirt she’s still wearing over her swimsuit, and wraps it around my arm. I give her a thumbs-up. Adrenaline is pumping through my system but when it wears off my wrist and arm are going to hurt like a mother.
She points to the surface. We rise, gasping for air. In tandem, the dolphins jump out of the water in graceful arcs then splash back down.
Tears are streaming down Amy’s face. “Oh my God, Joel. Are you all right?”
“Of course I am. You saved me.”
She swipes at her tears.
“Don’t cry. I hate to see you cry.”
“Just salt water.” She sniffs.
“It’s okay. I’m okay.”
“Of course you are.” She secures the bandage on my arm. It’s pink, but the water is washing the blood away. “Aren’t we a pair? Now we both have bum arms.” She gives a shaky laugh then looks around uneasily. “Let’s get going before any more sharks smell the blood.”
“Works for me.” The adrenaline is wearing off and, as predicted, my arm hurts like hell. I move too close to Amy and we bump our bad arms. “Crap. Sorry.”
She laughs. “It’s okay, tough guy. It hardly bothers me at all anymore.”
I push my lips up, attempting to smile while I hold my throbbing arm.
The little female nudges me. I put my arm around her and hold on. Amy does the same with Ar. “Who’s your new friend?” she asks.
“I call her To.”
“Hello, To.”
To makes a clicking sound.
“Why To?” Amy asks as we all push through the water. It’s pleasant, like being on a fast-moving floating device.
“Each dolphin has a signature whistle that tells the other dolphins who they are. The sound she makes comes closest to sounding like To.”
She gives me a surprised look. “I didn’t know you understood them. All these years I didn’t know.”
“It wasn’t information I wanted shared with the lab.”
A hurt look crosses her face. “I wouldn’t have said anything.”
“Of course not.” I hasten to reassure her while trying to ignore the sharp pain in my arm. “But we were closely monitored. No telling what was overheard.” I think about some of my exploits with the attendants and hope things weren’t monitored as closely as I think they were.
“So you understand their language?” she asks as we glide across the water.
The sun beating down and the loss of blood are making me diz
zy. “Yes. Their communication is more like our Morse code, abbreviated.” I lapse into silence.
“Hang on, Joel.”
Again, I try to force my lips up and end up settling for a nod. I think of Piper and Angel, and how in a few hours I’ll be seeing them. It gives me strength. Is it a mistake for Amy and me to join them? Are we putting them in danger? No, the jammers work. Nothing gets past these suckers. Their jamming capabilities are unbelievable. Thank God Bert had the water-proofed variety. I just hope the shark didn’t damage it when he tried to lunch on my arm.
My mind drifts. Time loses meaning as we glide through the water. Somehow, I manage to hold on to the dolphin. Pictures of Piper play through my mind. The first time I saw her. And knew in that moment she was meant for me, always for me. No. That’s not right. She’s not meant for me. She belongs to Tyler, who risked everything to free my daughter.
My treacherous mind doesn’t listen. It continues to dwell on Piper.
Her lean, muscled body pressed again mine. The sweetness of her kiss. Her golden voice. Her turquoise eyes. The joy on her face at her first glimpse of Angel.
Angel. My mind drifts to my daughter. Yes, that’s safer. I can claim Angel. Soon I’ll be with them. I’m going home, home to her and her mother. And I’ll stay in whatever capacity Piper will have me: friend, lover or husband, preferably all three. No, that’s not right. I’m dizzy. I can’t seem to hold a thought. Piper will be my friend. Nothing more. Even if we were made to be together.
My hand slips from the dolphin and my head flops into the water and I choke.
“Joel!” Amy puts her arm around me. “Not that much longer,” she encourages.
“Any sign of the helicopter or boat?” I manage to ask as I grip the little female with my other hand and hang on.
“No. I think your ruse worked.”
“Good.” It’s all I can manage to say. I float in and out of consciousness.
“Joel, take some water.” Amy thrusts a bottle at me, bringing me back to full consciousness. I really don’t want it, but I manage to down the bottle, before it slips from my grasp and floats away. “Oops. Littering.”
“Yeah, better watch that.” Amy gives me a worried smile.
“Don’t want a sea creature swallowing it,” I mumble and think about swimming after it, but can’t seem to work up the energy.
“If anything does, let’s hope it’s that damn tiger shark. But we have to get you to land.”
“Hated blowing up the boat,” I mumble.
“Yeah, me too, but it was a smart move.”
“Quite a record huh? Sinking a truck and blowing up a boat.”
“Yeah, not too many people can make that claim,” she jokes.
“You sure nothing is following us?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
We lapse into silence and continue to swim. What feels like a long period of time passes before Amy says, “Land up ahead. I think it’s the main island of the Bahamas. We’re going to have to go there and get some supplies. Do you have your wallet on you?”
“Spoken like a female.” I give a weak laugh.
“That’s sexist.”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“Well, do you?”
“Do I what?” My head is pounding, my arm feels like there’re shards of glass in it, and there’s a haze over everything.
“Do you have your wallet?”
“Yup. What’s the plan?”
“Get you to a room and we’ll go from there.”
“Good plan. No way do I want Piper to see me like this.” My head lolls. “Just friends. Me and Piper.”
The next thing I’m aware of is gritty sand and sharp shells pricking my body. “Come on.” Amy wheezes.
“Where are the dolphins? They didn’t come this far in, did they?”
“No, of course not.”
“You hauled me by yourself.”
“Yeah, and you may look streamlined but you feel like a two hundred pound sack of potatoes.” Her breath is coming in sharp, short pants.
“Only a hundred and seventy,” I try to joke weakly.
“Can you stand?”
“Sure.” With her help, I push to my feet. “Where are we headed?”
She points. “See those two palm trees over there?”
I squint and follow her finger, which keeps coming in and out of my line of vision. “You mean those four palm trees.”
“Oh, Joel.” Her voice holds distress. She touches my forehead. “You’re burning up.”
“Damn shark,” I mumble.
“You can say that again.”
“Damn shark.”
“You’re going to live.” She gives a trembly giggle.
“Gotta do something first. It’ll save us time later.”
“Joel,” she starts to protest.
“Help me back in the water.”
“Joel…”
“Please, Amy.”
She sighs and caves. With her arm around me, she leads me back into the sea. We wade in until it’s waist high, and then I float deeper. I give first Ar’s, then To’s signature whistle.
Not far away, they come immediately.
I touch first one then the other, their skin slick, wet and warm beneath my fingers. I give my signature whistle. Then put a different pitch on it, Piper’s whistle. I point to me, to Amy, and then make a circling motion to encompass the islands. I do this several times. I think they understand. At least, I think To does, since she moves her head up and down.
“Okay, Ames, to the oasis.” We head back toward shore and the dolphins swim away.
“I’m going to ask you about that later, when you’re feeling better,” Amy informs me, as she swims with her arm around me.
“’K.” Even saying that is an effort.
We hit shore and stumble to the palm trees. She dumps me. Hands on her knees, she tries to catch her breath.
“How are you holding up?” I manage to get out.
“I’ll live,” she responds shortly. “Give me the credit card.”
I think about making a joke about wives and sisters but decide it’s not worth the effort. I fumble in my pocket for my waterproof pouch and hand over the rest of the cash. “We’re too close to Piper to use the credit cards.”
“Okay. Rest, Joel.”
I’m asleep before she walks away.
* * * *
The next thing I know, she’s shaking my shoulder. “I got us a room and it’s just a couple of blocks away.”
A couple of blocks might as well be a couple of miles. But I have to do this. Ignoring the blistering heat, my thirst, and my throbbing wrist, I think of Piper and Angel. I grasp the rough bark of the tree and pull myself up.
“It’s right on the beach, individual cottages. Not the best. Not the worst.”
I push myself along. Each step feels like my last. “What the hell is wrong with me? It’s just a bite, for God’s sake.”
“Let me count the ways.” Amy’s chest heaves as she pulls and pushes me along, her own, personal, one-hundred-seventy pound sack of potatoes. “Loss of blood, fever, dehydration, infection. Who knows what that monster chomped on last?”
“I believe it was my arm.”
She ignores that. “We’re damn lucky our dolphin friends got us out of there, before any more sharks appeared.”
“That’s the second time I’ve heard you swear. Leif was a bad influence on you.” It couldn’t have been me.
“I liked working the rigs when Leif was in charge. Here we are.” She leans me up against the door of a cottage covered in faded pink paint, opens the door and gets me as far as the bed where I drop. “Thanks,” I say before I’m out like a light.
I don’t know how much time has passed before she wakes me, forces water and a generic fever and pain reducer down me, then pours hydrogen peroxide over my arm, which fizzes like champagne.
“Watch the jammer.”
“I am. This doesn’t look good.”
“The peroxide will take care of it.”
She hands me another bottle of water.
I gulp it down. “I think I’m just dehydrated. What about you, are you drinking your water?”
“Yeah, big brother, I am.” She puts away the supplies, then grabs another bottle of water for herself and sits on the other bed. “I’m going to take a nap and get us something to eat.”
“Sure.” I finish my water, roll over, and once again, I’m out like a light.
The next time I come to, it’s not Ames but the greasy smell of hamburgers that brings me around. It should make my stomach roll but instead my juices start gurgling like something in a test tube. I must be feeling better.
Muscles stiff and groaning, I pull myself up. Amy hands me a white paper bag with grease stains on it. She has dark craters under her eyes, and her skin has a yellow cast to it. Of course that could be the lights. It must be night since the lamps are on. “You look like hell.”
“Is that the pot calling the kettle black?” She reaches over and touches my forehead. “You’re still warm but not burning up. As soon as you’re done eating, I’ll change your bandage and pour more peroxide over your wrist and arm.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Yes.”
I wolf down my food. She changes my bandage and gives me more water. This time, I notice she got the water that’s laced with vitamins. She hands me a generic pain reliever then she crawls into her own bed.
“Thanks for everything,” I say before I drift back to sleep.
When I wake next, light is pouring through the windows. My arm still hurts but I only feel marginally feverish.
Amy’s bed is empty. For a moment, ice cuts through my veins and I can’t breathe. She’s probably out getting us breakfast, moron, I tell myself. I hate this. I hate that my baby sister is taking care of me. It’s not the way it’s supposed to work.
The door opens. Sure enough she walks in with a sack that has a yellow arch on it. The famous food chain must be nearby.
“Good morning.” She hands me a hot paper cup. I lift the lid. The fragrant steam rising from the dark beverage makes my mouth water.
