Captain Rourke

by Helena Newbury

  My stomach tightened. Almost as if he wants something bad to happen to him.

  That was why he kept pulling away. He was helping me, trying to save my life. But as far as he was concerned, his was already over.

  The next day, we dived again, starting at first light and continuing all day with only quick breaks for food. I gradually got more confident in the water and we ate through a lot of the search area. By late afternoon, we only had about a fifth of it to go. We’d either find it soon or...what if I got the clue wrong? What if we’re in the wrong place?

  Don’t think like that. We were running out of time. If we had to start all over again, we were screwed.

  We worked on, exhausted but feeling the tension. Neither of us wanted to quit or even take a break, not when we were so close to the end. I was almost out of air, swimming quickly over the coral, when everything suddenly went dark beneath me. Had a cloud covered the sun? I made out the edges of a shadow, cast by something above and behind me. A boat?

  I twisted onto my back to look. No. Not a boat.

  The thing was right above me, close enough to touch. It was at least twice as long as I was tall, its body blue-gray, the color of gun barrels and death. It parted its jaws, showing teeth that were serrated like knives.

  And then the shark swam straight towards me.

  31

  Hannah

  The fear wasn’t like the sick dread I got when I looked around and saw the empty, endless horizon. That happened in my head: it could be argued with, sometimes rationalized away. This was down in the pit of my stomach, deep and primal, a racial memory that stretched back millions of years. Shark!

  I knew I had to move but I just hung there, hypnotized. The mouth coming towards me filled my vision. All I could see was darkness, edged with teeth. I remembered the scars on Rourke’s stomach, a warning I’d completely ignored. I’d left the safety of land and come down here into its world. Now I was prey.

  The shark gave a flick of its tail and accelerated, jaws wide. I closed my eyes.

  Something barreled into my side, knocking me sideways and twisting me around. When I opened my eyes, Rourke was staring at me from six inches away, his hands on my shoulders. He kicked hard and hauled me up—

  We broke the surface twenty feet from the launch. Suddenly, my muscles unfroze: I knew what happened now. I imagined my legs as seen from below, pale and tempting as they hung down….

  I raced for the launch. The sun was low in the sky, turning the surface of the water gold. I couldn’t see down through it, couldn’t see if the shark was right below me, jaws opening—

  I grabbed the side and frantically scrambled in. Then I turned and saw Rourke still treading water: he’d waited for me to get in first, ready to help me if I’d needed it. I saw movement in the water behind him and let out a moan of terror. I grabbed him under the arms and pulled, terrified that any second he’d scream as teeth snapped closed below his waist—

  We toppled back into the boat together, him on top. We were pressed hard up against each other but I was so scared, there wasn’t room for it to be sexual. My arms were clasped around him where I’d pulled him in and I hugged him like a giant teddy bear, clinging to his chest.

  “It’s okay,” he said in my ear. “It’s okay, lass. We’re in.”

  My breathing gradually slowed. I loosened my grip and he rolled off me so that we were both on our backs, looking up at the sky. I tentatively raised my upper body and looked around.

  A fin cut through the water no more than six feet from the boat. Smooth and effortless, horribly fast. Instead of swimming past, it turned. Circling us.

  “Where did it come from?” I asked in a choked voice.

  Rourke was watching it grimly. “Sharks migrate. It’s probably moving through the area.”

  “So we can just wait for it to move on?”

  “Aye.” He stroked his chin. “But now that we’ve disturbed it, it might hang around for hours.”

  “Fine. We’ll wait until tomorrow.” I moved to the back of the launch: Rourke had showed me how to work the outboard motor. “Pull up the anchor, we’ll head in.”

  But he didn’t move. Instead, he looked at the water.

  My stomach lurched as I saw where this was heading. “We can wait until tomorrow!” I insisted.

  He looked at me. Then he picked up a fresh air tank.

  “You can’t go back down there!” I grabbed the air tank. “Wait! We’ll come back tomorrow!”

  He locked eyes with me. “There’s still some daylight left. We’re close. I can feel it. Can’t you feel it?”

  I went quiet. I could feel it. We’d nearly covered the search area. Whatever this “secret garden” was, we must be right on top of it. “But—” I started.

  He put a thumb against my lips. “If we wait,” he said, “it’s another day.”

  My lips moved against his thumb as I tried to think of an argument. But he was right. If we found the next clue now, we could travel overnight to the next one. If we waited until the next morning, we’d lose all that time. Time Katherine and I didn’t have.

  My protest died in my throat and I nodded. He left his thumb on my lip for another second before he removed it.

  He checked the new air tank and strapped it on. Then he pulled on his mask and I finally woke up and started moving. “I’m coming with you,” I told him.

  He rounded on me. “No!” he snapped. Then, in a softer voice, “I know how to swim with sharks. I can stay quiet. The more people there are moving around down there, the more it’ll get riled up.”

  My chest tightened. “I’m not letting you—”

  He fixed me with a look and then just nodded firmly. He was going to go down there for me, whether I wanted him to or not.

  I bit my lip. “I’m not worth—”

  His eyes narrowed in a way that made my heart lift and swell. Yes. Yes you damn well are.

  I was still reeling from that when he moved to the edge of the launch. “Whatever happens, stay on the launch,” he told me. “I’ll be back before dark.”

  He flipped over the side and, with barely a splash, he was gone.

  There was nothing I could do but wait. He knows what he’s doing, I told myself. He’ll be okay.

  But I couldn’t forget the shark’s serrated teeth. Or the scars on Rourke’s stomach from the last time he’d faced one. If something happens to him….

  I sat there scanning the water for any sign of his return. The sun sank lower and lower in the sky, turning the water orange and then red. He’d said he’d be back before dark. Another twenty minutes, maybe. I stared at the water, willing him to appear….

  A noise right next to me made me jump clean off the seat. The high-pitched tone had to cut through the air a second time before I realized what it was: the satellite phone was ringing. I let out a shuddering sigh of relief and answered it. “Hello?”

  “Miss Barnes!”

  Hobbs! It was good to hear a friendly voice. But he sounded worried. “What’s up?”

  “My office was broken into, sometime earlier today. I just got back and found it. I suspect it was someone working for Ratcher.” His voice became urgent. “Miss Barnes, they took my notes. I’d written down the location we worked out. He knows where you are!”

  I turned in a slow circle, the phone still clamped to my ear. And saw the ugly white bulk of Ratcher’s boat cruising towards me.

  32

  Hannah

  Shit. Shit, shit shit!

  I hunkered down in the launch. Luckily, both it and the Fortune’s Hope were mostly hidden by the rocks that surrounded the island. I was pretty sure Ratcher hadn’t seen either of them yet.

  But he didn’t have to find us. He had twenty men and lots of equipment. He could scour the whole search area in a few hours, even in the dark. If he found the clue first and took it, we were finished. I’d never find the Hawk.

  I looked at the water. And if Ratcher’s men found Rourke down there…. My stomach twisted.
He’d be outnumbered and completely unprepared. I had to warn him.

  The sun was sinking fast. He’ll be up in another fifteen minutes. But Ratcher wasn’t wasting any time. I could hear his voice echoing across the water, bawling orders. There were splashes as divers hit the water: he must have had them geared up and ready to go the instant they arrived.

  With shaking hands, I pulled on a fresh tank of air. There was no Rourke to do a safety check on my gear or make sure I had everything adjusted right. I just had to hope I’d remembered what he’d taught me.

  I looked at the water. Where the sun hit it, the waves were orange and crimson. But in the shadows it had already turned to deep, impenetrable black.

  I took a deep breath...and jumped in.

  It was even darker than I’d imagined. Anything beyond fifty feet was just blackness. And the shark could cover that distance in a heartbeat.

  I struck out in the direction Rourke had gone in, heart hammering in my chest. Every flicker at the edge of my vision made me twist to check if it was the shark. Every change in current against my ankle made me spin around, expecting to see jaws closing on my leg. I was close to all-out panic. I could just make out the launch’s anchor chain behind me. The urge to swim back to safety was almost overpowering.

  No. Rourke was down here because of me. I couldn’t leave him.

  I forced myself to stare straight ahead and just swim. I went faster and faster, shoulders burning and legs aching, imagining jaws opening behind me—

  Rourke loomed up out of the darkness and I was going so fast I whacked breathlessly into his chest. For a few seconds he just stared at me in disbelief. Then he grabbed my shoulders and glared at me, furious and worried. What are you doing here?!

  I mimed frantically but there wasn’t a hand gesture for what I needed to communicate. Eventually, I tore free of his hands, swam down to the bottom, and scrawled Ratcher in the sand.

  Rourke went stock still. Then the anger in his eyes evaporated, to be replaced with gratitude. We started swimming back towards the launch and the relief of not being on my own anymore was incredible. The darkness was rapidly closing in. By the time we reached the launch’s anchor chain, I couldn’t see more than twenty feet in front of me.

  Rourke pointed up and we started to ascend, me first. I was almost at the surface when a black shape slammed into him.

  At first, I thought it was the shark. Then I made out the arms tangled around him and the flashing silver of a blade. One of Ratcher’s men, in a wetsuit. And beneath the surface, far from any laws, he was going to carry out Ratcher’s threat and finish Rourke for good.

  I made a clumsy turn and swam back down. I had no idea what I was going to do, just knew I needed to help him. The man had grappled Rourke from behind and had his knife to Rourke’s throat. He was struggling to slash it across while Rourke strained to keep it away, the blade jerking and twitching, millimeters from his flesh.

  I didn’t know what to do so I just grabbed the man’s arm and heaved it away from Rourke. The man span around, slashing wildly, and I felt a momentary flash of pain. Then Rourke thumped into him from behind, his own knife drawn. The two turned to face each other and hung there in the water, eyeing each other. At least now it was a fair fight.

  My hand throbbed and stung. I looked down and saw threads of red rising from a slash across my palm, the blood curling and blooming in the water.

  Oh shit.

  Everything I’d heard about sharks flooded my mind.

  Oh SHIT!

  I clenched my hand into a fist but the blood kept escaping. I saw Rourke look towards me and his eyes went wide with fear as he saw the blood, too.

  I whirled around, trying to see in all directions. And saw the shark shoot out of the darkness, heading straight for me.

  33

  Rourke

  Hannah bolted, swimming for her life. But I knew in my gut she had no hope of outrunning it.

  I was ready to kill Ratcher’s man for harming Hannah, but every second I spent fighting him, she and the shark got further away. So I used an old Navy diving trick: I swam up above the guy, lunged down and slashed through his air hose where it joined his tank. He shot away, kicking hard for the surface so he could breathe again.

  Hannah and the shark were already out of sight. I shot off in the direction I’d last seen them, legs powering me forward, arms back to streamline me. All I could see was darkness. My heart was slamming against my ribs: I knew I was faster than her, but so was the shark. At any second, I expected to see a cloud of blood in front of me, the shark biting and tearing—

  I still had my dive knife in my hand and my fingers crushed the hilt. I’d bury it in the thing. I’d gut it, if it had taken her from me.

  The shark’s tail loomed out of the darkness. As I watched, it lunged forward and butted up against something. I swam closer, staying behind it so it didn’t see me.

  It was the fishing boat we’d swum past the day before. Some of it had rotted away but the wheelhouse was still intact and Hannah was inside, terrified, her back pressed against the far wall as the shark rammed its jaws again and again against the glassless windows. They were too small for it to fit through but the wood was already starting to crack. Riled up as it was, the shark was more than capable of smashing the boat to pieces to get at the blood it could smell.

  Hannah looked up at me with big, frantic eyes. What do I do?

  I stared at her, then looked at the shark. There was only one way to get it away from her. I brought my dive knife up to my hand.

  Hannah saw what I was maneuvering to do and shook her head. Don’t!

  I ignored her and pointed to the launch, telling her to go straight there as soon as I did this. Then I put the blade of the knife against my palm.

  Hannah stared at me, eyes shining with tears behind her mask. No!

  I slashed right across my palm and the blood billowed out in a red cloud towards the shark.

  34

  Hannah

  No!

  But it was too late. Rourke flapped his hand, spreading the blood around. The shark was just lining up to ram my hiding place again when it suddenly broke off and turned. Its black, dead eyes stared right at Rourke. Then it flicked its tail and shot forward, right towards him.

  He powered away, moving much faster than I could...but the shark was already gaining as they disappeared into the darkness. It’s going to catch him!

  I swam out through the boat’s window and made for the launch. My limbs were already exhausted from swimming from the shark but I forced myself forward. As I drew near, I glimpsed Rourke and the shark up ahead. The shark surged forward and Rourke twisted and dived beneath it, almost losing his mask as a fin clipped him. The shark circled around, jaws open and ready. It was only a matter of time.

  I swam towards the launch...and then froze.

  Beneath me, in the area we hadn’t searched yet, rocks lay in a rough circle. And between them, invisible unless you were directly above it, was a carpet of green seaweed. Pink, blue, and yellow coral bloomed like flowers. Their secret garden! It had to be. I could imagine Esme and Mace swimming here, finding it, and naming it.

  Ahead of me, Rourke glanced my way and saw that I’d stopped. He pointed frantically to the launch and then had to dodge out of the shark’s way again.

  I swam for the launch...then stopped again. I knew I had to get out of there: Rourke could only distract the shark for so long. But once we were back to the launch, we’d have to leave: we were massively outnumbered. Then Ratcher’s men would find the clue...and Katherine would die.

  I kicked with my flippers and swam down to the bottom. There was a clear patch in the center of the garden and some small stones had been piled there as a marker. I shoved them aside and started digging in the sand with my hands. The water turning cloudy but there was a pink tinge to the clouds. Shit! Digging was making my hand bleed more.

  I glanced up. Rourke had just evaded the shark again and—Oh God. The shark was circling a
round to get back to him. It would pass right over me and, if it smelled easier prey this way….

  I squeezed my hand into a tight fist and prayed. The shark’s shadow fell over me and it seemed to hesitate...then it flicked its tail and swam back towards Rourke.

  I dug frantically and—yes! The hard wood of a chest, much bigger than the first one. I cleared away the sand and heaved it out of the hole, panic lending me strength. There was no way I could get it to the surface, though, and we weren’t going to be able to come back down for it with the shark around.

  Thinking fast, I heaved it over to the launch’s anchor chain. Rourke was gesturing wildly for me to surface, his expression flicking between fury and fear for my life. I lifted the small anchor from the sea bed and looped the chain around and around the chest as if I was tying a parcel, then hooked the anchor into the chain. I’d just have to hope it held.

  Too late, I spotted the blood clouding the water: messing with the chain had opened the cut in my palm right up. The shark seemed to twitch...and then it suddenly twisted in the water and shot towards me.

  I kicked with all my strength for the surface. I came up right next to the launch, got my hands up on the side, and heaved my upper body in.

  There was an explosion of water behind me as the shark surfaced. I felt a pull on my leg and my blood turned to ice water.

  Then I tumbled forward into the boat. Seconds later, Rourke surfaced and hauled himself up and over the side.

  I lay on my back, panting in fear, and examined my foot. The whole front part of my flipper was gone, the ragged bite mark ending an inch from my toes.