Red Surf: Leah Ryan Thrillers (The Leah Ryan Thrillers Book 4)

by Tracy Sharp

  “Well, hello,” I said to them. “How are you guys doing?”

  “Hey, guys,” Logan greeted them. “You’d better make yourselves scarce.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You guys need to get to safety before you end up a snack for some shark that Logan plans to tease, by dangling me in a cage in front of it. Yeah. I’m shark bait. What do you think of that?” My nerves thrummed beneath my skin. I was jittery.

  Logan chuckled. “Leah, you’re too much.”

  Logan had a spare diving suit, but I refused to put it on. Just one look at the suit sent a streak of dread through me. I was aware that a black wetsuit would look a lot like a seal to a shark in the deep. Even inside the safety of a cage, I didn’t want to look like one of the staples of a shark’s diet.

  “Okay. This is what we’ll do. I’ll set the cage up part way below the edge of the boat, so that you can stand up out of the water if you want to. I’ll give you a snorkel mask so that you can stay down longer if you like.”

  “Sounds perfect.” I wasn’t crazy about going down there at all. But I’d be damned if I let him know how scared I was.

  I tried to slow my racing heart as Logan went upstairs to the deck and wrestled with the steel cage. Finally, I got my feet to move and went up to help him.

  Together we were able to lower the cage, five by seven stainless steel, into the water. One side of the cage attached to the side of the boat which had been outfitted to secure it.

  Logan nodded his head at the metal rings on the side of the boat. “Just secure those hooks to the metal rings.”

  It was awkward, but we managed to secure each hook onto the boat. “You sure this is secure?”

  “This cage can hold four people. You’re only one.”

  “But it’ll stay hooked onto the boat? What if the shark, or sharks, start knocking the cage around?”

  “It isn’t like in the movies, Leah. They aren’t the evil man-eaters the media makes them out to be. The reason people can free dive with them is because they can tell the difference between people and a seal.”

  “Unless you’re body surfing.”

  “In which case you look like a seal or a sea turtle. Right. Look, you’ve got about sixty centimeters of the cage above water. You can climb up out of the cage any time you like.”

  I stared at the spaces between the bars of the cage. They were larger than I liked. “Can the shark get its head stuck in the cage?”

  “No, the viewing gap is only 45 centimeters. It’s dangerous to the shark if it gets caught between the bars. It’s horrible when some of these shark diving companies don’t ensure that the cages are safe. Sharks get chunks taken out of them. I’ve seen sharks with scars like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “Really,” I said.

  “This cage has no sharp corners or edges, and I’ve got strips and caps anywhere that could be dangerous to them.” He gestured to various spots on the cage. “So they don’t get scratched or gouged.”

  “Awesome.” Nice that he was making sure not to hurt the sharks.

  Logan reached into a tackle box a few feet away and produced a large, fish fillet knife. He leaned over the boat and used the knife to tap a steady beat on the side of the boat. “Sharks can get seriously injured or even killed if they get trapped in these cages.”

  “Brutal. What are you doing?”

  “They like the tapping sounds and the vibrations. It usually doesn’t take them long to come and see me.”

  “Right.” My fight or flight instinct was kicking in. I didn’t think Logan had my safety in mind as much as he worried for the well-being of the sharks.

  But then again, making sure the sharks were safe by constructing the cage so that they could never get trapped helped to keep me safe. In theory, anyway.

  I had a million questions. Like, what if a shark jumped at me while I was climbing out of the cage? I knew from an internet search about shark facts, since this whole, creepy case began, that Great Whites can jump up to ten feet out of the water when attacking their prey. It was called breaching. I really didn’t want to end up between those huge, jagged jaws while climbing out of the cage.

  I’d also read that they can sense a small amount of blood in the water from three miles away.

  Logan would just tell me, once again, how sharks aren’t interested in people. I wasn’t completely buying that argument, yet.

  Straightening up, Logan continued tapping the knife on the edge of the boat, “We’re attaching this cage to the boat, but if you decide you want to be completely submerged, we can use a cable pulley system to lower the cage deeper into the water.”

  “I think I’m good. The cage attached to the boat is fine. I mean, what if the cable breaks?”

  Logan thought about it. Tipped his head to the side. “It’s not likely to break on its own, but if a shark becomes caught up in the wire somehow, we can cut the cage free and come get it later. That way the shark should be able to release itself.”

  I stared at him. “What about the person or people inside the cage?”

  “Hopefully you get them out before you cut the cage free. It won’t happen anyway. I make sure there’s no excess slack in the wire, and no wire is trailing from the boat. Any part of the cage that isn’t strong or secure can be ingested and cause an obstruction that could actually kill the shark.”

  I studied him, saying nothing. Kicked myself for getting on this damned boat to begin with. What the hell was I thinking?

  “I know. It sounds like I’m more concerned about the sharks. But somewhere around a hundred million sharks are killed world-wide each year for their jaws, their teeth, and their fins, to make tasteless shark fin soup, which has become a delicacy of idiots who have too much money and not enough compassion or common sense.” He shook his head. “Maybe, if they realized the levels of mercury and BMAA in the shark fins, they might think twice.”

  “What is BMAA?”

  “Beta-methylamino-L-alanine, or BMAA, is a neurotoxin found in the brains of Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s patients and patients with Lou Gehrig’s disease. It builds up in the cartilage of sharks fins in extremely high levels.”

  I stared at him. He seemed to be going off on a tangent, and I didn’t know if it was insanity or passion for the lives of the sharks.

  He continued, “Mercury is also found in sharks in significant levels, and is dangerous to unborn babies. In high enough levels, it’s been linked to spontaneous abortion and neuron degeneration in the brains of infants.”

  But then, he really didn’t seem crazy as much as pissed off. “I didn’t realize. That’s horrible.”

  His face softened. “Sharks balance the ecosystem. They tend to feed on the old, diseased and weak fish. We wipe out sharks; the fish population will be wiped out by disease. Oceans become overrun with algae, and life on earth is in really deep shit.”

  So he does care about people. “Okay. I get it, Logan.”

  “Well, you’re one. About seven billion more to go.” He visibly relaxed. Smiled.

  I laughed. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

  “I’m up for it. You’re perfectly safe. I promise you,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  I sighed. “Okay, Logan. You’re getting me in the cage. But don’t chum the water. Okay? If a shark shows up, fine. If it doesn’t, that’s cool, too. I won’t be disappointed.”

  I looked for the seals. They were gone, having made a hasty retreat. Sharks must be near.

  They were smart enough to get the hell away from sharks, not try to attract them. They were taking off to safety and I was about to get into a cage and let the sharks surround me. I was the goldfish in a fishbowl.

  Logan looked down into the water, “I don’t have to.”

  I looked down into the sea. A dark grey shadow passed beneath us.

  A deep sense of dread gripped my gut, and I actually took a step back.

  Logan smiled at me. “Showtime.”

  ***

&nb
sp; I wanted to back out. But I couldn’t do it.

  Logan took my arm. “Come on, I’ll help you get in.”

  I hesitated, scanning the water for the shark. “Where is he? I don’t see him.”

  “He went back under. Come on. I want you to see how gorgeous he is.”

  I turned and looked into his eyes, not knowing for what I was searching. Just something that would tell me that I wasn’t walking, or climbing, into a trap.

  He returned my gaze, his eyes crinkling at the outer corners. “You’ll be fine, Leah. Nothing will happen to you.” He lifted two fingers into the air. “Scouts honor.”

  “It had better not, Logan. Because if I die under there, I’m coming back and haunting your ass.”

  “People spend upwards of three grand to shark dive in cages. And they have a great story and awesome photos to show their friends and family. I’m giving you an exclusive shark dive.”

  Lucky me.

  Snorkel in place, I allowed him to help me climb down into the cage.

  “Look, Leah!” Logan pointed, and his voice was as excited as a kid at Christmas. “Isn’t he gorgeous? That’s a young male. A little seven footer.”

  I saw the dorsal fin heading toward the cage, and I felt a thrill of fear race through me.

  “Go under so you can see him!”

  I ducked under the water just as the young shark made a pass around the cage. I saw his fin heading away. I waited, my eyes adjusting to the dimness of the water. I looked up and saw that it had started to rain again. Big drops hitting the surface of the ocean.

  I looked forward again, and saw the young male shark’s head as it swam toward me. I recognized it to be a Mako shark. His smooth, streamlined body was dark blue with a white belly. He swam fluidly through the water, silent as death. He pushed his pointed nose into the viewing space, and I moved backward. I watched, entranced, as he pressed his toothy mouth around the top bar of the viewing space. He took a nibble, apparently found the metal to be bland, and swam away from the cage again.

  I began to feel a little less fear, replaced by exhilaration. I turned my head, and startled. Another, bigger shark had materialized almost magically from the left side. A tremor of trepidation spiked inside of me.

  For no rhyme or reason, I felt that this was a female, and she was big. Her enormous head hovered right in front of me. She looked at me, and I noticed, amazed, that her eyes weren’t black, but dark blue. This was a Great White. Identical to the one I’d encountered just a couple of days earlier.

  We watched each other for a long moment, mutual curiosity keeping our eyes locked. I moved forward, closer to her, and she turned sideways and seemed to sniff at the water around the cage.

  She was beautiful. As her huge body began to swim passed the cage, I reached a hand out and felt the hard, cold side of her, completely in awe of this majestic and perfect predator.

  Within seconds she had moved away from me. I stood up. Broke the surface of the water.

  “Did you see that?” I said. “She was amazing.”

  “She’s a Goddess,” Logan said, smiling widely. He nodded his head toward the water. “You have more visitors.”

  I sank down into the sea again, and my heart leapt into my throat.

  Several great whites swam around the cage. They glided up to the bars, studied me for a moment, and then slid away.

  Shark after shark opened their mouths, as if waiting to be fed. Rows of serrated teeth coming at the cage. A few began bumping the bars.

  This isn’t good. I stared, wide-eyed, at the display of ever growing aggression toward the cage.

  Adrenaline shot through me as I watched them. There were so many, and I began to panic. A couple of the sharks’ movements became twitchy. Quick, whip-like movements that sent chills up my spine.

  They’re getting angry. I need to get out. But there are so many. What if one or two jump out at me?

  I saw something reach into the water in front of me and felt it clamp down on my shoulder, the grip vice-like, and I screamed around the snorkel.

  Then I was pulled up out of the ocean.

  Logan grunted as he hefted me onto the boat. “A few of them are feeling a little territorial. Time go get out.”

  ***

  Wrapped in a towel inside the cabin of Logan’s boat, I sat shivering on a padded bench looking out at seagulls swooping over the waves.

  “Amazing, Leah. I got it on camera.” He placed a thumb drive in front of me. “It’s too big to email the file to you. But you can upload it onto your computer; throw it up on YouTube, whatever you like.” He sat on the bench next to me. “So what did you think?”

  “Incredible. Like you said.” But for some reason I couldn’t voice to him what I was really thinking. Yes, the sharks are incredible. Something was bugging me. I didn’t know a lot about sharks, but I was pretty certain they don’t simply surround shark cages when no chum had been dropped into the water.

  There was also no blood in the water around me. I didn’t have any cuts. Not so much as a paper cut.

  So why had the sharks surrounded me in such a large number? And why had they grown so agitated?

  As I plastered a bright smile on my face, some instinct made me stay silent about my questions. “Thanks, Logan.”

  He smiled back at me. “Sure. Let me know if you ever want to get back into the cage. Or if you like, I can teach you how to free dive with them. Swimming with sharks is the most fantastic experience you’ll ever have.”

  I forced a chuckle. “Slow down, there, cowboy. Let me absorb the experience of being in the cage surrounded by sharks, first.”

  His smile widened, teeth gleaming, and a flash of the strange, toothy smiles on the sharks that had studied me in the cage came back to me.

  And, all at once, I was certain that Logan was the one taking and killing these girls.

  I felt panic race over me, the same as I had when I was in the shark cage, and for an hysterical moment actually thought I might be safer under the waves with the sharks.

  The need to get away from Logan was overwhelming. But there was nowhere to go. I couldn’t jump into the ocean and swim back to shore. I was trapped on this boat with someone I was sure was a killer of women.

  I sighed, looking out the window to buy a few precious moments to gather my composure. Get him talking about his passion. Ask him about the sharks.

  “This is extraordinary, Logan. I think it’s really incredible what you do.” I kept my voice casual, but tried to sound sincere, looking at him, my face serious.

  He studied me over the black frames of his glasses. “Thanks, Leah.”

  I continued. “Sharks are awesome, astounding animals. They’re majestic, aren’t they? Regal.”

  His eyes widened and he nodded. “Yes. They are. It’s interesting that you used those words to describe them, because that’s exactly how I feel about them. You do get it, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I do, now. But, really, it took me going into that cage to see it. They aren’t the monsters the world makes them out to be. This is their territory. Their home. We are the intruders. And it’s horrible what people do to them, isn’t it? We’re too stupid to realize that if you kill off such an integral element of the ocean, everything else will eventually die. Like a domino effect.”

  He slapped his leg hard. “Yes! Thank Christ you see it, Leah.”

  “I know I’m not the only one, though. There must be shark advocates all over the world. Other marine biologists, like you, fighting for them.”

  “Sure, but it’s a long, hard battle and it feels like a losing one most days.”

  I wasn’t uncompassionate about the plight of sharks, and since taking this case, it actually did bother me that sharks were being killed stupidly. I had a much better understanding of why sharks bit people while they were swimming.

  I did believe people needed to be informed about where sharks hang out. They go where the food is. Don’t act like food. Don’t look like food. Jewelry looks like fish s
cales. Don’t wear bright swimsuits. Don’t swim at dusk or at night. Don’t swim in murky waters. Don’t swim where animals that sharks like to eat are swimming. Don’t swim where fish are being cleaned in the water. If you cut yourself on a rock or clam shell, get out of the water.

  Don’t be in the water where sharks are likely to be lurking. It’s often a matter of being at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

  As Logan watched me, his lips curved up at the corners. I felt like I was being circled, and there was nowhere to go.

  Time to end this morning. I frowned, knit my eyebrows and pinched the bridge of my nose.

  “Are you okay?” Logan asked, placed a hand on my arm.

  “Just a splitting headache. I think the excitement of being able to experience the sharks up close has been a bit too much for me.”

  “Would you like a cold cloth for your head? Some ibuprofen?”

  No, asshole. I want you to take me back to land. I’d encountered intelligent people who could be dense on more than one occasion. Was Logan dense? Or did he just not want the “date” to end?

  As if he were reading my mind, he said, “I’ll take you back, of course. I just meant, in the meantime, until we get back.”

  If he thought I would take meds from him, he was crazier than I thought he was. “No, thanks. I think just getting back will help. I’m really tired. I think a good night’s sleep is what I need.”

  He smiled, and something like bitterness crossed his face. “I’m sure Jackson will take good care of you.”

  My cell rang. Mick Jagger rocking it out. It was Jackson. “Speak of the devil.”

  “He’s probably out looking for you on a Sea-doo.”

  I hoped so. I spoke into my cell. “Jax.”

  “Where are you?”

  I was only too glad to tell him where I was. “In front of the old lighthouse. Dr. Logan is about to bring me back ashore.”

  Logan dropped his eyes and dipped his head, pressing his lips together.

  Jackson said, “Another body washed up. It’s not pretty.”

  A chill skittered over me. “I’m on my way.”