Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
The eleven-hour workday arrived, and Angie stepped out for her lunch break much later than normal. She sat alone on a bench overlooking the shoreline. Close enough to take in the calming, rhythmic roll of the waves, but far enough away to stay out of sight of any passing mer.
Despite the serenity, the absence of squawking gulls and terns circling the blue struck a discordant chord in her. The skies were as silent as the seas.
She unzipped her light jacket, taking another bite of her steamed bun, the soft, fluffy texture hugging salty, chewy pork and leek inside.
She made a small batch last night, just enough to tie her over for a day, using Māma’s classic recipe, and after a quick reheat this morning, it was still fresh and delicious.
Where she normally had two buns per meal, today she had one, supplemented with a handful of pickled cucumbers.
Angie tried her best not to think of the tasks awaiting her after lunch. Not only did she have to help inspect all the perennially docked boats and take inventory in their many warehouses, now the task of organizing and maintaining their file systems fell to her as well.
Stop it. Focus on your break or you’ll drive yourself insane.
She looked out to the seaside, where much of it was blocked off by ropes to prevent workers from wandering too close to the water. She grimaced.
A demanding squawk came from a gray and white herring gull who landed at her feet, cocking its head.
Angie pursed her lips, and ripped off a piece of her only bun.
The gull opened its yellow beak and eagerly snatched it.
It looked upward, loud squawks belying its minute size, and seemingly out of nowhere, more gulls appeared.
Angie smiled to herself. Gulls’ ability to smell food from miles away never failed to surprise her. “Alright. You win.” She picked off the bread from her bun and tossed them to the birds, leaving her to eat only the filling. The gulls dispersed, leaving the skies silent once more.
“Hope you don’t mind the company.” Stefan plopped down next to her. Angie took too big of a bite and swallowed quickly, coughing and swallowing hard again to get the meat lump down. Stefan reached out to slap her upper back. “You okay?”
“Ate too fast.” Angie coughed again and took a big swig of water.
“Don’t go dying on me now.”
“Hah. Trying not to. What’s going on?”
“I was taking a walk and got a whiff of those steamed buns. Something about it is uniquely yours and your dad’s. Figure chatting with you beats walking around in circles.” Stefan winked at her. Angie side-eyed it as she finished her lunch, her stomach growling. “Was that you or me?”
“Me.” Angie pulled out a tissue from the travel pack in her jacket and wiped her hands. “Why were you walking around in circles?”
“Beats thinking about how hungry I am. We’re being conservative with what we still have in the house.
So we’re skipping breakfast and lunch.” Stefan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Since we don’t go out for dive lessons anymore and business has been slow at the shop, Ken and I were thinking of going for our own dive today.
See if any boats were going out, since there haven’t been any mer attacks in a while.
Thought it might be safe. But, there’s that.
” He gestured to the blockade by the shore.
“Could be why they haven’t attacked. Anyway, we stayed and enjoyed the beautiful day.
Ken went to chat with Nick and some of the guys. ”
“Beautiful day?” Angie raised a dubious eyebrow. “The sky is a giant cloud, and it looks like it’s going to rain any minute.”
“Hate sunny days! It bothers my eyes, and I burn like crazy. We get way too much daylight now as it is. This keeps up, and I’ll turn into a lobster.” His words carried a scornful intonation. “The first one we’ve seen around here in months.”
Angie chuckled, acknowledging the sad reality.
Stefan rubbed the stubble on his jawline. “The seas are looking rough.” He motioned with his head toward the choppy, scattered waves merging into one another. Angie twitched at the mention, but said no more. They both knew its meaning, that mer were likely lurking.
“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. Though they were obscured from the mer seeing them, she asked, “Should we move farther away?”
Stefan stood and she followed as they relocated at a safer distance.
“How are the grandkids?”
Stefan followed on Angie’s purposeful tangent without missing a beat. “They flew back to Juneau. Speaking of the no-lobster problem, they said seafood prices were too high there. Looks like they’re feeling the shortage, too.”
Angie’s muscles went rigid. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”
They slipped back into a tense silence. A breeze passed, plastering a lock of hair on Angie’s face. She brushed it off.
Two dock workers walked near the blockade, picking things up from the ground and shoving the contents into a large bag.
Stefan spoke from behind her. “What’s going on? Why are they so close to the water?”
“My dad and Nick are sending out a lot of cleanup crews. They found traps around. One of the maintenance crew ladies got caught on caltrops made from coral. It blended in with the sand. She was going with her crew to fix up the gangway.”
Stefan stared, riveted. “So, what happened?”
“Her crew was quick enough to get her out. Then they bailed.”
Stefan let out his breath in an audible woosh.
Returning her attention to the two dock workers, Angie noted they were getting too close to the blockade and into the danger zone.
“Angie—”
“Hold on.” Angie had taken five steps in their direction before they changed course and moved away from the blockade. Her shoulders dropped.
The other worker stepped forward, her leading leg sunk beneath the sand. She screamed, dropping her bag and clawing in front of her, a futile attempt in staying above ground.
Angie broke into a full-on sprint, nearing the end of the dock when wood met ground and eventually sand. She was so close, so close.
A tidal wave twice as tall as Angie roared upward, and as if pushed by an unseen force, sped toward the coastline and crashed over the stuck worker, drowning out her cry for help.
The mer were here. One navy blue and one storm gray tail arched above the water before disappearing again. They looked much too close to the shoals.
Her colleague flailed his arms and bolted to where the stuck worker had been. The water receded, and she was gone, dragged into the ocean’s depths.
“No, come back!” Angie cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted as loud as her lungs would allow. The male worker skidded to a stop, eyes wide and mouth agape.
To Angie’s relief, he ran in her direction, toward the docks.
A jagged lance ripped through his chest, and with a choked gurgle, he fell facedown. Angie dropped to her hands and knees, breaths coming out in quick huffs, arms shaking and leg muscles tightening so much they cramped.
“Angie!” Stefan yelled behind her, pulling her to her feet.
What had come over her? It wasn’t the first time she had seen her colleagues fall to the mer, but this was the first time she’d seen someone killed in front of her.
She wasn’t prepared for the visceral reaction it invoked. Her heart hammered, mingled with a high-pitched ringing in her ears that temporarily deafened her.
And Kaden was the murderous mer’s prince. The gentle, handsome mer with sturdy hands and velvety lips and skin and a sleek, beautiful maroon tail.
She loathed to think that he played a part in ordering the attack. The notion sickened her and made her retch, bringing tears to her eyes. Stefan shouted into her ear. “We have to go! We have to tell your dad and Nick!”
Angie snapped out of it, short tremulous inhales and exhales making her hyperventilate. “O-okay. Okay. Okay.” She kept repeating it. If she believed it enough, she might eventually feel the same.
When she turned her gaze toward where her colleagues were felled, a white ship with a red stripe sailed past them.
A Coast Guard ship.
It sailed toward the horizon line, and disappeared.
Her initial shock subsided by the time Nick and Bàba arrived.
The men had carried the dead worker to the edge of the deck, closer and safer inland.
Bàba crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head, a glint of disgust in his eyes.
Nick stood with his hands balled into tight fists, knuckles drained of blood, his upper lip curled into a disdainful sneer.
Like Angie earlier, his shoulders and legs trembled, but she suspected it was out of anger, not shock. Or a mix of both.
Bàba knelt by the dead worker, pressing his hand onto his forehead.
“I asked him to show Marisa the ropes.” Angie wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself, or to her and Nick.
“They didn’t deserve this.” He stood. “How did they get past the blockade? It was meant to be out of the range,” he said with measured words.
“They have traps outside the blockade range. Must have army crawled up the beach between rotations or something.” Angie stood closer to Bàba.
“I’m guessing when Marisa triggered the trap, it alerted the mer.
” Bile burned in her throat when she thought back to what happened.
“The seas were choppy. They must have been nearby, watching.”
“I will have their heads strung along the seaboard. They’ve gone far enough.” Nick growled his words, cursing under his breath as he stormed off, footfalls loud and deliberate and slamming onto wood and concrete ground.
“We’ll contact their families and call the coroner to come pick his body up. All our people they’ve taken. We’ll get them back. Find them,” Bàba said, downtrodden.
“The Coast Guard hasn’t found anyone yet? I just saw a ship go by, and it didn’t even stop. I don’t know how long it was there for, but it must have been close enough to see them die.” Angie’s pressure rose thinking about it.
“Beau and Emily told me that if we see ships here, they’re probably going to the bigger ports to investigate the fish issue.” Bàba kept looking at the ground and rubbed his temples. “If you want to know more, you can ask them yourself tomorrow.” Turning on his heel, Bàba began to walk away.
Angie trailed behind him, and he walked ahead without waiting for her to catch up.
To her left, a pearly glint under the sparse sunlight caught her eye, and she craned her neck and stood on her tiptoes.
Then, a splash.
Bàba was out of sight now, and Angie leaned onto the railing until she nearly toppled over. Squinting and searching side to side.
Before the horizon line, a dark-haired head appeared above the water.
A mermaid.
Her hair was gathered into tight braids winding around the top of her head, and sunlight gleamed off honey bronzed skin.
Something about her rang familiar, but Angie couldn’t make out enough of her features to place her.
The mermaid ducked underwater, but her dorsal fin stayed visible.
She patrolled back and forth, as if searching for something beneath.
Then she stuck her head back up, eyes locking on Angie.
Angie stepped backward. The mermaid held her gaze, but Angie couldn’t tell if it was a challenging or curious one.
The mermaid ducked underwater again and didn’t resurface. Was she swimming closer to her, watching her still? The thought gave Angie goosebumps.
She turned and ran after Bàba.