8. Garrett #2
Not a single soul in sight except our boats.
Back in Texas, when I needed a break, I’d often take my mare and head out into the remote backcountry.
Miles and miles of arid landscape. There was peace in being one with nature.
I firmly believed man was made to live in caves and had never really moved past that deep need.
That same feeling of peace came over me now.
Braddock had positioned himself immediately beside me.
He stood to my right, facing out toward the water.
His right leg pressed firmly along mine, from the lower thigh, past my knee, and down the length of my right shin.
It was a firm point of pressure that couldn’t have been casual.
He had to know he was pressing against me, which meant it wasn’t accidental.
I didn’t know how to interpret that. He kept surprising me with these annoying little things he did. But I pushed that thought to the recesses of my mind to be examined later, when I was alone.
I searched the water but couldn’t spot anything. How the hell anybody expected to find one particular animal out here was beyond me. Braddock’s whale, Lady, wasn’t just going to raise her flippers and wave at us, was she?
Just as I was about to ask him, Braddock reached inside the duffel-like gear bag between his feet and pulled out a small radio and earpiece unit. He pressed the earpiece securely into one ear, adjusted it with two fingers, then tucked the radio unit into a protected pocket inside the bag.
“Zodiac Two, this is Zodiac One. Comms check.”
He listened for a moment. Satisfied, he reached down into his gear bag again and lifted a pair of enormous black marine binoculars.
They were the largest binoculars I had ever seen outside of mounted equipment—heavy, broad-bodied things wrapped in black rubber, with objective lenses nearly as wide as my fists.
Braddock settled the strap behind his neck, raised them to his eyes, and began sweeping the empty horizon.
The wind blew the longer strands of his hair across his face.
I stared up at his lips as he communicated with the other Zodiac about positioning.
Had his lips always been that pink? With his face half hidden behind the binoculars and his body dressed in black from head to toe, somehow the pinkness of his lips was doing strange things to me.
Fuck.
“Zodiac Two, we’re coming up on her last known position. Let’s do a wide circular sweep.”
I glanced behind us. The second Zodiac was no longer following directly in our wake. It had peeled away and was traveling on a widening angle, putting more distance between the two boats.
Dexter was too far away now for me to make out his face clearly, though I could still identify him by the way he sat forward, as if sheer enthusiasm might help him spot the whale first.
Braddock kept the binoculars raised while our Zodiac continued along the widening curve of the search pattern. His right leg remained pressed against mine, steady and warm through all the layers between us. Keith had another pair and was slowly sweeping the horizon.
I followed the direction they were looking, but all I saw was dark water moving in slow, gentle undulations.
Suddenly Braddock went still. “I’ve got her.”
Keith straightened up. “Where?”
“Eleven o’clock. About fifty meters.”
“I think I see movement,” Keith said. “Just under the surface.”
I strained to see. Nothing.
Then Keith lowered his binoculars. “Lost it.”
“So did I.”
Braddock’s voice remained calm, but the excitement underneath it was unmistakable. He turned to our driver. “Take us left, John. Eleven o’clock.”
The Zodiac changed direction beneath us.
I searched the water harder now. Lady had apparently been there. But I had spotted absolutely nothing. I felt frustrated.
“Hold here,” Braddock said without lowering the binoculars.
The engine dropped to an idle.
“Shut it down?” the driver, John, asked.
“No. Leave it running. Put it in neutral, but keep the engine on so she can hear us.”
Huh. Interesting. If it were me, I would shut it down so we could have the quiet to search for her.
Braddock lowered his binoculars and looked down at me.
“Humpbacks don’t echolocate. They don’t use sound to map what’s around them the way dolphins and toothed whales do,” he explained in another eerie moment where he seemed to have read my mind.
I had a flashback to our fencing match. How he had been the most formidable opponent I’d ever sparred against, despite being a lighter man than me.
I couldn’t explain it, but we both had this instant connection.
We could read and predict each other’s subtlest movements. It had been thrilling until he cheated.
Now I appreciated him being able to anticipate my unasked questions. I nodded.
“She needs to hear the motor,” he continued. “If we go silent, she may not know exactly where we are and may come under the boat.”
“Ah.”
He resumed scanning. Several long minutes passed. No one said anything.
“Landry.”
“Yeah?”
He held the binoculars with one hand and reached for me with the other. Before I could ask what he was doing, his gloved palm closed around the side of my head. His fingers pressed near my ear, and he turned my face firmly toward a section of water off the bow.
“Look there.”
I did.
“Don’t take your eyes off that patch.”
His hand remained on me for another second, holding my head in place as though he didn’t trust me not to look elsewhere.
“I’m looking, but I can’t see anything.”
He was pointing to a patch of water some fifty meters out. The water there remained infuriatingly ordinary.
“Keep looking. I saw her down there.”
My eyes started to sting from refusing to blink. The silence aboard our boat felt heavy. Four men waited around a patch of empty ocean as though we had gathered for an appointment and the guest had neglected to arrive.
Then the sea exploded.