Chapter 26
I clutch the monster book tighter, never reading a word.
Jessie naps beside me, flat on her back, paws in the air.
In the lounge room, Heath’s sprawled on the couch, watching TV with the sound on low.
Occasionally, I hear the distant sound of a laugh track, and the noise makes my jaw clench.
Makes me grip the book even tighter until my fists ache.
Ten minutes to go.
As time ticks down, my stomach churns, my breathing accelerates. I feel like I’m running a race, even though I’m lying in bed.
The TV finally shuts off. Footsteps on the floor, coming closer, closer. Jess rolls over, lifts her head.
Heath knocks twice. “You decent?”
“Yeah,” I answer quickly, dropping the book onto the blanket. “Come in.”
Heath pokes his head in. “I’m off,” he says almost apologetically. “Gotta check the nets now.”
Jessie wags her tail at him, and I manage a nod. Heath tilts his head to the side, concerned. “You all right?”
“Yeah!” I say. “I’m good.”
With a steady, unblinking look he examines me. Uneasy. And I ask, “Did you hear about the ghost shark?”
Something in his body softens, as if a weight has slipped off his shoulders. For a moment, anyway. “Wow,” he says softly, hand hanging loosely from the doorknob. “Thought you’d forgotten those stupid jokes I used to tell you.”
“They weren’t stupid,” I insist. “I loved them.”
“Really?” He gives me a smile, pleased. “I’m glad to hear that.”
He hovers in the doorway a moment longer, eyes misting. I wonder if he’s thinking of all the times we fished side by side as kids. Wonder if he’s thinking of the long lulls of silence and me, growing bored and restless, waiting for my rod to finally go off.
Hey, he’d say, what’s a sea monster’s favorite meal?
How do shellfish get to the hospital?
“Call me if you need me,” he says. “I’m only five minutes away.”
“De-fin-itely.”
“Nice one!” He grins, pulling the door closed. “Night, Min.”
I sit up. “Wait!”
He whirls around, surprised. “Yeah?”
I feel stupid. “The ghost shark,” I finally say. “It vanished into fin air.”
He offers a rare laugh, but his eyes are assessing, watchful.
A heavy silence settles after. “I love you, Min,” he finally says.
“See you in the morning.” He closes my door with a soft click, and Jessie rolls over again, paws in the air, eyes closing.
I wait, jaw tensed. Heath’s car finally rolls past the bedroom window, towing the Deep Sea.
And as soon as he pulls out of the driveway, I throw my blankets off and get to my feet.
—
I stomp down to Dad’s room and pull his door open, bracing for the fishy smell. I head to the wardrobe, breathing shallowly through my mouth as I wrench it open. I find what I’m looking for and stuff it in my overcoat pocket.
It’s just past midnight when I rush out the front door, the wind relentless.
My shoes slap against the pavement, the streetlights flickering overhead.
The street’s empty, but the shadows feel alive.
I glance over my shoulder for just a second, barely slowing down, my stomach rolling in fear.
But no one’s out tonight. The neighbors’ cars are tucked inside garages; the lounge room lights are off.
Everyone’s asleep. No one is going to witness what I’m about to do.
Go, I tell myself. Go!
I run as quietly as I can, headed for beach number 1.
—
The moon shines down like a weak torch as I climb the sand dunes, avoiding the roads. I step over rusty beer cans, stumbling through the sand, leg muscles cramping as the sound of the waves roars closer and closer.
By the time I reach the top, my forehead is covered in icy sweat and the stitch in my side makes me gasp in pain. I retreat to the shadows, hands on my knees, my breaths quick and shallow.
I straighten up slowly, looking over my right shoulder to the empty parking lot. Heath would’ve parked his car at the dock before climbing aboard the Deep Sea. I wonder if he’s made it here already, or if I beat him to it.
I’m still scanning the lot when I hear the sharp sound of laughter behind me. I drop to the ground, crouching low, gulping down breaths to stay quiet. My ears ache with the noise of the waves and, underneath it, the crunching of footsteps on gravel.
Soft laughter, a voice calling out, half lost in the wind, “Don’t go chasin’ the bloody wombats!”
Shit.
My shoulders tighten when I see the dog. A black Lab, ten meters away, sniffing at the tussock grass.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I crouch there in the dark, legs burning, frozen to the spot. If they spot me…how the hell am I supposed to explain to this stranger why I’m crouching in the sand dunes in the dead of night?
Unless…this person isn’t a stranger.
I peer through the tussock grass to the parking lot, narrowing my eyes when I see the silhouette of a man. I scan his features, but it’s too dark to see his face.
The dog lifts its head, sniffs once.
And looks straight at me.
“Come here!” the man yells. I flatten my hands on the ground, ducking so low that my nose touches the sand. The dog barks urgently, and my heart seizes in fear as the man climbs the side of the dune, swearing under his breath.
I stop breathing.
“Get here now!” the man commands, slipping his hand into the dog’s collar, roughly pulling it away.
The dog won’t stop barking. It rises up on its back legs, straining hard.
I flinch with each bark and wait, breathless and anxious, until the barking subsides and the footsteps retreat.
When I’m sure they’re gone, I raise my head and scan the parking lot.
Empty.
I get slowly to my feet. With a quick glance to my left and right, I creep to the edge of the clifftop, the boom of the waves pounding my eardrums as I get closer. Wind claws at my hair, stinging my eyes as I hide in the shadows, staring down at the dark water.
And there it is.
A blur of white cruising through the darkness. I reach into my pocket and dig out the binoculars, scanning the scrawl of words on the side of the boat. Yes, it’s her.
The Deep Sea.
I hover there at the cliffside, standing sideways to shield my body from the wind. I scan the boat through the binoculars, not even sure what I’m looking for as it races through the water.
My pulse quickens when it starts to slow down near a marker buoy. The captain gets to his feet, hands still on the wheel as he peers over the side into the water. Heath. A man beside him is tucked into the passenger seat in a loose ball of limbs, eyes fixed on a mobile phone. Luke.
The boat comes to a stop, bobbing on the water, disappearing for a moment as a wave rolls past. And when the view clears, I stare down and freeze.
Heath is standing in the middle of the boat, staring straight at the clifftop.
I swear, he’s looking right at me. Instinctively, I duck, but there’s no way he can see me here.
I’m hidden in the darkness, dressed all in black.
Even if he had binoculars, he’d struggle to spot me.
So, why is he staring so intently at the clifftop?
I glance behind me, terrified the man and his dog will reappear. I brace myself to run, ready to flee at any second. But there’s nothing. Just the dark and the wind blowing over the tussock grass.
I turn back, bringing the binoculars slowly up to my eyes. He’s moving now, stalking up and down the boat, pointing at the water as Luke leans over the rail, looking down. Heath crowds in beside him, peering intently into the water.
Shark nets, Luke had said. The VFA put ’em up last month. Two meters under the surface, a hundred meters long. S’posed to reduce the chance of an attack.
I raise an eyebrow in surprise as Heath drops into the skipper’s seat and Luke shines a torch on the surface. They must be looking for any tangled wildlife.
Stingrays, turtles, none of the big boys yet…
The Deep Sea cruises parallel to the shore as Luke shines his torch alongside, inspecting the nets. I lower the binoculars, feeling foolish. I don’t know what the hell I expected to see, but it wasn’t this.
But then.
Luke whirls around, eyes scanning the clifftop, his body frozen. From his spot at the skipper’s seat, Heath glances first at the deserted beach, then slowly raises his head to the parking lot. I check it, too, pausing to glance over my right shoulder at the empty lot.
What are they looking for?
Heath turns to Luke, and it looks like he’s calling out something over the idling engine. Luke walks quickly to the kill tank. He crouches down, wrenches it open, and reaches in.
The next part happens so fast that I’m reeling.
Heath guns the engine. The Deep Sea speeds down the length of the net like it’s running a race.
Luke scrambles to the rail, and I look down at his hands.
He’s holding something. Whatever it is, he’s struggling with it.
It’s tucked under his chin, spans the entire length of his chest. A barrel. Silver.
I watch as Luke sets it on the ledge, opening the top with a quick twist and spewing its contents into the water. Heath glances at Luke, and just as quickly turns his focus back to cruising alongside the net. There’s an urgency now to their work. Quick. Get it done. Get it done.
Get what done?
Luke’s at the kill tank again, hauling up another barrel. He drags it to the side of the boat, opens it. I hold the binoculars tight against my face, breathless. I squint hard, staring at the contents of the barrel as it spews into the water.
Blood. He’s dumping gallons of blood into the ocean. He empties it, throws it back into the kill tank. Reaches in with both hands, pulls something out.
Oh my God…
Luke throws kangaroo hunks into the water, hind legs and tails like he’s throwing a ball to a dog.
The cabin in the woods…the decapitated kangaroos. I stagger back, the binoculars slipping from my hand as the realization hits me.
They’re not keeping the sharks away at all.
They never were.
They’re bringing them in.