Chapter 31
They come in hard.
And they come in angry.
He’s right. My body freezes as the shark fin circles the boat. There’s a splash and silence. It disappears in the shadows like it’s made of them.
They position themselves below you…then they strike.
My heart thrashes so hard in my chest, he can probably feel it. He’s going to throw me to the fucking sharks.
I’m frozen at the rail, inhaling quick and sharp, peering down into the deep. But all I can think about is Donny Granger.
I shiver, chest rising and falling erratically, my thoughts tumbling over one another in a chaotic rush.
Your dad was a fucking nutter by then. And paranoid as all hell.
Paranoid…
In my mind, a door creaks open. My stomach drops, heavy, like the ground has fallen away. “What was he so paranoid about?”
My body is tense, bracing for something…Any second now, everything will change, and I won’t be able to stop it.
“He thought he saw someone in the woods,” Luke says, “the day he killed Donny.”
For a moment, my brain doesn’t even understand it. I hear the words but they don’t make sense. Not yet.
And then I’m hiding under the ghost gum’s shadow. A branch snaps in the distance, and my heart leaps into my throat. I press back harder against the trunk, hoping the shadow will swallow me whole, hoping the tree will hide me completely while my father murders a man.
It didn’t. Dad saw someone hiding in the woods.
I clench my fists, my knuckles paling from the pressure. I try to steady myself but I can’t. If Dad saw me in the woods, why didn’t he come after me?
Then, like a puzzle piece fitting into place, the realization floods through me.
I whirl around, facing Luke. The silence stretches, sharp and painful. “Who did he think he saw in the woods?”
I breathe in sharply, the ground beneath me shifting. Everything feels muffled and distant. I stare blankly at the circling fins, time slowing down to nothing.
“Your mum,” I hear Luke say, “He thought he saw your mum.”
My body shuts down and I retreat into stunned silence. My lips part, but no words come out.
“She was always running away,” he says. “Taking off to Pine Bay. The cops even brought her back a couple of times. He was paranoid as hell that she was going to say something to them about Donny.”
I stand there staring ahead, the weight of everything pressing in on me.
“It wasn’t Mum he saw in the woods,” I hear myself say. “It was me.”
A suffocating mass seems to collapse my chest with every breath. But my body doesn’t react. It freezes like it always does. My mind’s gone quiet, a dull hum repeating the words over and over again, He thought you were her. He thought you were her…and that’s why she’s dead.
Luke opens his mouth, his words slow and measured. “I’m sorry, Min. Truly.”
A flash of movement catches my eye. The water is disturbingly calm, pale moonlight reflecting off the waves, casting eerie underwater shadows.
But then…a dark shape slices through the water just beneath the surface.
The water ripples around the fin as it moves along the side of the boat, circling.
It happens quick. There’s a jarring thud against the side of the boat.
It tilts sharply, and I’m knocked off-balance.
I reach back for Luke, arms thrashing out, gripping his forearm to keep from falling.
They come in hard. And they come in angry.
Luke gazes at the water, his face lit with pure, wide-eyed excitement. A smile spreads over his mouth as he peers eagerly over the side of the boat, eyes sparkling like a child.
“Look at them!” he exclaims, transfixed. “Look at them!”
But I’m not looking at the sharks circling the boat.
I’m looking at the hold near the skipper’s chair.
In the cramped storage space beneath the hull, something’s moving.
I squint in surprise, angling my body, staring.
What is that? Past the coils of rope stiff with salt, and a cracked bucket, there’s something tucked away in the far corner.
It’s half buried under a folded tarp, and it’s moving.
Bang.
Another low echoing boom vibrates through the fiberglass, up through the deck. I feel it in the soles of my shoes, the base of my spine, and the whole boat seems to shudder. My eyes flick to the water, but I see nothing. No shape or shadow. But I feel them, waiting impatiently under the surface.
“They’re here,” Luke whispers, “and they’re pissed!”
A flicker of light catches the edge of my vision. My heart skips as I turn from the water and scan the dark space of the hold. There! Another glint of light. Sharp, sudden, and gone just as quickly as it came. I freeze, trying to find it again.
The world feels too still. Too silent. But the air feels tighter, charged.
And then I see it. Jutting out from beneath the tarp’s crumpled edge is a hand, limp and pale. And something else: a flicker, a flash of light, a watch, glinting in the moonlight. My breath catches.
Gold-plated.
Black.
Maserati.
Chris’s watch.
Yes, I know you went to see Rachel’s mum, Min.
The other car is still there, silent and grave as the air itself. It’s parked under a tea tree, the white bonnet covered in crescent-shaped leaves.
It’s an Audi. White.
And it’s missing four hubcaps.
The tarp shifts, and a low groaning sound rises from underneath. The hand twitches before going still, and the groan comes again, louder this time. “Chris!” I call out. “It’s me, it’s Minnow.”
Luke tears his gaze from the water and fixes them on the moving tarp. “You’re finally awake, ya weak sack of shit?”
“You followed me to Bethanga,” I hear myself saying, tearing at Luke’s forearm that holds me in place. “You followed Chris.”
There’s no hesitation. No remorse. Just a bubbling glee in Luke’s voice as he watches a sharp silhouette rise slowly above the water. “Terry told me to keep an eye on him. And you. We just wanted to scare you away from finding out the whole story, Min.”
The shark tooth on my doorstep.
“You’re either the shark or the food. I’m the shark,” Luke says, cheek grazing mine. “What do you think Chris is?”
I stand motionless, body trembling. The tarp shifts again, fabric rising slightly with another pained groan.
What do you think Chris is?
My friend.
A dorsal fin circles methodically, watching, waiting. I can’t move.
I don’t fight. I don’t flight. I just freeze, and yes, I hate myself for it.
I think of the last fight with Oliver where he was standing over me, screaming. And I just stood there, lips numb, and took it. Took everything.
The boat lurches sharply as a shark strikes again, sending a violent tremor through the boat. Move. Move.
But it’s Luke who moves. Luke who drags me across the hull, forearm at my throat as he rips the tarp off Chris.
He’s crumpled on the ground, eyes wide and distant.
His face is pale, streaked with blood and dirt, and his body’s twisted at an odd angle.
His bloodied hands curl weakly, reaching for nothing. Or maybe he’s reaching for me.
“Chris!”
His eyes flutter, straining to focus. I reach for him desperately, but Luke pivots, moving me bodily to the gunwale as he loops his free arm under Chris’s shoulders. With a strained grunt, he lifts him, and Chris’s head lolls against his chest.
Fins cut the water, one after another, steady and deliberate. Waiting for something or someone to be thrown in.
“Minnows. They’re not just little fish,” Luke pants. “They’re baitfish.”
A memory comes to me. Heath and I splashing about in the shallows, eyes on the minnows darting through the water. So quick, so quick. How many times did we snatch for them only to come up empty-handed?
I don’t fight. I don’t flight. I just freeze.
No. Not anymore.
You’ll have to catch me first.
I reel backward, smashing the back of my head into Luke’s nose. His hand drops from my throat, and the one holding Chris in place falls to his side with a smack.
Chris crumples to the floor with a grunt, and pain ricochets through my skull.
Quick!
Luke is half bent over, hand cupped to his mouth, hot blood spilling down his fingers. With a roar of anger, he flings the blood over the side of the boat, straight into the water.
A splash. They come in hard, and they come in…
God, I think, they’re waiting.
“Chris!” I scream. “Get up!”
Quick, quick, quick! Adrenaline swims through my body.
I reach down to my ankle, fingers closing around the knife handle.
With a roar, Luke charges forward, bloodied hands thrust out.
He throws himself against me, knocking me off-balance, and I collide hard with the helm.
My knee buckles, my cheek slamming into the wheel.
“Chris,” I yell, blood filling my mouth. “Chris!”
Weakly, Chris lifts his head, eyes dull and unfocused. His lips part, a shallow breath catching in his chest. Even the effort of raising his head seems to cost him everything. There’s a flicker of recognition as his eyes stare into mine. I keep calling, voice cracking. “Get up! Get up!”
Luke’s on me again, swearing, panting, hauling me to my feet, both hands cupping my underarms. He drags me back, grunting with effort.
I spin around, strike out, and slam the knife into his shoulder. He lets out a strangled yell and I wrench the knife out, raising it again, forcing all my body weight behind the next blow.
But before I can strike, it feels like an earthquake hits the boat. There’s a huge bang so loud, it rattles in my ears and teeth. I hear Chris call out in pain as I’m knocked off my feet. And then I’m just falling.
Desperately, I grip the knife as I fall backward, groaning in pain as I land hard on my elbows. For a moment, I’m stunned, lying on my back, staring up at the dark sky. And then, splashing all around me, spray hitting my hair, my face.
The sharks, I realize. They’re bumping the boat. Frantic and angry. My vision is murky, fading in and out. I can’t see Chris but I can hear Luke. Laughing.
I raise my head painfully, the back of my skull throbbing.
I blink hard. Luke is standing on the rear bench seat facing the water, wind ripping through his blond hair.
One hand is clamped tight on his shoulder.
The other hand pumps like he’s at a rave.
He yells into the night air, kicking the back of the hull in a frenzy.
“Get it, boys!” He releases the hand clamping his shoulder, and the blood pours out in an angry stream.
He flings the blood into the water, yelling down, “Come and get it!”
Bang. I grunt as the boat is knocked hard to the starboard side.
They’re gonna tip us over.
The boat rocks violently in the water, and waves of nausea roll through my stomach. I grab desperately for the rail, wrapping a fist around it, hauling myself up.
Luke smiles at me, teeth bloody, blood pouring down his neck, nose, and chin.
I wrench myself up, but it’s too late. With an angry roar, he surges forward, pulling Chris off his feet, dragging him across the deck.
There’s a struggle, brief and panicked. Chris swings his fists with the last of his strength, calls out something that’s lost in the roar.
I charge, racing across the deck, raising the knife over my right shoulder.
Then a shove. One push, and Chris is thrown over the side, arms flailing for something, anything. For one awful second, he hangs in the air, caught between the sky and sea. His eyes catch mine as he goes over, terrified, desperate, lost. Then the splash, sharp and final. And something else…
A scream, sharp and primal, cutting through the air as the sea explodes in a torrent of teeth and flesh.
Luke charges me, no words, no hesitation, just the pounding of his feet against the hull, muscles coiled, eyes locked on mine. Then, the impact. Bone against bone, shoulders smashing together. I’m slammed into the side rail, my jaw smashing into the metal.
Dazed, I look up, staring hard into the water as a black fin sinks below the surface taking Chris with it.
The moment seems to last forever. I stare at the empty space where he was moments before, heart pounding against my ribs.
None of it feels real. My body slackens in shock as the surface churns with violent energy.
It’s chaos overboard. Jaws snapping, teeth glinting.
They position themselves below you…then they strike.
Luke staggers to his feet near the skipper’s chair, blood dripping off his teeth. He charges a final time, blood streaming out like a tap running, the heat of his fury building with every step. And I charge back, running straight at him like I have nothing left to lose.
At the same moment, we both raise our hands.
I lash out, sinking the knife into his chest.
And he raises both palms and shoves me backward.
For a second, the entire world goes blinding white. I can’t see a thing. All I know is that I’m falling, falling, clawing at nothing. The wind shrieks through my ears, my hair, and the blinding white sharpens and sharpens until I feel like I’m fainting and falling at the same time.
My shoulders hit the water first, hard. The back of my skull a moment later. Then I’m under, sinking below the freezing surface, and despite the blinding white that enfolds me, all I feel is darkness.