"Dane?"
She felt completely unafraid in the cabin's yard. As Dane had told her yesterday, the island wasn't big enough to have any large predators, no bears or wild cats. She was delighted to see some birds flitting through the trees. When she padded closer, moving quietly as she nibbled on her improvised breakfast, she saw a handmade bird feeder with some sunflower seeds in it. A small brown-and-gray bird was hopping about on it, pecking at seeds. Mira watched in unmoving fascination until, at some unknown signal from its tiny bird brain, it fluttered off into the trees.
Mira tossed the last of her bread crumbs in the feeder for the birds, left her coffee cup on the porch, and considered the two directions of the paths from the yard. One way led up to the garden, the other down to the water. Then she recalled what Dane had said about diving to look at her wrecked boat.
"Oh, surely he wouldn't do it alone," she murmured.
At least it wasn't hard to find the way. She followed the path descending through the sunlit woods. Shadow striped the moss-covered ground under the trees, and the air was full of birdsong. A more idyllic morning could hardly be imagined.
The path ended on the stretch of bare gray rocks that Dane had taken her to the day before. She was even more confused now, because there was nothing but rolling waves on all sides of the rocks, and she could see nowhere that anyone could safely dive, let alone find a sunken boat.
"Dane?" she called.
Growing more alarmed, she made her way out to the rocky point of land at the very tip of the island. They were truly isolated. All she could see nearby were a few more small islands, but not nearly as big or as nice as this one; they were nothing more than bare rocks sticking up from the glittering gray-green sea. The Newfoundland coast couldn't be too far away, unless she had been blown terribly off course. But at the moment, she felt like a castaway on a remote island far from civilization.
At least it was a pretty, comfortable place, certainly no lonely desert island.
But there was no way to get help in case someone got into trouble.
Once again her mind returned to Dane's absolute isolation. No phone, no CB, no neighbors.
The lack of any sign of a boat dawned on her as well.
How did hegethere?she wondered.
Surely he couldn't be completely isolated with no way on or off the island, and no way to signal a ride when he needed one. There was living a hermit's lifestyle ... and then there wasthat. She couldn't imagine even someone who loved solitude agreeing to be voluntarily stranded on a rock in the middle of the ocean with no way to leave or even call for a fresh shipment of supplies.
Maybe he had a boat that washed away in the storm?
But if so, he hadn't seemed even slightly worried about it. As much as she liked Dane on a personal level, there were an increasing number of things about him that weren't quite adding up. Her brain promptly began providing absolutely batshit explanations.
He's on the run from the law and he scuttled his boat so he couldn't be caught.
He's a government spy and this is a top-secret listening station.
He's a governmentexperimentand he can breathe underwater.
She was just thinking how ridiculous she was getting when there was a splash, and Mira glimpsed a long, black and white shape gliding through the water.
Immediately all speculation fled, replaced by delight. It was an orca, and it was very close to the island. Mira went down to her knees and tried to be very still, as with the bird earlier, so she didn't scare it away. Several times she'd had curious dolphins come up and play around her boat, but the orcas, the great killer whales of the deep, were much shyer and less inclined to approach humans.
Up close, they were majestic. This one was longer than her lost boat, with the distinctive black top and white underbelly of its kind, and a white patch over each eye. It cruised slowly past her and then dipped below the surface of the water. Its tall, upright back fin vanished last, disappearing gradually like the periscope of a submarine.
Mira didn't think it had seen her. She held her breath, watching the slowly rolling waves where it had disappeared until she decided that it probably wasn't coming back.
Her vague, disjointed memories of the storm, and the killer whale that had saved her, came rushing back to her. Itcouldn'tbe a coincidence. As impossible as it seemed, there must be a tame orca in these waters. Maybe it had escaped from a zoo or marine park somewhere farther to the south and had swum north looking for others of its kind?
She was staring so intently at the water that when she caught a glimpse of something wavering and paler than the depths, coming up from the bottom, she leaned over until she was in danger of falling in.
However, what surfaced from the water was a sleek, dark, very human head.
Mira jerked back with a startled yelp.
Dane yelped, too, and ducked under the water almost instinctively. Then he splashed immediately to the surface again.
"What are you—are younakedunder there?" Mira cried. She had assumed that if he did go diving here, he must be wearing a wetsuit. The water was far too cold to safely swim in.
"Yes," Dane said. "Here."
