Luke calls out again, but his voice is still too far away. I’m lightheaded and desperately thirsty, confusion giving way to panic as I start to understand the facts: I’m on theReel Easy. My muscles ache. My arms feel like they’re made of wet sand. I try to move, to sit up, but I can’t.
His callused hand cups the side of my face. “Wake up, Min.”
“Jessie,” I croak out. “Where’s Jess?”
His grip loosens a fraction. “Tied her up in your garage. She’s fine. For now.”
I wrench my shoulder, yelling, trying desperately to get to my feet.
He climbs into the skipper’s seat, reverses the boat, makes a sharp right turn. Luke guns the motor, and the boat powers over the waves, freezing spray splattering over the bow and hitting me full in the face. I gasp, shaking my head as the salt water stings my eyes, drips down my cheeks. The wind thunders through my ears as Luke guns the engine.
When we were kids, Heath and I used to take turns lying on the trampoline while the other bounced as high as they could. It sent your body flying in the air for a few moments. Sometimes the force would send you ricocheting off the trampoline, over the hot metal prongs before landing hard on the ground.
This is worse. We speed over a wave, and my entire body lifts off the floor. I’m completely weightless, flying. Then a moment later, we drop so low and so fast that my body falls like a rock, slamming down so hard it makes my teeth rattle. I groan in pain, my shoulder aching, teeth feeling like they’re about to shatter.
The engine roars faster, the bow bouncing higher and higher, slapping the waves, spray flying everywhere. My body tumbles back, rolling over and over as we crest a huge wave. I can’t even throw my arms out to stop myself as my head hits the back of the stern with a sickening crack. Black spots fill my vision. I’m dazed, the roar of the engine silenced by the screaming pain in my head.
We climb higher, higher, my back pushed against the stern of the boat, like someone’s holding me down. I can’t move. Can’t get free. We reach the wave crest. I brace for my impact as the boat lifts into the air, taking my body with it. My stomach drops. For a moment, I’m terrified I’ll fly off the edge, over the side, plunging into the water. I shut my eyes, clench my jaw. We plunge back down, my ribs taking the full impact of the fall. I groan in pain, breathing low and shallow because it hurts so much to breathe.
I keep my head down, eyes closed as we soar through the water. My head throbs, my ribs burn with pain.
And still the engine roars, taking us farther and farther out to the dark water.
—
I shut my eyes andmouth as more icy salt water comes pouring in, funneling down the back of my jumper and the waistband of my jeans, pooling in my socks until I’m soaked to the skin. Salt water burns my eyes, leaving them itchy and stinging and flooding with tears.
I feel like I’m lying face down in a bathtub, unable to move as the water fills and fills.
I turn my cheek, jaw clenched, eyes burning. The wind softens from an angry shriek to a soft cry. The water is calmer now, the boat cruising over the waves. The engine slows. I look up. Luke’s hand hangs loosely from the throttle, his back to me as he scans the water.
Get to your feet,I command myself, heart thumping fast. I roll painfully onto my side, digging my elbows into the floor, trying to heave myself to a standing position.Quiet,I tell myself urgently.Quiet.I grit my teeth as the pain roars through my ribs, and I blinkrapidly to clear the salt water from my eyes. I curl my knee back, fingertips reaching for the back of my calf.
Where my knife is tucked under my jeans.
Always take a knife.
I silently thank my father as the boat comes to a stop. Luke hovers above me. My skin prickles. I know Luke. I’ve known him all my life. I’ve sat beside him on the lounge room floor, just me, Heath, and him, playing endless games of Uno.
But then I see him in the cabin, butchering kangaroo, blood splatter hitting his chest. He keeps chopping, unconcerned. Blood boys turn into blood men…
He’s leaning over the rail, eyes alight. “You should see them, Min. They come in hard, and they come inangry.
“They’re mindful predators, sharks,” he continues, before adding, “Usually anyway. But when they smell the blood”—he licks his lips—“they eat the legs first, sometimes the head.”
“Like Rachel Sutherland.”
He snorts. “Heath warned her over and bloody over again to stop poaching in our area. Bitch wouldn’t listen.” He spits over the side. “Your brother’s too soft on people, Min. Always has been.”
“The night she was attacked…”
He shrugs, but he can’t stop grinning. “She was free diving for abalone near the pier again. I gave her a nice little scare.”
“You were chumming. You brought the sharks right to her.”
He tilts his head, eyes gleaming as if remembering. “Hell of a show.”
You didn’t enjoy the show?
