The Shark Rider (26 page)

Tristan then realized what he was going to do, or at least try to do, and got ready.

“Okay, watch closely.” Hugh dove to the bottom of the pool. He then whipped off his swimsuit and flattened himself against the pool's white concrete base. Seconds later, Hugh simply disappeared.

“What the—!” Marsh exclaimed.

As Marsh, Rickerton, the other man, the guards, and even Ryder and Rosina ran to the side of the pool to look for Hugh, Tristan grabbed Sam's hand. “Now!”

They swallowed the pills and sprinted to the larger pool. Without stopping, they dove in and swam hard. Tristan prayed the pills would work quickly and that he was right about the square opening at the far end of the pool. They headed straight for it. Tristan let Sam enter first and then followed. It was just as he hoped; the entrance to a tunnel. The smooth-walled passageway swung right in a wide, sweeping turn. They kicked hard, racing to get away from Marsh and his goons.

By the time the dart-wielding security guards got to the tunnel entrance, Tristan and Sam were gone. The two muscle-bloated men stood helpless with a look of complete disbelief on their faces.

Hugh was only able to mimic the color and texture of the pool bottom for about thirty seconds. After that, he put his swimming shorts back on and popped to the surface. He raised his very normal hands to the men staring down at him. “Sorry, guess it didn't work.”

Marsh scowled and ran to a poolside cottage, nearly tripping over his pajama pants. He opened the door, stepped inside, and came out holding some sort of computer tablet.

“You imbecile, those other two are getting away!” Rickerton shouted. “Get them!”

“No worries,” Marsh responded calmly.

As Rosina helped Hugh out of the pool, Marsh tapped on the tablet screen. Two of the pool gates began to rise noisily.

Marsh tapped a few more times on the tablet and then ordered one of the security guards to radio the speedboat drivers. “Tell them to recover whatever's left after the sharks are through.” Then he turned to Hugh, Rosina, and Ryder. “I don't really need all of you, anyway.” He eyed Hugh. “That was a very interesting trick, something else we'll need to discuss.”

“This changes the deal,” Rickerton barked at Marsh. “We'll just make an adjustment in the investment required.”

The drizzle turned back to rain, and the men headed for the protection of the carts.

“Come along, kids,” Marsh said. “Let's go have a little chat with your
professor
—Dr. Gladfell.”

The security guards ushered the teens into a cart, staying even closer than before. As they drove back to the main facility, Rosina and Ryder stared at Hugh. He returned their gaze with an uncharacteristically mischievous and self-satisfied grin.

Inside the tunnel it was dim, and there was just a thin layer of air near the top. Tristan and Sam made it through the wide turn, popped up, and twisted their necks to get a breath. Just then, the sound of some-
thing mechanical reverberated through the water, like metal gears grinding. Tristan and Sam looked at one another, clearly thinking the same thing about the source of the noise. They dove, kicking their now-webbed feet even harder. They entered a long straightaway. Up ahead, it looked a little brighter. Tristan couldn't resist. He paused and glanced back. Then wished he hadn't. Something big and dark was in the tunnel, and it was swimming toward them, fast. He put on a burst of speed, swimming up to Sam and waving for her to go faster. Minutes later, they shot out of the tunnel into open blue water and made for the surface. He looked back. A camera-carrying bull shark was just exiting the tunnel. And it wasn't alone.

Tristan and Sam porpoised once for air and dove. They swam as fast as they could. Tristan looked for a place to hide, knowing they couldn't outswim the sharks. There were just a few scattered corals, some small rocks, and a big patch of sea grass. Making it a big zero for spots to hide from the we-want-to-eat-you sharks. As scared, angry, and freaked out as he was, Tristan tried to concentrate as he swam. He repeatedly told the sharks that they were the good guys. He glanced back and again wished he hadn't. Coming straight for him was a giant mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. Tristan squeezed his eyes shut, thinking this was not the way “shark boy” should bite it.

He felt a rush of water at his toes and then waited for the searing pain that was sure to follow. Instead, Tristan heard a heavy thud. He stopped swimming and
looked back. Toes—he still had toes. A flash of gray raced by. It was a dolphin. Then he saw another. Two dolphins were racing around and head-butting the sharks. Bolting for the surface, Tristan and Sam nearly ran headfirst into a gigantic black manta ray. Behind it were more rays. There were at least twenty manta and eagle rays swimming like a flock of giant underwater birds. They began to circle protectively around the teens.

Tristan heard the manta.
Hey, chap, stick with us. We've bloody well had enough of these blokes
.

“Tell the dolphins to hit the cameras,” Tristan suggested to Sam. “Maybe they can break them off or something. That's what's controlling the sharks. I'll tell the rays to help by distracting them.”

Sam communicated with the dolphins. One then hit the camera atop one of the sharks. It didn't move. The other dolphin charged in and hit the camera harder. Meanwhile, half of the manta and eagle rays swarmed around the other shark to keep it busy. The dolphins hit the camera again, and this time it slipped to the side. Soon the camera came loose, but it remained attached by wires embedded in the shark's back. The shark abruptly stopped swimming. It shook its head and its cloudy eyes cleared.

The dolphins then worked on the other shark's camera. It, too, came loose. Once free of Marsh's electroshock mind control, the sharks hung motionless in a daze. Tristan explained where they were and what had happened. If they could have turned red with anger,
they would have been the first-ever scarlet-colored sharks. With blood seeping out from around the wires on their backs, the two bull sharks swam off, swearing to get even.

“Do you think they'll be okay?” Sam asked Tristan.

“Hope so. C'mon, let's get out of here.”

The sound of an engine firing up echoed across the water.

“The dolphins say to follow them,” Sam said.

“Rays say the same thing.”

Led by the dolphins and surrounded by rays, the two teens swam away from Scar Island as fast as they could.

22

NEW ARRIVALS

T
RISTAN AND
S
AM WERE LED SOUTH INTO THE
deeper water between Scar and Eustatia Islands. They stayed submerged as much as possible. When they did go to the surface, it was just a brief sea turtle head bob for air. At one point, Tristan paused to look back. Two speedboats were slowly motoring in a widening search pattern off Scar Island. One boat seemed to be headed in their direction.

Sam came up beside him. “C'mon let's keep going.”

Tristan nodded, and the two of them rejoined their sea creature escorts. He waited until they were on the other side of Eustatia to again turn back. So far, neither of the speedboats had followed them around the island. The Bitter End Yacht Club wasn't too far away, but they had a new problem. Another boat was motoring
slowly past Saba Rock toward them. Tristan could see the outlines of two people inside the small boat's covered cabin.

“Do you think it's more of Marsh's ape goons?” Sam whispered nervously.

“Different kind of boat, but could be. Let's swim around it just in case.”

Right before diving down to go under and around the boat, Sam stopped. “Hang on.” She stared at the boat as it slowly came closer. Minutes later, she began waving her arms. “It's Coach!”

The boat sped to the teens. Coach cut the engine. At the stern, someone climbed out to help Sam and Tristan onto a small dive platform. It was Mary, the owner of the Bitter End.

“Get in and stay down in case anyone is watching,” Coach Fred ordered.

Mary handed them each a towel, staring at their hands and feet. “Oh my.”

Coach did a U-turn and punched the throttle. Several rays and two dolphins jumped high out of the water. Tristan hadn't even had a chance to thank them for their help. Both Sam and Tristan began talking at once.

Coach Fred held up his hands. “Okay, okay. One at a time.”

Tristan let Sam explain.

“Coach, that Marsh guy we saw last night, he's a total nutjob. We escaped, but he's still got the others. He's the one causing the fish kills, and he's torturing sharks.
And
he knows about the webs, and . . .”

Coach put up a hand to interrupt. “Okay, slow down and tell me exactly what happened starting from when you left the ship this morning.”

After the two teens explained, Tristan wanted to immediately go back to Scar Island to get Hugh and the others. But Coach convinced him they needed a plan. He also told the teens about the unexpectedly large hole that had mysteriously appeared in the
Reef Runner's
hull. Captain Hank was furious. He made Charlie and Sarah bail while he and Coach built a temporary patch. Meanwhile, reports about the developing storm started coming in, and the teens were overdue from their swim. A search boat was sent out from the Bitter End. Coach also called Flash at camp to get the group's location based on the tracker bracelets. While he was on his cell phone, a frigatebird dropped a note, which strangely smelled like vanilla, right on top of Coach Fred's head. After that, the captain basically threw Coach off at the Bitter End and took the
Reef Runner
to an anchorage where they could make a more permanent repair and potentially ride out the developing storm. The captain told Coach and the others he didn't want anything more to do with them or the trouble that followed them around.

When the boat arrived back at the Bitter End, the group went quickly and quietly to Mary's home on the hill behind the office building.

Coach was grim. “My fault, guys. I should have pulled you out sooner.”

“No way, Coach,” Tristan told him. “We wanted to stay.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “And now we have to get Hugh and the others out of there.”

“And stop psycho pajama man from killing more animals,” Tristan added.

“Don't worry. Director Davis is flying in with some senior campers and we're going to launch a rescue mission.”