Page 31 of Oceansong
Their hour out was uneventful, and Angie killed the engine twice at two spots where Elise and Abigail could fish. In the first hour, they hadn’t caught more than a handful of pacific cod and two halibuts. Another hour passed, and they had filled a small fishing net.
“You two okay back there?” She stayed close to the steering wheel and scanned their surroundings, making sure all was well before starting the boat up again.
“Yeah. It’s a little quiet for me, but it’s alright.” Abigail hooked fresh bait on her fishing pole and dropped it into the water.
“Think we have time for one more?” Abigail was eyeing their small catch.
Angie checked the time. “We have another hour before we should start heading back. We can stay if you ladies are alright with it.”
Elise gave her an “OK” sign with her thumb and index finger.
To Angie’s surprise, the next hour yielded another small net full of fish, and she pushed the throttle into gear and spun the wheel, steering them back to the docks.
A wave hit the side of the boat.
Then another.
“What’s going on?” Abigail held one hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Is there a storm coming?”
“It’s supposed to be clear today,” Elise murmured.
“Then how come the waters are so choppy?” Abigail directed her question at Elise. Then her voice softened. “It can’t be the mer, can it? Zixin said they’ve never been seen out here–”
“Must be a rough patch. I’ll get us out.” Angie hit the toggle button on the dash to trim the boat, trying in vain to quash her fears that mer had discovered them. Luckily, she faced away from the women so they wouldn’t see her hands shake. “Hang on. Making a sharp turn.”
She hit the throttle, boat churning toward the calm waters on their right. The choppy waters followed, and then Elise raised her voice.
“Mer spotted!” She grabbed a lance from the pile at the back of the boat. Angie’s grips and forearms tensed. Mer with opaque, teal, and stormy gray tails darted in and out of view underneath the boat.
Behind her, Elise leaned over the side of the boat, aiming her lance at the water, gaze and arms tracking them. A quick rearing back of her arm and carefully placed aim later, she struck the lance downward, and Angie winced, imagining it impaling a mer’s body. Another look back revealed her and Abigail pulling a dead merman aboard, Elise’s spear through his neck.
“They’re surrounding us!” Abigail’s voice heightened in pitch and cadence, scrambling to the marine radio at the boat’s stern. “Angie! We have to go!”
The sea’s agitation swelled as the winds spun to tropical storm-like speeds. Choppy waves broke at the wind’s crest, smacking against the side of the boat like watery fists pounding on a door that would not open. Angie struggled for a deep enough breath, her head growing light with her hyperventilation.
Focus! Get us out safe.
The boat shifted to its starboard side, and Angie reduced the speed, turning the boat into the wind at a forty-five-degree angle, a desperate bid to maintain control. Her heartbeats raced quick and shallow like the waves assaulting them, her hands breaking into a cold sweat as she struggled to steer away from more oncoming waves.
Behind her, Abigail yelled for help into the radio, words coming out in sputters.
She sucked in a frantic breath when a funnel of water rose like a sea creature emerging from the depths. Angie’s skin shivered and crawled. The howling winds tore against her face and made her eyes water and burn. The water funnel’s apex crashed down, knocking the boat over with a violent slam and throwing the three of them into the unforgiving waves.
“Abigail! Elise!” Angie shrieked, punching down the raging waters to keep her head afloat. She was a strong swimmer, but she was no match for the relentless waves threatening to pull her under. Faint screams came fromthe other side of the boat, and she paddled toward them.
“El—” Saltwater rushing into her throat cut her off, and she coughed, her throat burning. She forced herself to paddle and to kick her feet in a furious freestyle, shoulders fatiguing and calves cramping under her exertion. Their screams were gone, cut off midway. Raw panic sunk in. Another mighty wave rose, muffling her cries and pulling her into its raging undertow.
She dashed for the surface only to be yanked down again by two arms wrapping around her legs, pulling her deeper, deeper. Angie flailed and kicked in desperation, but the hold was too tight, making her a statue sinking to the bottom of the ocean.
A tailfin struck her across the cheek, and then another. A thick, strong tail swept past her, wrapping itself around her waist like a serpentine corset, squeezing her stomach in tandem with an arm around her neck, tightening over her jugular.
Stupid her. In her excitement and rush to get on the boat, she forgot to grab her gun and diving knife out of her locker.
Then the hold loosened, and through her blurred vision, a combustion of colors came into view. Mer tails. She couldn’t tell how many. Their tails blended together, a paint palette whose colors had conglomerated.
Something wrapped her underneath her shoulders, and she was being sped away. Her lungs were about to burst, her head spun and made the world around her a dizzying kaleidoscope.
A miracle happened, and her head burst through the surface. She swallowed air as though she were starving and oxygen was her first meal in months. Exhausted, Angie shut her eyes. She didn’t care where she was, but she was alive and could breathe.
