Page 4 of Rainse
But my words sounded weak even to me. Hope was fading with every passing minute.
Had Hugo made it to the Minerva? Or was he lost in the vast emptiness of the Atlantic Ocean? For a moment, I could hear one of the songs we'd sung along to earlier, Yellow Submarine by the Beatles. Everything had been okay then. We'd had no idea that less than an hour later, we'd be in the water, fighting to survive.
I started humming the tune. It was a broken, tired attempt, but it gave me something to focus on.
"...mmhm-mmh-mmh-mmh-mhmm..."
Jammie joined in. I looked at him, saw the determination in his eyes and steeled my own will to survive. We could do this. We wouldn't give up.
And that is when I saw the shark's fin cut through the waves. A grey triangle that triggered every single primitive instinct to run, scream, hide. Jammie hadn't seen it yet.
There was nowhere to run. We were sitting ducks.
I squeezed Jammie's hand to get his attention. "Don't move. Don't splash. No sudden moves. There's a shark."
To his credit, he didn't react besides tightening his grip around my fingers. "Hit him... nose?"
"That's what I've heard."
I'd never planned to encounter a shark outside a shark cage.
A shadow passed beneath me. A second shark? It had looked like a smaller shape, but it was gone before I could get a closer look. Not that I wanted a closer look. I wanted to be far away from here, on a safe, dry bit of land.
"Whatever happens..."
I didn't get to finish my sentence.
The fin disappeared, then reappeared a heartbeat later, slicing the water between Jammie and me. The sheer grace of it made my breath catch. Sharks were beautiful — I’d always thought so — but beauty didn’t help when you were about to be their dinner.
It circled once. Twice. Close enough for me to see the darker blur of its body below the surface, moving with effortless precision. My heart hammered. The animal was maybe three metres long, smaller than a great white but larger than a mako. A blue shark, perhaps. Common in these waters. Curious, not immediately aggressive.
Please stay curious.
The tip of its tail broke the surface for a moment, glittering in the sun like polished steel. Then it vanished again.
Jammie whispered, “Still there?”
“Yes.” My throat ached with dryness. “It’s just looking.”
He made a strangled noise. “Looking for lunch.”
“Not if we stay calm.”
It was ridiculous, trying to reason with both him and the sea. I was a scientist, but science didn’t comfort me now. Logic couldn’t fight teeth. My whole body was trembling, half from cold, half from terror. I tried to focus on the small things: the feel of the current brushing past my legs, the steady up-and-down of the swells, the rhythm of our breathing. If I focused on those, maybe I could pretend this was just another dive, another field study.
The shark came closer. Close enough that I saw the ripple of its gills, the subtle roll of one dark, intelligent eye. It was studying us. Assessing. Wondering whether we'd taste good.
I braced myself. “If it comes near?—”
The water exploded beside me.
For one wild instant I thought the shark had struck, but what breached the surface wasn’t grey — it was green, shimmering like polished jade. Something — someone — rose from the depths in a surge of power and foam.
Jammie screamed.
I didn’t. I couldn’t. The sight had robbed me of sound, of thought.
The creature moved with impossible grace. One moment he was beneath the surface, the next he was there between us, chest heaving, water streaming off a body that looked human, but also didn't.
