rock ledge, further out than the quig. In a few seconds I would pass by the monster and unless it was deaf and blind, I would get its attention. I could only hope that between now and then Uncle Press would nail it with the speargun. But he would have to shoot fast because I was almost at the quig.
Then two things happened. When I flew by the quig, it heard me coming and it made a sudden, surprised turn to see me. It was a small turn, but enough to let something else happen that made me want to scream. I saw the glint of a spear come shooting out from under the rock ledge — and miss its mark. The missile sliced through the water just over the quig’s head. Uncle Press assured me that he wouldn’t miss, but he hadn’t figured that I’d be flying by like an idiot to distract his prey.
The quig had dodged eternity, and now the prey was me.
I was traveling on my back now. My arm felt like it was going to rip out of the socket, that’s how powerful the pull from the water sled was. But when I looked back, I realized the pain in my shoulder was the least of my problems. The quig was after me. As fast as this sled was pulling me, the quig was faster.
It took only a few seconds for the huge beast to swim right up beside me. We were traveling at the same speed with ten yards between us. I can’t begin to tell you how helpless and vulnerable I felt. I knew that soon this bad boy would turn into me and clamp its jaws on my midsection. I saw its yellow eye staring at me. There was no emotion there, just calculation. It was measuring the perfect moment to turn and strike. This was going to be a bad way to die. I’m not exactly sure if there’s agoodway to die, but if so, this isn’t it.
The quig didn’t come any closer. It didn’t need to. When it struck, it would need a little bit of distance to get a good run at me. In fact, it started to pull a little bit ahead. It made a few quick little head turns toward me, as if judging the exact right distance and speed for its attack. This was torture. I was at the point that I wanted to get it over with.
Finally it struck.
The shark opened its jaws and made a sharp turn toward me. I gritted my teeth, waiting for the pain.
But then I saw a flash of light just over the shark’s head. Was it a flash of light? No, it was another spear! I thought for an instant that Uncle Press had reloaded, but that was impossible. There was no way he could have reloaded and got up above fast enough to be shooting from that angle. No, the spear had come from someone else.
Whoever the archer was, he was good. The spear flew directly down at the shark and struck it on top of the head, burrowing into its skull. The instant the spear found its mark the quig started to thrash. It was still headed toward me though, and as it spun I got slammed in the ribs by its tail. Yeow. It hurt, too. Bad. But I didn’t care. It didn’t hurt like its teeth would have.
The quig continued thrashing and sank down beneath me. A moment later it crashed into the reef. The sled kept pulling me away, but I looked back and saw that the monster was writhing uncontrollably. It was a horrifying sight. This fish was history. It wasn’t going to eat me or anybody else.
I was saved from the quig, but I was still traveling out of control. I wondered how long this little engine would go before burning out. Now my arm was starting to hurt bad. Not to mention my ribs, which had taken a healthy whack of shark tail. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could take this.
Then something caught my eye. It was a gray shape moving up alongside me. Uh-oh. Was there another quig? I spun around to get a better look and saw that it wasn’t a quig at all. It was a guy being pulled by another water sled. But it wasn’t Uncle Press. This guy wore black pants with a black top that had no sleeves. Through the clear air globe on his head I saw that his hair was kind of long and black. He had an empty speargun strapped to his leg, which meant he was probably the shooter who saved my life. I had no idea who this guy was, but I liked him already.
He knew how to handle a water sled, too. He eased over close to me until we were traveling side by side. He held on to his sled with one hand and let go with the other to reach back to his leg. What was he doing? He brought his hand forward again and I saw that he was now holding a very large, very nasty-looking silver knife. For a second I freaked. Was he going to stab me? But that didn’t make sense. He wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of killing the quig just to kill me himself. At least I didn’t think so.
He reached forward with the knife and with one quick move he lashed out at me. Not knowing what he was doing, I closed my eyes. But what he did with that one strong swipe was cut the vine that attached me to the runaway water sled. The pull on my arm stopped instantly. The force of the water slowed me down. I looked ahead to see the runaway water sled continue forward on its crazed trip to nowhere. Good riddance!
I was dazed and hurt. I tried to move my legs to get some sort of control, but I was floundering. That’s when I felt something grab the back of my shirt. It was the guy in black. He had come around and was now right next to me.
Without a word he grabbed the back of my collar and began towing me to the surface. I totally relaxed. Whoever this guy was, he was in charge now and I didn’t care. All I could think about was breathing fresh air again.
The trip to the surface took about twenty seconds. The closer we got, the brighter the water became. I couldn’t wait to get on top. Then just before we surfaced, the guy in black let go of my collar and let me float up on my own.
It was a great feeling. My head broke the surface and the BC belt kept me floating. That was a good thing because I didn’t think I could tread water just then. I yanked the air globe off my head and took a deep breath of fresh air. The sun was warm, the air smelled sweet, and I was alive.
“Friend of Press’s, are you?” came a voice from behind me.
I spun around to see the guy in black floating next to me. He had taken off his air globe and I now saw that he was a little older than me, and had a slight Asian look with almond-shaped eyes. He had deep, sun-colored skin and long black hair. He also had the biggest, friendliest smile I thought I’d ever seen in my life.
“Told me he was bringing somebody to visit,” the guy said cheerfully. “Sorry ‘bout the rude welcome. Them sharks can stir up a real natty-do sometimes. Easy enough to handle ‘em though. Just gotta know the soft spots,” he said, tapping his head.
“Who are you?” was all I could think of saying.
“Name’s Spader. Vo Spader. Pleased to meet you.”
“I’m Bobby Pendragon. You saved my life.” I wasn’t sure what else to add but, “Thanks.”
“No big stuff. It happens. Never saw anyone caught up by a sled like that though. No sir, that was a real tum-tigger.”
“Took us a might off course though,” he added, looking around.
I looked around too and what I saw made my heart start to race again. Because what I saw was… nothing. Oh, there was plenty of water all right. But that was it. We were in the middle of the ocean with no landmass in sight.
If a tum-tigger was bad, this was definitely a tum-tigger. (CONTINUED)
CLORAL
Talk about feeling helpless. Here we were, two guys floating like corks in an endless ocean. A quick three- sixty scan showed no land, no boat, and no rescue of any kind in sight.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” asked Spader.
Beautiful day? We were lost at sea and he was talking about nice weather? Either he was in strong denial, or he was crazy. Either way, he was starting to make me nervous.
That’s when I felt a tug on my foot.
I screamed. The quig was back. Or he had a brother. Or he hadtwobrothers. And they were both after me and they…
The water to my right began to boil and an instant later a bubble-covered head surfaced. It was Uncle Press. He yanked off his air globe and smiled at me.
“Have a nice trip, Bobby?” he asked. “That wasn’t exactly plan B.”
“You think Itriedto get dragged like that?” I shot back, all indignant.
“Whoa. Relax. I was kidding.”
