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12
SHARK
Taylor
How could I have been so stupid?
I was afraid to pop the question, but I had to know. It killed me to keep wondering what would happen to us, what his plan was for us.
Now I knew the answer.
There is no us.
Miles didn’t have to spell it out for me. His hesitation alone told me exactly what I needed to know. I got it, and I wanted to get as far away from him as possible. I dived into the water and immediately started swimming away from the boat, and away from the relative safety of the sandbar. I knew there was no way I could swim all the way to the shore. I was a good swimmer, but I wasn’t that good. But I didn’t care.
Drowning seemed like a perfectly acceptable release from the pain in my chest.
I felt the temperature change from warm to cold as soon as I crossed over from the sandbar and into the deep, dark ocean water, but I didn’t pause. I kept going, lengthening the distance between myself and the boat.
And Miles.
It wasn’t until I heard a splash that I stopped swimming. Treading the choppy waves, I looked around me, remembering Miles’ comment earlier about hearing a similar splash when were paddling.
I couldn’t see anything and didn’t hear any more splashes, so I started swimming again, hoping it was a turtle or some of the small flying fish I had seen from time to time while kayaking.
It’s just a turtle,I repeated to myself. Just a turtle.
To be safe, I limited the splashes I was making, knowing how sharks were attracted to them. I had gone another fifty yards or so when a perfectly shaped dorsal fin popped out of the water about twenty feet in front of me, causing my blood to run cold.
Oh, shit.
Out of nowhere the words of the old fortune teller came back to me:
Beware of the shark!
I stopped all movement and watched the fin move to my left, the panic in me threatening to take over. The instinct to bolt and swim as fast as I could was strong, and it took an incredible amount of willpower for me to not listen to it, knowing there was no way I could out swim the silent predator.
Maybe it’s not after me,I thought. My surfer friends had encountered sharks dozens of times. Most of the time they were pretty harmless, unless you happen to get unlucky and come across a tiger or great white.
Then you’re fucked.
The fin continued cutting through the water, moving in a fairly large circle around me, but the fact that it was circling was definitely not a good sign.
You’re so stupid, Taylor! What were you thinking?!
I looked back in the direction of the sandbar, hoping someone there was witnessing what was going on, but they were too far. Even if I screamed I would never be heard above the music blasting from Kimo’s speakers. Then I saw it in the distance - a flash of orange in the water, moving toward me.
The kayak!
“Miles!” I shouted, waving my hand. “Miles, help!”
“Hang on, babe!” Miles called.
He was getting near and paddling like a madman, but the shark had tightened its circle, and I had the sinking feeling he wasn’t going to reach me in time.
My worst fear came true. The shark stopped its circling and started moving straight toward me.
Shit, here it comes.
