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Ezra and I didn’t bring any weapons along, so an old-fashioned drowning will have to do. Instead of removing the regulator from his mouth, I swim behind him and cut the oxygen at its source. The effect is almost immediate.
His legs begin to shift and strain, and he struggles so frantically against the binding around his wrists that the skin begins to slough away in white strips. The nearby fish make quick work of the snacks on offer, and I feel like a princess in some twisted underwater fairytale.
I swim to his front again. Despite the lack of air, the Cattle holds the regulator firmly between his teeth. His jaw clenches, and his cheeks cave inward with each desperate yearning for a breath that won’t come. A dark cloud fogs the water around his crotch, and I realize he’s shit himself.
With a flick of our fins, Ezra and I move down the line, pulling regulators as we go. When we turn and face our creation, I have to stifle a laugh. The wiggling bodies look like participants in an underwater rave. The bubbles pouring from the gaping mouths catch bits of light, and the fish moving around them flicker with shades of pink, silver, and orange.
There are still a few more Cattle further down, but we leave those for Ice Pick. He seems to be having a grand time with hismachete as another head drops to the ocean floor in a cloud of red.
Ezra grabs something from the sand, then motions for me to follow him. As we swim, the water brightens as the seabed rises a few feet and a reef comes into view.
Coral, seaweed, and colorful fish spread in front of us. The water shifts from a murky blue to a bright azure, and it’s as if I’ve been transported into another place entirely. Then Ezra shows me what he grabbed from the killing field. It’s the arm he chopped away.
Ezra wiggles the arm toward the fish, and I understand what he means for me to do. I only feel bad that he can’t feed them as well. Then again, I guess he does this sort of thing every year.
As I take the arm from him, his cheeks lift into a smile. He’s so excited to share this little moment with me. His hand moves up my arm, and he shows me how to wiggle the stump at the limb’s fleshy end to entice the fish closer. Bits of blood and tissue disperse into the water, and the fish turn toward us.
We’re surrounded, lost in a swirl of flashing colors. I recognize none of the species, but they’re each unique and beautiful. In their own little groups, they dart forward and snag bits of flesh before zipping in another direction. Goosebumps rise on my skin, and I tear up. This is truly a magical moment.
A shadow moves over us, dark and threatening, and I look toward the surface. I expect to see a shark looming overhead, but what I discover is so much worse.
Mere feet above my diving mask, Grim’s wrinkly cock cuts a path through the waves. Beside him, her hand gripped firmly in his, swims a naked Maudlin Rose. Her pale nipples cling to the ends of her sagging breasts and do their best to stay attached as they wave in the current. Instead of scuba gear, they’ve chosen to wear only snorkeling masks and flippers.
They look down at us and wave with their free hands. Ezra and I return the greeting, though I look away as Grim’s balls bob into view. I’ve opened myself up to getting closer to others, but this is a little too close.
The magic moment ruined, I motion to Ezra that I’d like to surface. He gives the signal, and we begin to rise. I make a point to keep my eyes averted from the pair of butts floating by on my left.
Ezra pulls the regulator from his mouth. “Are you ready to head back to the boat?”
I nod and do the same. “Yeah, Grim’s dangling doodle kind of killed the mood.”
“Understood,” he says with a laugh.
We swim back to the boat, and hauling myself out of the water takes the last of my strength. I didn’t realize how many muscle groups I use to swim, and I’m sure to be sore tomorrow.
Ezra leads me below deck once more, and we hang up the gear and change into our clothes.
“When we first entered the water, I thought a shark had gotten you,” I say as we leave the small room. “There was all this blood, and I couldn’t find you.”
He grips my hand at the bottom of the stairs and turns me so that I’m facing him. “I didn’t mean to worry you, pet. I thought you were right behind me. But just out of curiosity, what would you have done had that been the case?”
“I guess I would have been fighting a shark.”
“Buzzing,” he says before kissing me. “I’m absolutely buzzing, pet. My tough little American is willing to take on a shark to save her man.”
A blush blooms on my cheeks as he makes me feel like a teenager in love. It’s not a familiar feeling, but I refuse to be confused by the butterflies and fireworks. I’m just going to embrace this moment and hope he feels the same.
We ascend the stairs and sit on the upper deck. In the distance—thankfully too far off for me to make out any details—Grim and Rose continue floating on the surface. Red clouds occasionally stream upward, which means Ice Pick is still busy below them.
For this moment, it’s just the two of us.
Difficult questions crowd my mouth, but my lips are a steel trap. I’m too nervous to ask him what we are or what we could be. As much as I want the truth, sometimes the truth hurts.
“You’re cute when you’re lost in thought. Did you know that?” he says. He leans closer and brushes my hair over my shoulder. “You do this cute little thing with your mouth where you push it to one side and chew your inner cheek.”
I hadn’t even realized I was doing it, but I stop now that it’s been pointed out.
“What’s on your mind?” he asks.
