“That’s it,” I say as best I can with a knife between my teeth. “That’s it, nice and calm. This is gonna hurt, but you’ll be fine. I’ll make this right and turn you loose, okay? But first, I’ve got to get that harpoon out of your back.”

  Another fin appears out of the corner of my eye. I snap my head around, but it’s gone. Crap. I’m certain it is bigger than the salmon sharks. A lot bigger. And there’s only one species bigger than salmon sharks out here.

  Great whites.

  “Shit,” I whisper, and for a split second, consider cutting the whale free, leaving the harpoon in. The sharks will go after him instead of me. I’ll likely get out of this without a scratch, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I got myself and this Kimko into this. Now, I’ve got to get us out.

  The whale makes another mournful sound and sprays me with water as it takes another breath. I marvel at its sheer size, clearly bigger than most orcas, and clearly the biggest living thing I’ve ever laid hands on. Time to get to work. I wrap the rope once around my hand to try to keep it from slipping and pray the whale doesn’t take off as soon as I begin cutting.

  Hands on the smooth, wet, cold hide of the massive orca, I work my way to the harpoon hanging limp. Ugh, the wound is ghastly in the morning light. Swollen, torn, raw flesh surrounds the projectile. What a shitty thing to do to another creature. And I did it. With glee, in fact.

  I take hold of the knife, gripping it with the blade sticking out from the bottom of my fist, and stab down to one side of the wound. The knife goes in easier than expected. Kimko flinches and makes another of his mournful, forlorn cries. The sound threatens to tear my heart from my chest. I can feel the vibration of it through the whale’s skin. I pull free the knife and plunge it down into the opposite side of the shaft. Another groan of pain, this one louder, and I almost drop the knife. Blood runs freely. I do the same to the areas above and below the harpoon, effectively cutting a chunk out of the whale.

  I can’t force myself to cut it again, so there’s only one thing left to do.

  Taking the harpoon’s handle in both hands, I pull with all my strength. The world tips sideways. I stumble, reach for something to break my fall, and land hard in the boat. I haven’t stabbed myself, but I did whack my head again. I’m dazed and seeing double. But I have it. The harpoon came out. It’s in my hands, along with a bloody chunk of whale fat.

  Kimko is free.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The world swirls from darkness to reality like someone slowly removing a soundproof bucket from my head.

  My vision is blurry, and my head hurts all over like someone set off a big firecracker in my skull—maybe two. Blinking my eyes a couple of times helps clear my vision. Luckily, it’s only rainwater, and not blood from a head wound. I must’ve passed out, but I’m still not sure what’s going on. A groan escapes me as I try to raise myself, only to smack my forehead on something hard enough to hurt. It’s the bottom of a seat.

  It all comes back at once: the whale, Julien, the harpoon, the regret. I’m out in the ocean, far from land. It’s still raining, and the boat is filling with water. I pulled the harpoon free, which meant the whale could do something about the sharks. Or get the hell out of here if it has enough strength. Probably doesn’t.

  Then again... sweet mother of god, that creature had been as big as a barn, though I know that’s not true. Standing up in the fishing boat next to it, I’d felt as if I’d docked next to an alien spacecraft. My point being... he’s big and might be able to still take care of himself. I guess we’ll see. For all I know, he’s long gone, and I wouldn’t blame him one bit. If so, I’m alone with sharks, most bigger than my boat.

  I scoot out from under the seat and check the back of my head. There’s no blood, thank God, but it hurts like hell. Might have a concussion. The world isn’t spinning much, though I can feel my heart beating in my head. My ears are ringing, too. That can’t be good.

  Neither is getting eaten alive by sharks.

  Speaking of which... something bumps my boat hard enough to knock me off balance. I wave my arms wildly, then grab hold of one of the bench seats. Whatever it was, it wasn’t the whale. I know this because I can see Kimko about a hundred yards off. Not sure why the sight of him fills me with relief. Maybe it’s because he’s alive, still. Or hasn’t abandoned me.

  Then again... there’s a lot of splashing over there. Ah, hell. Looks like he’s fighting. The water veritably roils. Something gray flashes, teeth bared. Kimko’s mouth opens wide as he bites down at something else gray. At least two sharks, though too far away to tell what kind. Either salmon or great white. Both look surprisingly similar, just different sizes.

  I can’t tell if there’s blood in the water, and I have no idea who’s winning, but I hope it’s the orca. I need him to win. I need to know I didn’t doom him to being eaten alive by sharks. A second later, he disappears beneath the surface, and my heart fills with sorrow. Hope keeps me looking, and I hold my breath, waiting to see if he recovers.

  Something bumps my boat, not quite as hard as before. I see the triangular dorsal, on the smaller side. It’s a salmon shark. Suddenly, it dashes off. Uh oh, something spooked it.

  I look for Kimko, daring to stand, bracing my feet to either side to keep my balance in case something else curious and hungry comes sniffing around.

  It’s coming on morning, and the sky is gray with hellish-looking clouds. I scan the water that still churns with the disappearance of the killer whale. Curiously, the sharks Kimko had been fighting with are gone too. Was the killer whale even now being torn to shreds, one massive bite at a time. Ugh.

  “C’mon, big guy,” I say, risking standing a little taller, though my feet are still braced for a surprise impact.

  A surge of water to my left, thirty feet from where the orca had disappeared—and closer to my boat. A massive black and white head emerges, along with something gray, too. I half fear that’s all there is left of the killer—just his head—but as the water pours free, I see what’s happening. A great white shark is in Kimko’s jaws. Though the shark is nearly as big as him, the orca launches it into the air like it’s nothing more than an inflatable pool toy. I try to cheer, but it comes out as more of a broken gasp. I do manage to thrust both fists in the air in victory, though.

  The wave from the impact slams into the boat, splashing some water inside. I begin to bail—not really paying attention to how efficient I’m being. The fight is intense, and I’m still rooting for the creature I was trying to kill only hours before. Kimko needs to survive to make this right.

  I eject handfuls upon handfuls of water from the boat and wonder if any of it is drinkable. After all, a lot of it is from the pouring rain. Hmm. If there’s only a little salt, maybe. The next handful, I quickly pour into my mouth. It’s salty, but only a little—like dirty Gatorade. It’ll be fine.

  A fin appears—one of the salmon sharks. The fish looks like it’s creeping up on where Kimko dunked the great white. Maybe it’s going to snack on the loser. When it turns toward the boat, I change my mind. It’s looking for any kind of snack, which includes me.

  The shark vanishes. Five seconds later, an explosion of seawater showers the boat with foamy water and blood. Incredibly, a salmon shark lands near my boat. Make that a half a salmon shark. Clearly, it had been bitten in two. Was it the same that had just stalked me seconds earlier? Crazy. Had Kimko killed it, or a bigger great white?

  Speaking of which, his black elongated dorsal fin slashes through the water, first behind a great white shark, then parallel with it before both disappear below the surface.

  Uh oh. Something is going to die.

  I raise myself to a kneeling position to try to find them, but the water is too murky, reflecting the gray above as well. I can probably find them if I lean over the edge, but no way that’s going to happen. Not with that many sharks in the water... and one pissed off orca.

  A half minute later, something gray flashes under the boat, followed by something black and white... and much bigger. They dive again. Kimko’s gonna need air soon, but I trust he knows what he’s doing.

  My boat slams to one side near the bow, spinning the vessel a hundred and eighty degrees. I scream despite myself. A second later, one of them hits it again, near the stern, tipping it nearly sideways, and I’m back to facing the same direction.

  Two great whites circles the boat. There might be a salmon shark or two deeper down. What I would give for a functioning rifle and a pocket full of ammunition right now. I could take out these fuckers. They wouldn’t even know what hit them.

  Kimko breeches, whipping his body sharply to the left before the water explodes into boiling foam again. He’s engaged with another great white, perhaps the biggest I’ve ever seen, in person or on film. Sweet Jesus. The foam quickly turns bright red. Something just got bit, and I can’t tell which one of the combatants it is.

  So much for Kimko weakening, or being too tired to fight back. Was it all an act to get me to release him? If so, bravo. Damn smart whale.

  A great white surfaces, damn near rocketing out of the water. Kimko is on his ass, but the shark doesn’t look like it doesn’t want anymore of the orca. In fact, all I see is the shark’s ugly dorsal fin cutting through the water like a torpedo.

  Something strikes from below, lifting the boat a few feet out of the water, and sending me hurling through the air. The cold water, like fiery ice, stuns as I splash down... and sink. I paddle clumsily toward what I hope is up—it is. I break the surface a second or two later. When I gasp for air, my mouth fills up with water. I panic as I try to clear it.

  Where’s the boat? Where, where?

  There it is—not too far away. Ten feet? Twenty? I can’t tell for sure.

  One thing I do recognize... the three or four triangular dorsal fins swimming between me and my boat. Massive dorsal fins.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The shark fins disappear as I tread water.

  Bloody foam floats across the surface, and I’m pretty sure I got some of it in my mouth. Further away, I see the thrashing of a vertical tailfin of another shark, then Kimko’s enormous mouth. He chomps down, but it looks like he’s only earned a mouthful of water. Both creatures disappear.

  It looks like the action is going on below the surface. I’m the only dope treading water. Meanwhile, my boat drifts further and further away. I do the only thing I can, and begin swimming toward it, aware that at any minute something is going to appear from below and grab me. It’s going to be painful and shitty, but in a weird way, I accept it.

  I’ve been in the freezing cold water long enough for it to seep in and start slowing my mind. I’m feeling stupid, lazy, and unnaturally calm. It feels like the rain is coming down even harder, but it’s hard to tell. After all, I’m catching the droplets going both ways when they splash into the ocean.

  Both legs seize, cramping. For a second or two I think it’s a shark having caught hold, but it’s not. At least, not this time. Still, panic grips me.

  I’m going to drown!

  I claw the water frantically, briefly slip under the waves, haul myself up, gasping, doing what I can to keep my face above the surface. Water pours into my mouth, up my nose. Legs are worthless, I use a breast stroke motion and raise my head out of the water long enough to suck in air. Crackling, searing pain courses through my legs. The pain is about to get a lot worse if a shark bites down on them. I need to get to my boat.

  My legs feel like sandbags I’m trying to drag around in the water. My brain is telling them to move, but they’re so cold, so laced with agony, I can’t tell if it’s working. At least I can see my arms. They’re doing what I’m telling them to do—more or less.

  I aim for the boat—and cry out when something brushes against my hip. Flailing is exactly the wrong thing to do, except I can’t help it. Panic overwhelms me. It’s what struggling prey does when it’s trying to escape. I might’ve just turned myself into an even bigger target.

  The boat is even further away now. I could be wrong, but whatever touched me might have bumped my boat too. Luckily, the cramp is releasing its grip on me. With some use of my legs available to me, I start swimming in the direction of my little skiff. Hard to imagine the very thing that sat next to my house all these years could be the very thing to save me.

  Could being the operative word here.

  I’m all too aware that several two-ton sharks are swimming below me, ready to pounce, ready, in the least to sever an arm or leg.

  Bracing myself for the worst, I continue to swim toward the boat—only to be bumped by something huge. I know it’s huge because it spins me around. Water is driven into my mouth, up my nose, pressing against my eyes. I cough uncontrollably, knowing something is probably about to eat me, but can’t do anything about it.

  But it doesn’t happen yet. Not yet, not yet.

  The boat is even further away now. Still alive, can still swim. Go, go, go!

  Hand over hand. One, two. One, two. I repeat these words in my head over and over like a mantra. One hand in front of the other. One, two. One, two. I’m getting exhausted, and I’m sure as hell not going to stop swimming. Still, the cold feels like it’s sapping the life from me.

  Not dead yet. Not dead yet.

  One, two. One, two.

  Go, go, go!

  Twenty—maybe twenty-five feet away. I can make this. Left arm, right arm, left arm.

  But I stop. I have to stop.

  There’s something in the water between me and the boat. It’s a shark’s dorsal fin, and it splits the water like a knife, coming toward me.

  Faster and faster.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I’m going to be eaten. And it’s going to hurt a lot. Then again, my body’s so numb, maybe I won’t feel a thing. Either way, it’s gonna suck.

  My wife—she’ll never know what happened. Not for sure, anyway. At best, someone will find my boat. It’s registered, but thanks to Kimko’s steady pace, I could be a quarter of the way to Hawaii by now. He had turned south at some point, after all. So, it’s likely the boat will sink before anyone comes across it. My wife might spend the rest of her life watching the front door, looking for me in crowded places, and hoping. It would be worse than finding my remains—no closure or peace. I know the feeling. It’s how I’ve felt for the last year. I’m sure my wife feels the same... except, we never talked about it.

  If anything, the shark swims faster, and I’m toast.

  I brace, ready to at least punch the bastard in the snout before my head gets bitten off, but instead of attacking, the shark turns away in a quick, jerking motion. Then its fin disappears beneath the surface of the water.

  I’m stunned. Why didn’t it attack? It’s not like there’s a lot I could do about it—especially against an enormous creature like that. I’m not exactly threatening, and there’s no way the colossal predator thinks I’m dangerous. Maybe it wants to swim around me a bit so it can pick the morsel it wants to taste first.

  There’s still one thing I can do... I can keep swimming to my boat, and I do that now, even faster now that I have full use of my legs.

  Maybe it won’t chomp me after all. There must be tons of other fish around—plenty of things to eat besides one middle-aged, gamy human with high cholesterol. I probably taste like old coffee grounds, stale beer, and donuts.

  “Then get your ass moving,” I grunt softly to myself. “Don’t give up. Not after everything.”

  Body following mind, setting my eyes firmly on my boat, I keep swimming as hard as I can. It’s hard for me to tell, but it doesn’t feel like my limbs are working in unison. I have no idea what my legs are doing—if they’re being helpful or just flailing around like jeans on a clothesline. I’m trying, but my brain isn’t transmitting all the way to my toes. Or, if it is, my toes aren’t transmitting back. My heart feels like it’s flailing violently against my ribs as it struggles to keep up with what I’m demanding of it.

  But I’ve got to keep going. Got to keep swimming—hand over hand.

  One, two, one, two, one, two.

  Something brushes against my leg and my skeleton damn near jumps out of my flesh. Was I just bit? The lower half of my body is so numb, I could be missing one or both legs and not even know it. Hell, I could be bleeding to death into the water and not even know it.

  The boat bucks like an enraged bronco trying to throw its rider. I suspect something struck it from underneath—maybe the same thing that brushed against me. Even though I didn’t see what it was, I know it’s one of the sharks. It probably bumped the boat to see if it could eat it. It’s probably trying to figure out which of us is edible.

  The shark... my pending death... it’s karma. I spent so long hating Kimko, and then damn near killing him, I deserve what’s coming my way. That’s what Julien would’ve said, had he still been alive to say it. He was into that kind of thing, probably where I got it from. Except, of course, Kimko isn’t dead, no thanks to me. He is alive and fighting like a cornered hellcat. I allow the thought to vanish as I focus on my breathing and swimming.

  Hand over hand, left, right, left, right. Kick my feet—if I still have feet.

  Go, go, go!

  Something brushes up against me again, but this time it slides all the way from my right foot up against my groin. Something literally just hit me in the nuts. I kick it away, as hard as I can, and I am pretty sure I just kicked a shark in the snout. Instantly, my stomach cramps and breathing becomes difficult. Yeah, I felt that one for damn sure.

  I only have moments left. They’re ready to attack. I’m surprised I’m even alive. Any second now, there’s going to be a feeding frenzy, and there ain’t a damn thing I can do about it. There’s probably not enough time to get to the boat, but still I swim toward it, ready for the next bump to be, in fact, a bite.