Unseen Messages(89)

“I’ve earned it.”

I waded deeper. The density of the water fought the floatable properties of my walking stick.

Don’t need it in the water anyway.

Twisting, I tossed the support up the beach and out of the wave’s grip.

“Ready?”

Conner smiled. “Ready.”

“Let’s see if we can get you a cooler nickname than Aqua Boy.” The sun bounced off the surface, blinding me. Every day, I mourned the loss of my glasses. I was sick to bloody death of straining to see and living with a permanent haze. Would I ever see Estelle in high definition again? Would I ever be able to look into her eyes and see hazel swirls and not a mist of muddy colour?

That’s besides the point.

She’d never let me get close enough. She wanted me but for some reason turned me away. I wasn’t going to keep begging.

Limping through the warm water, I said, “Keep your eyes open for anything on the bottom. That’ll be easier to catch than fish at this point.”

“Good because I suck at catching fish.”

“You don’t suck.”

“Do too.” His jaw clenched. “But I’m gonna become great. Every day, I want to catch a fish for each of us. Four fish a day. Watch me. It will happen.”

I sucked in a breath as the water crossed my waistline, reaching for my chest. “I have no doubt.”

“Strange that I want them so bad when I don’t even like fish.”

My eyes widened. “You don’t?”

He pulled a face. “Hell, no. They’re gross.”

I chuckled. “Believe me, if you never get off this island, you’ll start to like fish.”

Conner froze at the reference of never being free but stuck out his tongue and played along. “No, I won’t.”

“Believe me, you will when there’s nothing else to eat.”

“You found clams, and they aren’t too bad.”

“Yes, but we have to vary our diet; otherwise, things like scurvy happen.”

Conner ducked under the water to wet his hair. “Scurvy? Is that like the bleeding gum thing pirates used to get?”

I laughed. “Where did you learn that?”

“Playing Assassin’s Creed.”

“Of course, you did.” I kept moving. “And to answer your question, you get scurvy from lack of vitamin C.”

“Well, sorry to say I don’t see any oranges growing around here.”

“Vitamin C comes from many places, but you’re right, that’s one source.” Out the corner of my eye, I spotted a flash below the surface. Lunging forward, I snatched Conner’s spear and stabbed it into the sand.

An awful squelch and crunch of something living ricocheted up my arm. “Got dinner.”

Conner shoved his face underwater (as if he could see without goggles). Spluttering, he said, “What? What is it?”

Whatever it was wriggled and fought. “Not sure.” I couldn’t make it out through the rippling ocean and my shoddy eyesight failed me once again. Whatever I’d harpooned wasn’t happy about it.

Sand swirled from the depths.

Conner squeaked, lifting his feet off the bottom. “It’s fighting pretty good.”

My arms bunched as the spear shifted to the left, moved by whatever I'd stabbed.

“If I pull up, it will escape.” I frowned. “We need to get it to the surface somehow.”

“What do you want me to do?”

I ran through the scenarios. We couldn’t use our hands—just in case it was venomous. And we had nothing else. Inspiration struck. “Run back to the camp and grab the piece of metal we use as a spade.”

Conner didn’t need telling twice. He swam off in a breaststroke, beaching himself and tearing up the sand.

I stood there, fighting with the creature below, waiting for him to return.

He didn’t waste time. Bolting back with a smaller piece of fuselage, he dived into the water and popped up beside me. “Here you go.”

“Use the metal and go down there and wedge it beneath it.”

“What? Hell, no. I’m not doing that.”

I laughed. “Just testing your manliness.” If he’d agreed, I would’ve forbid it. What sort of father figure would I be if I made him fight with an unknown sea monster? “The look on your face means you’ll forever be known as Aqua Boy.”

“You suck.” Shoving the metal at me, he wrapped his hands around the spear. “New deal. I’ll hold it while you go down.”

“Good plan.” I let him take control.

The moment I let go, his face shot white. “Damn, it’s struggling hard.”

“Don’t let it escape.” I brushed hair away from my face, preparing to dive under. “Stay leaning on it. Got it?”

He nodded.

Taking a deep breath, I shot beneath the surface, blinking in briny water. I couldn’t see crap, but something blurred and wriggled like a demon on the seafloor. Doing my best to fight buoyancy and swim with a splinted leg, I stabbed the sharp tip into the creature, trying to put it out of its misery before wedging the metal into the sand beneath it.

Is it dead?

Something slimy wrapped around my wrist.

Shit, not dead.