The Island(47)

It was here, on a slip of a beach on an island off the coast of Australia.

What the hell was up with that?

She saw Olivia coming around the bend in the bay as if someone was chasing her. Oh, shit, this really was— Caught between—

But Olivia had an expression of grim satisfaction.

Something was—

Olivia reached them, breathless.

“What?”

“Around the next corner, there’s a line of rocks just offshore, about fifteen yards offshore. We can wade or swim out there and hide and let them get past us,” Olivia said, panting.

Mouth almost too dry to speak, Heather nodded.

Petra nodded too. They would have to move fast. Ivan and the kids were coming up the beach.

“Owen, we’re going to be OK,” Heather said. “Just a little bit farther.”

With renewed vigor, Petra and Heather carried Owen through the mangroves and around the bend. And, yes, just off the coast, there was indeed a line of rocks.

“How will we do this?” Petra asked.

Heather tried to answer but she couldn’t form words. It had to be over a hundred degrees away from the shade of the mangrove trees. They’d be exposed to the full glare of the sun out there on the rocks, but what choice did they have?

She swallowed a few times to get saliva in her mouth. “You go with Olivia. I’ll swim Owen out. Just help me get him into the surf.”

Petra nodded and they manhandled Owen down to the water.

“Go,” Heather said. Petra and Olivia began swimming out to the rocks. Heather flipped Owen onto his back.

“Just relax, Owen. It’s gonna be OK,” Heather whispered into his ear. She crooked one arm around his neck, and, keeping his head raised, she swam into the bay.

The water was cold, but swimming with Owen was easier than she’d expected. She swam on her side, kicking with both her legs and pulling back hard with her right arm. In ten brisk strokes she reached the rocks, big black jagged boulders sticking out of the water.

She swam behind them.

“There’s a little ledge on this rock here, see if you can put him on that,” Olivia said from somewhere.

The ledge was only the size of a bookshelf and it sloped downward at thirty degrees, but the sea had worn it smooth and between the three of them, they managed to get Owen onto it. His eyelids were fluttering and there were white flecks on his lips. Where he wasn’t sunburned, he was pale and his skin was cold to the touch.

Heatstroke, exhaustion, dehydration…

He needed water and food and rest and shade very soon or he was going to die. The rest of them would be dead soon after.

Heather checked his pulse. It felt weak.

“There,” Petra whispered.

Three people were coming around the bend of the beach—Ivan and the teenage boy and the little girl. As they got closer, their conversation drifted across the water.

“Nah, mate, St. Kilda have no chance, they have no depth,” Ivan was saying. “Now, you look at the Bulldogs, that’s a team that’s going places. That’s a team that can get through the ups and downs of a season. You wait and see.”

“What are they talking about?” Olivia whispered.

“I don’t know. The important thing is they’re not talking about us. Their attention has wandered. That’s good,” Heather whispered.

Something nudged her leg.

She peered down into the water but couldn’t see anything.

Dolphins?

No, not dolphins. She knew that for a fact.

Something happened when there was an orca in the water off Goose Island. Some change in the vibe. You could feel the danger through your skin.

She floated there, moving as little as possible.

She tried to see, but the water here was deep and opaque.

Ten feet to her right, a fin rose out of the water for a moment and then slipped beneath the surface again. That was no dolphin. It was an immature blue shark. It was only about four feet long, and blue sharks mostly fed on squid, but they could give you a nasty bite whatever age they were. It was circling to her right.

She wasn’t sure if it had noticed them or not. One way to make a shark notice you was to start thrashing about and panicking.

She looked back at the shore.

Ivan and the children were almost parallel with them.

“I don’t want to go to school,” the boy said.

“It’s up to you, mate,” Ivan said. “Ma can’t force you to go. At least, I don’t think she can. But it’s school, it’s not jail, mate. I did it and I’m OK. Bunch of poofs, but I reckon you can handle yourself. And Geelong isn’t a million miles away.”

“You went to the same school as me dad, Uncle Ivan?” the little girl asked.

“I did, Niamh. Three years. Geelong Grammar. Like I say, they were all a bunch of bloody wankers, but I got used to it.”

“When Uncle Matty gets the drone working, can I fly it?” the boy asked.

“That’s a big if. Matt’s had that thing out of the box twice since he got it!”

Olivia was breathing hard. Owen’s breathing was shallow. Petra was holding her breath.

The blue shark was over to her right.

It abruptly changed direction and headed lazily toward her.

Shit.

They were all bleeding. That’s what had got its attention.