Burned (6 page)

Bethany quickly got into her swimsuit and rubbed sunblock on her face and back. Then grabbing a towel from the drying rack, she bolted to the dining room.

Her mom and dad were still there, finishing up breakfast.

“We decided to let the youngsters take the first boat out,” her dad laughed, then winked at her mom. Cheri cocked her head to one side and said, “We?”

“Okay, by the time
I
get there, Tim and Noah will be too worn out to make me look bad.”

Bethany quickly wolfed down some fruit and yogurt, and then headed for the door.

“You don't have to rush,” her mom called after her. “The second run doesn't leave for another twenty minutes!”

But Bethany was already heading for her fale to check on her surfboard.

There was a large dark spot in the center of the nose patch job. Upon closer inspection, the dark spot turned out to be a huge cockroach, stuck to the resin.

“Gross!” Bethany said out loud.

She got a small stick and began to pry the cockroach off the sticky trap.

“That wasn't there last night,” Tagiilima's voice came from somewhere behind her. Bethany looked up from her work and saw the Samoan standing a short distance away with a troubled look on his face.

Bethany smiled at him. “It's no big deal — look, I almost have it off! Thank you so much for fixing my board.”

Tagiilima drew closer to study the board and then nodded, apparently satisfied that the bug hadn't wrecked his handiwork.

“The boy say it would be good as new,” he said with a shy smile.

“Boy?”

“Yes. American boy help me carry back to fale,” Tagiilima said. Bethany's eyes grew wide as she suddenly realized who the Samoan was talking about. That cockroach stuck to her board was no accident.

Tagiilima appeared to come to the same realization as a grim look flashed across his face.

Fifteen minutes later, Bethany and her parents were at the dock, loading their gear into the boat. Pod was giving them the latest surf report straight from the scene. The swell had come up; the waves were pushing ten feet in height but the tide was a little low. Everyone had to be very careful on the takeoff or there would be some serious reef to deal with.

Bethany pushed the troubling thoughts of Liam to the back of her mind, allowing the wind and the spray of the ocean to revive her as she looked forward to joining Malia for a day of surfing.

five

Out at the break, Malia had joined the Hamilton brothers and Hank, Del, and Liam in the lineup. With the surf increasing in size and intensity, the nature of the session had turned from fun to heavy.

The waves on previous days, while powerful enough to break a board or give a good thumping wipeout, were by and large still in the playful category. Today the waves were challenging and potentially dangerous.

All of the surfers were being far more selective about the waves they chose. And being the youngest of the pack, Malia and Liam were getting fewer waves than the more experienced older surfers.

Malia didn't mind one bit. She stuck close to Tim and Noah; their constant encouragement helping to keep her fears at bay.

Liam, on the other hand, played the lone wolf. Truth was, he was frustrated — by his performance more than anything else. He aspired to be a big-wave surfer. In fact, he had often boasted of his big-wave skill. But now, in waves that would be rare at his California surf spot, he found himself hesitating and even freaking a little as he studied the hard-hitting ocean swells. He found himself cautiously selecting waves, making sure they didn't look as if they would close out all at once.

It is one thing to shred and carve a small manageable wave; it is another thing to try the same stunts in a cave of roaring water that can smack you into unconsciousness.

Liam kept out of the way of the main peak —the place where surfers launch themselves into the wave — and instead, drifted toward the shoulder where the drop would be less critical and punishing. When he glanced around for Malia, he saw that Malia had put herself squarely in the peak zone with Noah, Tim, Hank, and Del. The determined look on her face told him she was psyching herself to take off on the next set of waves.

It humiliated Liam to see her sitting there, but his fear kept him right where he was.

Pod guided the boat carefully around the protruding reef heads and into the deep water. “Wow!” Pod said, “The swell is really picking up. It's even bigger than when I dropped off the crew earlier.”

The boat lifted high on the incoming swells and dropped with a lurch.

“Whoa!” Bethany's dad said with a laugh as the boat slapped the bottom of the wave.

Bethany, riding on the bow, stared in awe as the surf spot that yesterday had been like a day at the carnival now heaved and hurled with deadly power.

The boat stopped and everyone started preparing their gear — everyone except Bethany's mom. Cheri was no longer a fan of the mean, rough-and-tumble waves that she saw.

Pod scrambled to find a second anchor and heaved it overboard.

Bethany stood on the bow for a moment and then tossed her board into the water, following after it headfirst. Paddling toward the break, she saw the dark hint of an oncoming set of waves on the horizon.

The surfers in the lineup saw it too, and they scrambled out to sea.

The massive waves were coming at them in perfect rhythm, one after another. Noah went first, dropping down the huge wall of water and then pulling off the bottom, putting himself high on the wave for maximum speed.

Those still paddling out hooted in approval.

Del and Hank caught the next two, both men charging down the double overhead face and blasting toward the channel.

Liam held out on the sets. But then he saw a wave that he knew he could catch from his perch on the shoulder. He spotted a small, lithe figure paddling hard in the peak of the wave.

It was Malia.

Why Liam did it, he was never sure. Maybe it was because he was frustrated that he wasn't catching waves, maybe it was because he was scared that an even bigger bomber would be marching in behind these waves to clean him up. Maybe his ego couldn't stand the thought of a mere girl taking off at the peak while he hung out on the shoulder.

All these things may have rolled through his mind as he paddled for the wave that Malia was now starting to catch.

As Malia dropped down the face of the monster, the water began to drain off the reef, getting sucked back up the wave. A huge growling sound of wind, wave, and exploding water surrounded her. She set her stance hard and raced out in the flat water before turning hard up the face.

Suddenly she saw, farther down the wave, Liam taking his last paddle. He looked directly at her as she pulled off the bottom of the wave and cranked the board up the face where she could get the speed to race down the wave before it collapsed on her.

Liam, with impassive eyes, took in Malia's critical situation for a moment, and then stood to his feet and dropped into the wave.

“Nooo!” Malia cried out — too late.

Liam had made up his mind. He would take this wave.

It was the ultimate burn.

Malia knew that Liam's move into the wave would cause it to break prematurely, increasing the chance of her being picked off by the incredible power of these waves.

She also knew that she had no other choice but to try to outrun the lip of the wave and catch up with Liam.

As Malia pulled up high on the face of the wave she saw that the track of Liam's board was causing the whole section of wave in front of her to collapse.

What happened next took only seconds, but for Malia it was like a slow-motion train wreck.

Crouching low, hoping to slip under the lip, Malia drove hard, but she was too late. The thick upper portion of the wave drove into the light girl like a jackhammer, slamming her off of her board and pitching her into momentary weightlessness.

Before she impacted the water, she saw the terrifying sight of water draining off the reef. She knew she would have little, if any, cushion of water to land on.

Liam had not only burned her. He had doomed her.

She buried her head in her arms and tried to flatten her body so as not to pile drive into the shallow water. Somewhere behind her, in a mass of white and green turbulence, her board followed.

Malia slammed into the shallow water followed within microseconds by the whole force of the wave.

Hands held tightly over her head, she felt herself bump and roll over the reef in an uncontrollable cartwheel.

Bethany, paddling out, saw the whole thing.

She saw Malia drop into the critical wave. She saw Liam knowingly stare at her friend and then drop in on her.

She saw Malia make a valiant but hopeless run at the closing out section.

She saw the water drain off the razor sharp reef right at the impact point. And she saw the brutal wipeout.

Her stomach turned.

The impact knocked the wind out of Malia. Thoughts ripped through her mind; she was a rag doll in the mouth of a big dog wave — shaken, twisted, and turned.

The white-hot sensation of pain came suddenly to her knee as it collided with a coral head, and Malia finally opened her eyes.

Around her was darkness, but above her was light. She struggled toward it.

Bethany quickly paddled toward the inside of the break, where she knew the wave would hurl Malia.

Mercifully, the wave her friend caught was the last of the set. A short lull followed. Otherwise Malia may have been held under again and again as each wave expended its energy on her. Bethany spotted two pieces of surfboard on the surface of the water. She knew that one of them would have Malia attached to the other end. She began to paddle frantically as she spotted Malia bob to the surface.

A tint of red blood rose up around them as she edged her board closer to the spot where Malia was struggling to keep her head above water.

Just then Cheri paddled up next to Bethany. “Let me do it.”

It made sense for Cheri to be the one to snatch Malia; she had the long board and the use of both arms.

“Go get her, Mom,” Bethany said.

Cheri eased her board next to Malia and scooped her up in front of her.

As weak as she was, Malia helped Cheri to paddle out of the danger zone.

Bethany stroked alongside Malia, remembering that when she found herself hurt after the shark attack, their friend Alana paddled beside her as she was towed to safety.

On Malia's arms and legs Bethany could see tracks of blood trickling down from unseen wounds. The thought of sharks came to mind. But she forced the idea out of her head and paddled hard toward the boat.

Pod had already moved the boat in closer to the rescue, knowing the other surfers would catch up. He quickly helped get Malia aboard, and Bethany held her hand as Cheri began to check out Malia from head to toe. Malia winced and moaned; she had numerous gashes and razorlike slices all over her body. Behind some of those gashes, bruises were already forming. On her right knee, a steady stream of blood poured down her leg.

Bethany didn't need to see the expression on her mom's face to know the wound was serious. The coral had sliced through the flesh and gone all the way to the bone, clipping several small veins. There was a nasty three-inch gash alongside her kneecap.

“We've got to take her to the hospital!” said Cheri.

Pod gave a brief nod, seeing the extent of her injuries.

One by one the other surfers climbed aboard the boat, each one stumbling with the boat's pitching as they tried to see what was going on.

“Oh no! The little charger got hurt!” Hank exclaimed.

“Yikes! Oww!” Tim said, wincing when he saw how cut up Malia was. Then he added, “We'll get you patched up. Don't worry, girl.”

“What happened?” Bethany's dad asked as he climbed aboard.

“Bad wipeout,” was all Bethany's mom said. Bethany remained quiet as she helped her mom wrap the bleeding knee in a towel. Then she looked up to see Liam climbing aboard.

He slinked past them to the opposite end of the boat without saying a word.

Pod gunned the boat and raced toward the camp.

At the dock, Noah and Tom picked up Malia and carried her to the dining room. Clint came out of the office with a huge first-aid kit and proceeded to pour hydrogen peroxide on every cut. The liquid bubbled as it hit each open wound.

“Staph infection is the worry around here,” he said to no one in particular. “The cut could be minor, but if it gets infected you have a real nightmare on your hands.”

The whole camp, except for Liam, who had slinked off to his fale, gathered around Malia as Clint went to work.

Using butterfly bandages, Clint closed the slice on Malia's knee. “This one is gonna need stitches.” He cleaned off Malia's foot; a few little black dots circled her heel where she had clipped a needlelike sea urchin.

“The only real hospital is in Apia,” Clint explained as he closed up the kit. “It's called the Tupua Tamasese Meaole Hospital. We should take her there for stitches and to get her checked out. Tagiilima knows where it is. He's got the van ready to go.”

“I'll go with her,” Bethany's mom and dad said at the same time.

“Me too,” Bethany said and then folded her arms when she saw her parents' hesitation. “She's
my
friend.”

“Okay,” Cheri said. “Hurry and get some clothes on — get some for Malia too.”

Bethany ran to the fale, hurriedly changed clothes, and grabbed some fresh clothes for Malia. By the time she got back to the dining room, Malia was already in the van.

“How ya doing?” she asked softly as she slid in next to her friend.

“I hurt all over,” Malia said, a slight tear, her first, appearing in the corner of her eye.

“I saw what happened,” Bethany said, leaning in close. “That creep Liam burned you!”

“I know,” Malia said. “He looked right at me and then dropped in.” After a pause, she said, “I don't know why he did that; he knew how shallow it was. It was as if he was trying to hurt me.”