The Shark Rider (29 page)

In the dark inflatable, Coach Fred and Mia motored slowly in the opposite direction, toward the western tip of Scar Island. They were now well to the left of the brightly lit docks. But the night's darkness, combined with the intermittent rain and blasting wind, made it hard to see anything past the bow of the boat. They stared at the shore, straining to find the passage that led into the cavern beneath Marsh's mansion. Mia leaned out over the boat's rubber sides, peering ahead. Three large fins unexpectedly rose up right in front of her. She jumped back, startled. Coach put the engine into neutral. Tristan and Sam surfaced and grabbed onto the side of the inflatable.

“Welcome back, Snappers,” Coach whispered. “Luis just reported in. The suite is empty.”

“They're probably in the lab,” Sam said.

“Campers, we need to get inside to see if they're there.”

“Uh, Coach,” Tristan said.

“Yes, Hunt?”

“I think they're going to know the shark got out.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“Not exactly.”

“Better hurry, then. Marten, can you tell where the entrance is by echolocating and lead—”

“The sharks,” Tristan interrupted. “They say they know where it is and can take us there.”

“Roger that. Chen, in the water you go. Be careful
and stay out of sight. If you don't find the entrance or don't see the others, come back. But hurry. The director says the storm is moving closer . . . and strengthening.”

Tristan felt a surge of adrenaline as Mia slid into the water beside him. Their success in freeing the shark gave him both courage and confidence. They could and
would
do this.
They had to
. They had to save Hugh and the others and stop psycho-man Marsh. Tristan dove after the three bull sharks. A few other creatures had joined the team. The two sea turtles were back, one with Hammer on it. The attack shrimp held onto the front rim of the sea turtle's shell, riding cowboy style. Two octopuses had also joined and were jetting alongside them. On the bottom, a slightly pudgy green moray eel slithered along. It looked familiar to Tristan. He thought maybe it was the green moray from the Rehab Center. Last year, when he first saw it, the moray was overweight and trying to get fit. Maybe helping out on the mission was part of its weight loss and fitness plan. Swimming just above the moray eel were four reef squid in a single file.

Not wanting to use any lights, the campers again depended on the sharks' navigation skills. Tristan grabbed hold of a dorsal fin and steeled himself for whatever might come next. The shark looked at him and said,
Climb aboard; it'll be easier and faster
.

Without a second thought, Tristan swung his leg over the shark and straddled it horseback style. He felt its powerful muscles flex and held tightly to its dorsal fin. Tristan immediately felt comfortable aboard the shark, and the closeness gave him strength. It made
him feel like they were true partners, a real team. They went to the surface, and he told Sam and Mia to get on the other sharks. The teens looked at him like he was nuts. It took some convincing, but they too climbed aboard the sharks.

Swimming below the waves and whipping sea spray, the sharks were swift and quiet. Tristan loved riding the shark even more than being pulled alongside it. It was exhilarating, and he felt totally connected to the creature. Soon, a faint underwater glow ahead drew Tristan's attention. The sharks aimed for the light. They rose up for the teens to get a breath and then dove back down. As they got closer, the light got brighter. They swam on. The sharks went to the surface and stopped. The whistling of the wind had lessened, and the water around them was surprisingly calm. Tristan glanced to the side—a rough rock wall. The teens got off the sharks and treaded water. They were just inside the entrance to some sort of cave or tunnel.

“This has to be it,” Tristan whispered. “The way in.”

The sharks told Tristan they'd take the lead. Following the massive bull sharks, the team cautiously swam farther into and under Marsh's creepy psycho spa. Tristan felt a faint vibration in the water, and the light ahead got noticeably brighter. Suddenly, the sharks in front darted to the bottom. Tristan heard them shout:
To the side, mates, move!
He grabbed Sam and Mia, and yanked them against a rock wall.

The light was now nearly blinding and seemed to be moving directly toward them. It was Marsh's black submersible, and it was heading out. Tristan held his
breath and stayed still, plastered against the rock. The sub cruised slowly by, missing him by what seemed like inches. As it passed, Tristan saw two men sitting in the acrylic bubble at the front. He prayed they wouldn't see him or the others flattened against the tunnel's walls and floor. He'd also noticed something else—at the sub's front was a cradle holding a metal barrel.

Tristan figured they were going on one last dumping run before the storm. More sea creatures would die. Tristan wanted to stop them, but then he thought of Hugh and the others still trapped inside. They'd have to let the goons go. Tristan cursed as the black sub disappeared into the dark. Hopefully, it would be the last of their nighttime pollute-the-sea cruises. The team swam on.

When they reached the dock in Marsh's hidden cavern, Tristan noticed something he hadn't seen before. He and the others stayed low and swam to it. Marsh had a second black sub tied up at the far end of the dock. They used it for cover and, as quietly as possible, rose to the surface. The open underground space was lit up like a football field ready for a nighttime game.

“Hey, have you seen Hammer?” Mia whispered. “He was going to be one of our scouts.”

Sam and Tristan shook their heads; last they'd seen the mantis shrimp he had been riding rodeo-style on a sea turtle. Mia frowned and then gave the go-ahead to their other recon experts. They slithered silently out of the water. Almost instantly, the two octopus morphed into dock-lookalikes. One crawled onto a stack of crates
and did a quick color change to match. Each octopus then raised its head up on eight arms like a living periscope in camouflage. A few minutes later they slipped quietly back into the water and jetted to Mia.

“Hugh and Rosina are inside the lab,” Mia reported. “Looks like they're loading stuff into boxes or something. They didn't see Ryder or the woman scientist working with us.”

A familiar deep voice, somewhat less calm and relaxed than before, boomed across the cavern. “Get moving. Make yourselves useful. We'll have our little talk once we're off the island. Of course, I could just leave you here in the storm, but honestly, you're too valuable a commodity to risk.”

“Gee thanks.”

It was Hugh's voice.

Tristan stayed low and peeked out from behind the submersible's black hull. Marsh stood with his hands on his hips. He wore a yellow foul weather jacket with matching pants. Tristan wondered if he had his pajamas on underneath. Marsh turned to two of his security men; their sleep guns were pointed into the lab. “Stay here and watch them. Whatever you do, don't let those kids anywhere near the water. We'll come back for the last load then take them out.” In a hushed voice he added, “We'll leave the woman, don't need her. Make it look like a casualty of the storm.”

Marsh jumped onto a cart with a few of his researchers and some supplies. They took off through the tunnel toward the docks. Tristan ducked back down behind the sub to talk to Mia and Sam.

“It's just the two goons left. Let's do it now.”

“But what about the plan? What about going back to get Coach?” Mia whispered nervously.

“Might be too late,” Tristan responded. “We've gotta do it now.” Somehow he just knew it. He felt it in his gut. This was their best and maybe only chance. If they went back to get Coach Fred, the others would be gone by the time they got back.

Sam and Mia nodded less certainly. Mia dove under to communicate with the crew below.

“You ready, Sam?” Tristan asked.

“I . . . I think so. Are you?” she whispered.

The more Tristan thought about all that Marsh had done, the more ready he was. “Yeah, I'm sick of this creep and his pajamas. Let's get Hugh and the others outta there.”

Mia came back to the surface and gave them the thumbs up. Tristan got ready. Sam struck her dive light on the side of the sub. A loud clanging rang out. The two security guards stepped closer to the dock's edge, curiously peering into the water around the sub. Then, unseen and unheard, numerous suckered arms slid out of the water and wrapped around the men's ankles. The two octopuses pulled with the strength of eight of Marsh's big goons. One man fell face-first into the water. The other crashed onto his back on the dock, hitting his head. Tristan jumped out and grabbed the dart gun from the man lying stunned on the dock. Sam caught the other man's weapon as it flew across the water.

Tristan had never shot anything in his life—other than a big-blaster squirt gun. With only a slight hesitation he pulled the trigger, as did Sam. They both shot again, just to be sure. Luckily, they were too close to miss. Their darts hit their marks and both men took a quick trip to dreamland. The teens struggled to pull the one man out of the water, drowning him was not part of the plan—unless it was absolutely necessary.

Tristan and Sam sprinted for the lab. Hugh and Rosina were just running out. It was another head-on camper collision. Rosina fell to the ground, but this time she just bounded up and gave Tristan a tight hug. “You came back for us!”

“Of course, what'd you think we were going to do?” Tristan said, pushing her off him. “C'mon let's go.”

Meg was sitting in a chair nearby. Her foot was still wrapped in bandages. “Well done.”

Sam looked around. “Where's Ryder?”

Hugh shook his head. “He went to the yacht,
that traitor
. Said we never really appreciated his great talents. He's going to work with Marsh and Rickerton. Wants to live like the rich and famous.”

Sam gasped. “No way.”

“What?” Tristan exclaimed. He'd never been a big fan of Ryder's, but he couldn't believe the guy would actually betray them and work with those creeps. He'd give away all their secrets. This was bad on so many levels. Tristan suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

“Sorry 'bout that, guys,” Meg said. “It's true. Let's just get out of here. What's the plan?”

“Coach is waiting outside in a boat,” Tristan said, thinking about what he'd like to do to Ryder. His shark friends again came to mind.

“Can you swim?” Sam asked the scientist looking at her foot.

“Not really. But I have a better idea.”

Meg got up, leaning on Hugh and Rosina for support. Mia was still in the water on lookout. When they approached, she put her finger to her lips and whispered, “There's a boat coming in through the tunnel.”

The puttering of an engine echoed across the cavern's rock walls. While the others hid, Sam and Tristan readied the tranquilizer guns. Their hands trembled. The nose of a boat cruised into view. It was made of black rubber.

“Relax, it's just me,” Coach said hurriedly. “Sorry, poor choice of words. Weather's gotten worse. It's too much for the inflatable out there now. No way we'd make it back without flipping.”

He noticed the two ape-men sleeping like babies. “Excellent work, campers.”

“Now what?” Rosina moaned.

“Coach, feel like taking a little submarine ride with me?” Meg asked. “Underwater, the wind and waves shouldn't be as bad.”

Coach stared where she was pointing. “It would be my pleasure, Dr. Gladfell.”

“Hey, what about us?” Hugh asked.

Climbing out of the inflatable, Coach pulled out two red pills. He passed one to Rosina and one to Hugh. “You'll be fine. Just follow us and stay
submerged as much as possible. Everyone okay to swim back?”

Before they could answer, they heard the sound of a cart returning.

“No time for discussion,” Coach ordered. “Help Meg into the sub. Sam, give me the dart gun.”

Sam handed her dart gun to Coach Fred. The others helped the injured scientist into the submersible through a hatch at the top. The front of the yellow cart was just coming into view. Following Coach's lead, Tristan fired several darts at the approaching vehicle. He had no idea if he was anywhere close to hitting it, but the cart stopped and began backing up. That gave them the time they needed. Coach Fred climbed into the sub and closed the hatch. He and Meg sat side by side in the big see-through bug eye at the front. Tristan heard a low hum. He undid the lines securing the sub to the dock, threw the dart gun into the water, and dove in.