Out of Season (6 page)
When I look up, Mark is almost on me.
A wake rears off the back of Mark's boat. It sends a wave crashing over the rocks. Spray flies off into our faces. Our kayaks rock wildly. I grab at Saul's boat.
The wave passes, but Mark circles around again and another wave hits the rocks. The spray soaks us. Our boats rock, knocking into each other. The diver swims up behind us, cutting off our escape from the rocks. Saul thrashes his paddle at him, but he only backs away a few feet.
“They're trying to corner us,” I call to Saul. I'm so frightened I want to puke.
“Leave us alone,” Saul shouts.
The boat doesn't even slow down.
Around it comes again. It's moving faster now. The wake is higher than our kayaks.
“Arghhhhhh⦔ I shout as the spray hits me.
“We have to get away from the rocks,” Saul yells.
But we're too tight against the rocks to move. The swell from Mark's wake has pushed us so close to the rocks, we're in danger of being dashed against them. Our kayaks will break.
We'll be swamped.
A dark shadow swims at us from under the water again. I grasp my paddle, ready to thrash the diver. Then the dark shape flips, and Oscar's head appears. He swims into the path of Mark's boat.
He bares his teeth and growls.
Mark looks down and laughs. He bends down in the boat where we can't see him and reappears a second later with an oar in his hand.
“Get out of there, Oscar,” I shout.
Mark turns to look at me, the oar still raised. In that moment I know he'll stop at nothing to get his net back.
He's coming for us, no matter what.
Oscar snarls and dives. He resurfaces a few feet farther away from Mark's boat. Mark swings at him again.
“Now,” shouts Saul. He pushes my boat.
Together we sprint away from the rocks.
“Head for the kelp,” says Saul.
“Oscar⦔ I shout.
“Can take care of himself. Now paddle,” says Saul.
I have no choice. I paddle with every ounce of strength I have. My arms scream at me and my stomach muscles burn as we sprint across the bay.
Mark isn't distracted by Oscar for long. Before we reach the kelp, he zooms after us.
“Come on,” shouts Saul. His boat pulls ahead of me. I paddle harder to keep up. The kayaks slide into the kelp bed and instantly slow.
“Keep moving,” shouts Saul.
I have no intention of stopping.
I dig my paddle into the water and push. It slides through kelp strands. I twist the paddle as I pull it out of the water. Kelp streams off it.
We paddle deeper into the kelp bed. I dig my paddle into the water and pull it toward me. It catches on a strand of kelp. I flip it off my paddle. Another catches it. I can hardly move through the water, the seaweed is so thick.
“We can't paddle through this kelp,” Saul yells.
“Keep going,” I shout. He turns back to me and nods.
We paddle as hard as we can, deeper and deeper into the kelp bed. Dig, pull, unwrap the paddle. Dig, pull, unwrap.
We're hardly moving.
The boat is gaining on us by the second.
With a deep breath, I sink my paddle in the water again. It's heavy with seaweed. I'm moving as fast as I can, yet I feel like I'm crawling.
I can hear Saul panting. I don't dare turn my head to look at him. I just paddle and paddle and paddle. The sound of the motor gets closer.
“Move it,” I gasp at Saul with the last of my breath.
Mark's boat is about to ram my stern when I hear the sound I've been listening for. The motor grinds and whines and then stops.
I pull my paddle and slide away from Mark's boat.
Mark guns the motor. Again it whines and stops. Wisps of smoke leak from the engine, and the smell of burning oil fills the air.
His propellers are tangled in the kelp.
The boat is dead in the water.
I lift my paddle out of the water and take a deep breath. “That was close,” I say.
“It's not over yet,” Saul pants. He points, and I look around in time to see the diver's head sink below the surface at the edge of the kelp bed.
I grip my paddle and scan the water.
“I can't see him,” I shout.
We search for a sign to show us where he's gone. Then I see movement in the kelp bed. It could be Oscar or Lilly, or it could be the diver.
Saul's seen it too. “Move it,” he shouts at me. “Paddle away from me, as fast as you can. Splash a lot. He won't know which of us to follow,” he says.
I dig my paddle into the water, and the kayak inches forward through the kelp. The diver must be gaining on me. I dig my paddle in again. Sweat pours into my eyes. I glance behind me. Saul has reached the edge of the kelp bed and is speeding away from me. There are bubbles behind him.
“Saul, behind you,” I shout.
He turns and looks at the water, then plants his paddle and spins his boat around.
I struggle to turn my boat around in the kelp, but I'm too slow. The diver is only a few feet away from Saul.
Saul leans over as far as he can and swings his paddle through the water. A dark shape slices past.
“He's trying to get under you,” I say.
Saul swipes his paddle through the water again.
“I hit him,” Saul shouts.
The diver backs away. He surfaces, then turns and heads for me. I'm still in the kelp.
“Head to shore,” shouts Saul, but I'm already moving, and I paddle harder than I ever have until I reach the edge of the kelp bed. Once I'm in clear water, my kayak surges forward, and in seconds I slip under the overhanging branches close to shore. The diver's bubbles are close behind me. I could grasp them in my hand. Twigs and needles slash across my face as I race along the shore.
“Go, Maya,” shouts Saul from behind me, so I take another stroke and another and another. Then at last Saul says, “Maya, you can stop.”
I glance back. The diver rises to the surface. He tears off his mask.
We stare at each other. My breath comes in ragged hunks. My fingers ache, and there's no strength left in my arms. I want to fling my paddle away and collapse over the deck of my kayak.
But there's something about the way he's looking at us.
“What's he doing?” Saul calls.
The man puts his mask back on and submerges. His bubbles drift away from us.
I wait for relief to flood my body. It doesn't. The bubbles head away from the boat. Toward the sea otters.
“He's heading to Gertrude!”
“We have to get there first.” Saul pulls up beside me. He shoves my kayak. “Come on.”
I dredge up some strength and follow him. The bubbles are ahead of us.
Strength comes from nowhere. Our kayaks fly across the water.
We reach Gertrude first.
Gertrude is lying in a huddle. Her head bumps shore each time a wave comes in. The sight of her wrapped up in the mesh of the bag makes my stomach lurch.
The water's murky here, and it's hard to see underwater. I keep my eyes open for bubbles, but they're hard to keep track of with the surge of the waves. There's a lot of driftwood and roots here.
That gives me an idea.
“Saul, send him toward me.”
“What?”
“Just do it!”
Saul leans over and swishes his paddle through the water. The bubbles stop.
They start up again. Saul paddles up behind him and drags his paddle through the water again. The bubbles stop, then move back toward me. Saul follows. He blocks the diver from behind.
I paddle forward, making as much noise as I can.
The bubbles move away from me, closer to shore. My paddle catches in roots and driftwood. It slows me down. I pull my paddle loose and start again.
We herd the diver closer and closer to shore.
“Head for that tree,” I tell Saul.
He changes the angle of his boat. We glide forward.
There are roots and logs all around us. The diver's moving more slowly now. He's trying to find his way through them.
“Keep going,” I call out.
Saul nods.
We push the diver closer to the tree. Its branches scrape at our faces.
Finally, the bubbles stop moving.
“He's caught in the roots. He can't move,” says Saul.
The diver stands up. He takes off his mask and glares at us.
“Don't think this is over,” he says.
We don't answer.
He tugs at his tank. It's caught on the roots. “What are you going to do? Sit there forever?” he snarls.
“We don't have to,” says Saul. “Just until the police get here.”
“The police?” I ask.
“Of course.”
“You radioed them?” I ask.
“Yeah. As soon as I saw the poachers' boat turn into the bay. They should be here any second.”
The flood of relief washes over me from my toes all the way to my fingertips.
Dad and the police arrive a few minutes later. Mark and one diver are in the boat. The other diver stands in the water. He's got nowhere to go.
Saul and I tell the whole story. The policewoman calls for a fisheries officer to come and rescue Gertrude.
“We'll keep that bag as evidence,” she says.
“They probably still have urchins on board,” says Dad. The policewoman nods and speaks into her radio.
Saul and I ride home in the police boat. I don't have enough strength left to paddle a kayak.
“It's hard to believe this all happened in one day,” I say. “Poor Gertrude. I wonder what's going to happen to the sea otters. I really screwed up.”
I must look thoughtful, because Dad says, “Maya, telling us about the sea otters is the best thing you could do.”
“It is?”
“Sure,” he says, and he reaches over to take my hand. “Honey, now that everyone knows the sea otters are here, no one can hurt them, can they?”
He's right. When no one but me knew they were there, anyone could have hurt them and no one would hear about it. Now everyone will know if something happens to them. They're protected by that. I smile. “You're right, Dad. I should have thought of that.”
He leans over and looks me in the eye. “You should have trusted all of us, eh?”
I nod. But then I say something that's been on my mind since all of this began. “You should have trusted me too, Dad. You should have told me about the poachers. I wouldn't have gone out there at all if I'd known there were poachers about. You should have told me.”
Dad looks down at his shoes. When he looks back at me, he nods.
In the morning Dad and Saul and I paddle into the bay as the sun tips over the treetops. We spread out and check the whole bay. The sea otters are gone. I knew they would be, but I was hoping anyway.
I meet Dad back in the middle of the bay. My face must look pretty glum because Dad says, “Gertrude will be okay, you know.”
I laugh. “You know I call her Gertrude?”
“Saul told me.”
I blush, but then I think of Saul calling out to Gertrude. “Saul was awesome yesterday,” I say.
“You should tell him that,” says Dad.
I nod. “I will.”
Saul paddles out from behind a rock and glides up beside us. “Sorry, Maya, no sight of them.”
“It's okay. I know the fisheries guys will keep an eye on them,” I say.
“Dad and I can watch for them when we're fishing,” says Saul.
“Really? Fishing? You got your boat back?” I ask.
Dad shakes his head. “Not yet, but if the police don't find it, the insurance will cover the cost of replacing it. In the meantime, Saul and I can crew on Johansen's boat.”
“You can let me know where the sea otters are and how Gertrude is doing,” I say. “If they're close enough, I'll paddle out before school and say hello.”
“Sounds like a plan,” says Dad. “For now, though, we'd better head back.”
Saul and Dad and I put our paddles in the water. The sun is bright over our shoulders. The water sparkles as the three of us head home.
Kari Jones is a college instructor who teaches students to write, but when school is out, she can often be found with her family and friends exploring the natural world and dreaming up adventures to share. Kari lives in Victoria, British Columbia.
o
rca
currents
The following is an excerpt from
another exciting Orca Currents novel,
Storm Tide
by Kari Jones.
978-1-55469-807-3 $9.95 pb
