Shadows at Predator Reef (5 page)

“Nothing to worry about,” I reassured him. “All the big ones stay in Shark Row. There aren't any sand tigers in Predator Reef. The exhibits share a holding tank where animals can be moved for veterinary care, but it's always kept
sealed off from one side. That way the big sharks can't ever get into the reef exhibit, where they might be tempted to feed on their smaller cousins.”

“Ugh, they're cannibals?” Joe grimaced. “As if they weren't scary enough.”

“They're a lot more likely to eat each other than people,” I said, taking the chance to give my brother a better understanding of sharks. “Statistically, more people are killed every year by cows than by sharks. People are afraid of sharks, but the truth is that sharks have a whole lot more to fear from us. Shark hunting, commercial fishing, and the illegal shark-fin trade have decimated global shark populations to critical levels.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “That's great to know, bro, but it's the Joe Hardy population I'm worried about.”

“Even if we were diving with larger species, few shark attacks on humans are ever fatal,” I told him. “Most are just cases of mistaken identity, where the shark confuses the person for a seal or other natural prey animal. You don't have much meat on your bones anyway, so even if one did accidentally take a bite out of you, they'd probably just spit you out like a bad brussels sprout.”

“Well, that's reassuring,” Joe huffed.

I was disturbed too, but not because I was worried about a shark attack. There was another reason I had the shark-hunting problem on my mind as we geared up to dive into Predator Reef.

Like Murph had said, sharks are an essential ingredient in a lot of traditional Chinese medicines.

Just like with sea turtles.

As we entered the calm water of Predator Reef, I hoped we would find something to prove that wasn't the case with Captain Hook.

Since Joe was taking scuba lessons and had a lot more experience than I did, I was going to let him go first and do most of the dive detecting in the deeper part of the exhibit tank, while I searched closer to the surface. We were going to use the aquarium's special “dive comm” masks, which would allow us to communicate with each other underwater, so we could actually talk without having to rely only on hand signals.

A rainbow of brightly colored fish scattered in front of him as Joe began his descent.

“How's it looking down there, Joe?” I asked. The dive comm masks made everything sound a bit bubbly, kind of like you might expect someone to sound underwater.

“Totally sweet! It's like exploring a whole different planet!” Joe's enthusiasm was obvious even through the sound of all the bubbles. And there were lots of bubbles. They spewed upward toward the surface as he talked, making it a little difficult to clearly see Joe as he dived down.

I swam through the shallows above Joe. I didn't have the clear view he did because of the bubbles, but it really was beautiful. Actually being underwater in the fishes' world was unlike anything I'd ever seen before.

“I'm going to head for the nook where they found the broken coral,” Joe said, releasing another stream of air bubbles from the dive comm mask.

“Right behind you,” I replied.

A series of sleek, shark-shaped shadows passed over the bottom of the reef as the blacktips patrolled their domain. Man, was this cool! A moment later the cloud of fish vanished in a flash, taking cover in the coral. That was strange. The fish shouldn't have been scared of us. It took me a second to realize it wasn't us they were afraid of. Another shadow had appeared. It might have seemed cool too, if it wasn't so terrifying. It was shaped like a shark as well, but this one was huge. Like, horror-movie huge. I wiped my mask, thinking maybe the condensation was making me see things. It wasn't.

Predator Reef had an uninvited visitor. One of the big sand tiger sharks had somehow gotten into the exhibit.

It wasn't just any sand tiger either. From the size of it, it could only be Bruce, the biggest shark in the whole aquarium. And Bruce did not look like a happy shark.

Bruce wasn't as large as a great white, but he was still
big
. Ten feet long and over four hundred pounds, with a mouthful of hideous needle-sharp daggers meant for spearing his prey, he looked like a swimming nightmare.

I shook my head in disbelief. He shouldn't have been in the reef tank with us. And whoever had let him out of Shark Row had him very riled up. He swam around Joe in
big circles the way sharks sometimes do when they're stalking prey. With each pass the circle would get smaller until the shark was within easy striking distance.

Joe hadn't seen him yet. But he had stopped swimming, and I could tell he sensed something was wrong.

“Hey, bro, where'd all the fish go? Is something going on up there?” Joe asked. “It's hard to see through all the bubbles.”

“Shark!” I yelled. “We have to get out of the tank!”

“Duh, there are about thirty of them. Stop messing with me,” he said.

“I'm not messing with you, Joe!” I pleaded. “Get out of there now! One of the sand tigers got into the tank!”

“Ha, ha, very funn—” Joe started to say. Then he saw Bruce. “Oh boy.”

I saw a stream of bubbles spew from Joe's mask and hit Bruce in his snout as he circled. Sharks have sensory organs in their noses that can pick up the tiniest electrical impulses in the water. To the shark, the unexpected burst of bubbles must have felt like an all-out assault!

Bruce whipped around and charged into the bubbles, filling the space between Joe and me. I was still a few feet above Joe, and I swam hard for the surface as the giant shark passed close enough that I felt the water from his wake punch me in the legs. Then something clamped onto my arm from above.

Oh no!

But it wasn't the shark; it was Big Chuck pulling me out of the water to safety. Luckily, I'd only been in a few feet of
water, where he could reach me. Joe was still down there, though.

My heart was pumping like a piston inside my chest and my head was throbbing from the quick ascent, but I couldn't worry about that now. Not while my brother was still underwater with the shark.

“Joe!” I yelled into the dive comm mask. “Take cover in the coral nook!”

Joe didn't respond.

“Joe!” I yelled again, but there wasn't any answer.

I tried to dive back into the tank after him, but Big Chuck wrapped his beefy arms around me and wouldn't let go.

I looked down helplessly.

The water was all cloudy with sand and bubbles. Deep below I could make out the form of the thrashing shark. There was no sign of Joe. Not until a second later. That's when his scuba mask floated to the surface.

I
GOTTA SAY, DIVING IN
the reef was definitely one of the awesomest things I had ever experienced. Or at least it was until Bruce showed up.

One second I was swimming through masses of amazing colorful fish and the next I was all alone. I was trying to figure out where all the fish went when someone dimmed the lights in the tank. That's what it looked like at least. I thought Frank was playing with me when he said one of the sand tigers had gotten into the reef exhibit. It wasn't until I started to make out the shape of the massive shadow passing over me that I realized what was going on. I had just turned into shark bait.

Even with the bubbles clouding my vision, there was no mistaking the ferocious shark circling above me.

“Oh boy,” I said, and actually laughed. It was an odd thing to do the moment before a shark tries to eat you, but I couldn't help thinking about Aly jokingly calling me Aquaman. The laugh didn't last long as it hit me that I might never get to see Aly again.

Then the bubbles from my dive comm mask hit Bruce in his ugly snoot. He didn't seem to like that one bit. The shark charged. I could just make out Frank above me, swimming frantically for the surface. I wanted to follow, but the shark was between us, cutting off my escape. I was trapped between an angry shark and the bottom of the tank.

I swam for the closest coral formation, hoping to find somewhere to hide. The shark passed just over my head like a torpedo, its huge jaws chomping down on a mouthful of water. I heard Frank over the dive comm mask telling me to head for Captain Hook's nook. Unfortunately, Bruce got there first. I found myself looking right into a grinning mouth chock-full of razor-sharp teeth.

Bruce charged toward me. I felt like the little clown fish being chased around by the shark in
Finding Nemo
. It was a lot more fun to watch on the screen, I can tell you that!

I swam for my life, diving behind an outcrop of coral on the floor of the exhibit just as the shark slammed into it, shattering the coral to bits. The shark's tail whipped past my head as it swung around for another charge. There was nowhere left for me to go.

That's when I noticed something strange on the floor of
the tank under where the coral had been. It looked kind of like a trapdoor. With Bruce barreling straight at me, I didn't have a lot of time to think about it. I reached for the small metal ring mounted on the door and pulled.

The door swung open, creating a suction effect kind of like the drain plug being pulled on a big bathtub. I slipped through in a rush of water and slid the door closed behind me just as the shark's jaws snapped shut on the place where my head had been.

I was temporarily safe from the shark, but somehow my predicament had gone from bad to worse. My regulator had torn out of my mouth during my escape! No regulator meant no air.
Don't panic, dude.
I tried to follow the emergency procedures Aly had taught me and did my best to hold my breath and stay calm until I could assess my situation.

I was in a small airtight holding tank, just big enough for a diver.

A diver and maybe a five-hundred-pound turtle.

Had I just discovered how someone stole Captain Hook? If I was lucky, I'd get the chance to contemplate it later. Right then I had a more urgent mystery to solve—namely, how I was going to get out of the holding tank without drowning. I couldn't hold my breath for much longer. I reached behind me for my Octopus—that's the backup regulator attached to the scuba tank—but the hose was caught in the trapdoor. I couldn't get it free without opening the hatch and exposing myself to Bruce.

Just then I saw another latch, this one on the bottom of the tank. My lungs throbbed and my eyeballs felt like they were going to bulge out of my head. Out of options and nearly out of air, I grabbed the latch and yanked. The water trapped in the holding tank dumped out all at once as I fell through the air into total darkness.

J
OE HAD VANISHED. JUST LIKE
Captain Hook.

I struggled against Big Chuck, trying to get loose so I could dive back into the water after my brother. I broke free, but before I could leap into the tank, Chuck yanked away my regulator and tossed it aside. I wasn't going anywhere without that no matter how much I wanted to.

“I'm sorry, man,” Chuck said. “I can't let you go down there. Not until we get the vets to tranquilize that shark.”

I stared down, looking for some sign that Joe was okay. There wasn't any blood in the water, and I could only hope that meant my brother had somehow managed to escape the shark's bite without drowning. But where had he gone?
Bruce looked as confused as I was. I could see him circling along the bottom of the tank, searching for his prey. When I reached down to pick up my brother's scuba mask, I saw a face reflected in the water—one that wasn't mine. I looked up. A hooded figure leaned over the rail one level above, watching me. As soon as the person realized I'd seen them, they bolted.

Innocent people usually don't run away.

“Get help for my brother!” I called to Big Chuck as I took off after the suspect, kicking off my fins and dropping my air tank as I ran. Luckily, we had been wearing dive boots under our fins to protect our feet from the sharp coral. I never would have been able to give chase in bare feet.

The figure ran down an escalator in the wrong direction, leaping the final few feet to the first floor and sprinting for the main exit. He or she was wearing a Bayport Aquarium hoodie, but I couldn't see their face. My only hope was to catch them. The figure fled through the aquarium exit and I followed in close pursuit, chasing him or her along the pier toward the harbor.

The suspect ran toward the boat rental place next to the water taxi station and leaped from the dock. For a second I thought they were going to dive into the bay, but they landed on the bow of one of the little motorboats tourists rent to tootle around the harbor. The kid running the rental booth yelled for them to stop, but the suspect already had the motor running and a second later was pulling away from
the dock. Luckily, the little boats weren't built for speed. There was a water taxi nearby, and I managed to hop aboard just before it shoved off.

“Follow that boat!” I said to the elderly driver. He gave me a funny look, but he did as I asked. I don't think he'd gotten that request before.

The perp's escape boat may not have been very fast, but neither was my water taxi. You know those high-speed car chases they show on the news? Well, this was the low-speed boat version.

“Can't you step on it?!” I asked the driver.

“What do you think this is, a James Bond movie?” The driver laughed. “We're in a water taxi pontoon, not a speedboat.”

The driver was right, but the perp was getting away and there was no way we were going to catch up to them in the water taxi. The driver's James Bond comment did give me an idea, though. When in doubt, ask yourself, What would 007 do?

I saw my chance when the little motorboat veered back toward us to avoid hitting a terrified paddleboater. It was just close enough for me to try something drastic. I gave a running start and leaped from the water taxi with everything I had.