The quig continued thrashing and sank down beneath me. A moment later it crashed into the reef. The sled kept pulling me away, but I looked back and saw that the monster was writhing uncontrollably. It was a horrifying sight. This fish was history. It wasn’t going to eat me or anybody else.
I was saved from the quig, but I was still traveling out of control. I wondered how long this little engine would go before burning out. Now my arm was starting to hurt bad. Not to mention my ribs, which had taken a healthy whack of shark tail. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could take this.
Then something caught my eye. It was a gray shape moving up alongside me. Uh-oh. Was there another quig? I spun around to get a better look and saw that it wasn’t a quig at all. It was a guy being pulled by another water sled. But it wasn’t Uncle Press. This guy wore black pants with a black top that had no sleeves. Through the clear air globe on his head I saw that his hair was kind of long and black. He had an empty speargun strapped to his leg, which meant he was probably the shooter who saved my life. I had no idea who this guy was, but I liked him already.
He knew how to handle a water sled, too. He eased over close to me until we were traveling side by side. He held on to his sled with one hand and let go with the other to reach back to his leg. What was he doing? He brought his hand forward again and I saw that he was now holding a very large, very nasty-looking silver knife. For a second I freaked. Was he going to stab me? But that didn’t make sense. He wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of killing the quig just to kill me himself. At least I didn’t think so.
He reached forward with the knife and with one quick move he lashed out at me. Not knowing what he was doing, I closed my eyes. But what he did with that one strong swipe was cut the vine that attached me to the runaway water sled. The pull on my arm stopped instantly. The force of the water slowed me down. I looked ahead to see the runaway water sled continue forward on its crazed trip to nowhere. Good riddance!
I was dazed and hurt. I tried to move my legs to get some sort of control, but I was floundering. That’s when I felt something grab the back of my shirt. It was the guy in black. He had come around and was now right next to me.
Without a word he grabbed the back of my collar and began towing me to the surface. I totally relaxed. Whoever this guy was, he was in charge now and I didn’t care. All I could think about was breathing fresh air again.
The trip to the surface took about twenty seconds. The closer we got, the brighter the water became. I couldn’t wait to get on top. Then just before we surfaced, the guy in black let go of my collar and let me float up on my own.
It was a great feeling. My head broke the surface and the BC belt kept me floating. That was a good thing because I didn’t think I could tread water just then. I yanked the air globe off my head and took a deep breath of fresh air. The sun was warm, the air smelled sweet, and I was alive.
“Friend of Press’s, are you?” came a voice from behind me.
I spun around to see the guy in black floating next to me. He had taken off his air globe and I now saw that he was a little older than me, and had a slight Asian look with almond-shaped eyes. He had deep, sun-colored skin and long black hair. He also had the biggest, friendliest smile I thought I’d ever seen in my life.
“Told me he was bringing somebody to visit,” the guy said cheerfully. “Sorry ‘bout the rude welcome. Them sharks can stir up a real natty-do sometimes. Easy enough to handle ‘em though. Just gotta know the soft spots,” he said, tapping his head.
“Who are you?” was all I could think of saying.
“Name’s Spader. Vo Spader. Pleased to meet you.”
“I’m Bobby Pendragon. You saved my life.” I wasn’t sure what else to add but, “Thanks.”
“No big stuff. It happens. Never saw anyone caught up by a sled like that though. No sir, that was a real tum-tigger.”
“Took us a might off course though,” he added, looking around.
I looked around too and what I saw made my heart start to race again. Because what I saw was… nothing. Oh, there was plenty of water all right. But that was it. We were in the middle of the ocean with no landmass in sight.
If a tum-tigger was bad, this was definitely a tum-tigger. (CONTINUED)
CLORAL
Talk about feeling helpless. Here we were, two guys floating like corks in an endless ocean. A quick three-sixty scan showed no land, no boat, and no rescue of any kind in sight.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” asked Spader.
Beautiful day? We were lost at sea and he was talking about nice weather? Either he was in strong denial, or he was crazy. Either way, he was starting to make me nervous.
That’s when I felt a tug on my foot.
I screamed. The quig was back. Or he had a brother. Or he hadtwobrothers. And they were both after me and they…
The water to my right began to boil and an instant later a bubble-covered head surfaced. It was Uncle Press. He yanked off his air globe and smiled at me.
“Have a nice trip, Bobby?” he asked. “That wasn’t exactly plan B.”
“You think Itriedto get dragged like that?” I shot back, all indignant.
“Whoa. Relax. I was kidding.”
“And I thought you never missed?”
I couldn’t help but add that last dig. I knew it was my fault he missed hitting the quig with the spear, but still, he did say henevermissed. No qualifications.
“Then it’s a good thing Spader came along,” he said calmly.
“Hello, Press!” exclaimed Spader. “Good to see your face again.”
“Yours, too,” said Uncle Press. “Lucky for us you were in the area.”
“I was out doing a bit of fishin’ and spotted your skimmer anchored a ways back,” said Spader. “I have to say I was a might surprised. You know this is shark territory.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” I threw in. “Maybe we shouldn’t be here anymore.”
“Right!” shouted Spader. “No sense in waiting for another nibbler to come a-callin’.”
Spader looked at his big, black diver-style watch. I think it must have been some kind of compass because he checked it, looked up, changed position, then announced, “Off we go.”
He popped the air globe back on his head, pointed his water sled, then shot off across the surface.
I looked at Uncle Press thinking that this guy must be crazy. There was nothing out here. Where was he going?
“I love that guy,” he said.
“Where is he going? We’re in the middle of an ocean.”
Uncle Press put his air globe back on and swam close to me. “He’ll bring us to our skimmer. You okay?”
“I feel like I was stretched on a medieval rack and beaten with a club. Other than that, I’m cool. But I don’t think I can swim.”
“You don’t have to. Put your globe on and grab my belt.”
I did as I was told. I put the air globe back on and it instantly conformed to my head. I then reached out for Uncle Press’s belt. I made sure to use my left hand. My right arm had taken a bit too much abuse. It was probably two inches longer now, too.
Uncle Press gently squeezed the throttle on his water sled and we started our journey toward the skimmer that would take us… somewhere. Luckily the water was calm so the trip was easy. Good thing, too. I needed to catch my breath. As Uncle Press pulled me through the gentle swells, I floated on my back and looked up at the sun. Yes, the sun. There was only one, unlike Denduron where there were three. It was a hot sun, too. So far everything about Cloral gave me the feeling of being someplace tropical. Both the water and the air were warm, but not so hot as to be uncomfortable. Of course, the whole quig thing made the place feel a little less like paradise, but you can’t have everything.
We had only traveled for a few minutes when Uncle Press slowed to a stop. I let go of his belt and saw that bobbing on the water in front of us were two water vehicles — skimmers. Spader had actually found his way here with the help of his watch. Talk about finding a needle in a haystack. I was impressed.