The Shark Rider (16 page)

Read The Shark Rider Online

Authors: Ellen Prager

A loud thumping sound soon drew their attention skyward. It was a familiar noise to the teens after last summer. Flying toward them from the north was a helicopter.

“That was fast,” Hugh said.

Meg looked up. “We don't have a helicopter. Probably just some rich guy going to his island.”

The helicopter was painted yellow, and as it neared, Tristan thought he could see someone leaning out, possibly with binoculars or a camera with a giant zoom lens.

Ignoring the helicopter, Meg told Coach to head northwest toward a small island just visible in the distance. A speedboat from the wildlife center would meet them there.

The helicopter circled once and then flew back in the direction it came from. The thumping from its rotating blades faded quickly.

“Those are Rogue Rocks,” Meg said, looking toward their destination. “Supposedly, pirates would lure ships there to wreck and then steal the valuables.”

It was slow going as they tried to avoid any big bounces or bumps that might further stress the sick sea turtle. From a distance, Rogue Rocks looked like a small island. Once they got closer, Tristan realized it was just a bunch of big, dark rock piles. Meg pointed to a narrow passage between two of the towering piles of dark stone. Coach steered the boat through into a hidden circular cove where the water was exceptionally calm. The loud drone of a powerful engine again drew everyone's attention. Tristan glanced up, thinking it was the helicopter again.

Meg pointed to a boat speeding their way. “There they are.”

A huge white rooster tail of water shot up behind the fast-moving powerboat. It slowed to thread the narrow entrance to Rogue Rocks and was soon pulling up beside the inflatable. Meg said hello to the three people aboard, and the group carefully passed them the sea turtle. She then explained what happened and thanked them for the quick response. The animal rescue team waved good-bye as their boat cruised slowly away. Once outside of Rogue Rocks, the driver powered up and they blasted off. The boat was quickly gone from sight.

“Let's head back to the ship to get these dead fish on ice and figure out where to go next,” Meg said.

Coach steered the inflatable back toward Deadman's Cove. On the way, he asked if anyone wanted to
try his or her hand at driving. Sam was quick to volunteer. She swerved a little at first, but then steered straight, grinning from ear to ear.

Tristan glanced back at Norman Island with a million questions swirling through his mind.
Was there really treasure there? What was up with the shark, and why was it acting so weird? And what killed the creatures they found in the cave and made the sea turtle sick?

13

GIANT BOWLING BALLS

“S
AW SOME SPONGE; IT LOOKED OKAY
. A
NYONE
see anything that looked sick? Anything blotchy, blackened, or bleached white?” Meg asked.

Back at the
Reef Runner
, the campers had just finished lunch in the main salon. They all shook their heads.

“Dr. Gladfell, what do you think killed the things in the cave?” Hugh questioned.

“Meg. Call me Meg.”

Hugh nodded sheepishly.

“Don't know yet. Analysis of the samples we took should tell us more.”

“Was there anything unusual about what you found?” Coach asked.

The scientist paused for a moment. “As Tristan
pointed out, there were some squirrelfish, along with other fish, a few moray eels, and an octopus.”

Tristan thought back to what Ms. Sanchez told him at the Rehab Center. “Squirrelfish are nocturnal.”

“Yes, that's right,” Meg responded. “Come to think of it, all of the dead organisms we found in the cave tend to be more active at night.”

“What does that mean?” Hugh asked.

“Not sure. It could be that whatever killed them was somehow linked to their nighttime activity.”

“How about the shark? It was acting kinda cuckoo,” Tristan added.

“Have sharks ever responded to you like that before?”

“No.”

“Hunt, tell us again what it said.” Coach Fred instructed.

“Said it would get in trouble, that we should clear off, save ourselves.”

“Save ourselves from what?” Sam asked.

“Don't know.”

Meg cleared a space on the table and unrolled the chart. With a pencil, she added a new star next to Treasure Caves on Norman Island. “Looking at the other mortality events, this one is the farthest south. Most have been closer to Virgin Gorda. I think we should head up that way and visit a few of these other locations. Besides, then I can arrange to ship the dead fish to the institute on the evening ferry from the Bitter End Yacht Club. I'll ask the captain to reposition the
ship here.” She pointed to a small landmass just north of Virgin Gorda—Mosquito Island.

“If it's okay with you, Coach, on the way we could make a quick stop here, at The Baths.” She pointed to the southwestern edge of Virgin Gorda. “It's the most popular spot on the islands and not something to miss, even for all of you.”

Coach grudgingly agreed to a short stop. He urged the campers to make it quick and warned them, as usual, not to do anything stupid. He also reminded them not to put any of their
unusual
in-water skills on display in what could be a crowded public place.

About an hour later, the
Reef Runner
slowed and turned toward shore. Tristan, Sam, and Ryder were sitting outside atop the deck box on the port side. They'd been there since lunch and had seen five rays catapult themselves high out of the water, along with the fins of several dolphins at the surface. At least, they assumed they were dolphins.

Tristan stared ahead. “Check out all the boats. This must be the place.”

“Yeah, and most of 'em are, like, way nicer than this old tub,” Ryder griped.

Tristan ignored Ryder. He'd been doing that a lot lately. Ever since the challenge at Sea Camp, Ryder had been getting on Tristan's nerves even more than
usual. He was right about one thing, though—there were some pretty nice boats moored where they were headed. A sleek, blue-hulled sailboat with glistening teak woodwork caught his eye. Nearby, sat a wide catamaran and next to that a shiny, white yacht. The other moorings held smaller sailboats or powerboats outfitted for deep-sea fishing. One boat, however, was definitely worse off than the old research vessel they were on. Compared to it, even the
Reef Runner
was large and luxurious. It was a beat-up wooden dinghy barely bigger than a bathtub. Tristan hoped that whoever owned that boat hadn't had far to travel.

He examined the shoreline, wondering what attracted so many people. Nestled between two rocky hills was a short, white-sand beach with a small, thatch-roofed hut behind it. It looked like a nice little beach and bar, but no big whoop. The ship motored closer to shore. Tristan soon realized the rocky hills weren't exactly hills. They were piles, several stories high, of the biggest, roundest gray boulders he'd ever seen, like stacks of giant rock bowling balls.

The captain cut the engine as they approached an empty mooring ball. Charlie leapt onto the bow, carrying a long pole with a hook at the end. The
Reef Runner
glided to a stop, and the first mate expertly reached down to snag a looped line attached to the floating white ball. He put the loop around a cleat at the ship's bow and gave the captain the thumbs-up.

Tristan was enviously watching the first mate's balance and agility when Hugh and Rosina appeared from inside, followed by Meg and Coach Fred.

Meg smiled. “Never get sick of this place.”

“What's so special about it? Looks like just a bunch of rocks on the beach to me,” Rosina scoffed.

“I can answer that,” Hugh offered. “I was just inside reading about it. The rocks at The Baths are made of granite and formed millions of years ago. Wind and waves wore them down over time into these giant round boulders. Underneath the boulders, there are trails and hidden pools.”

“Well done, Hugh,” the scientist said. “Exactly right.”

“Can we swim in the pools?” Sam asked excitedly.

“They're more like wading pools,” Meg told them. “They get a little deeper at high tide, but you'll want to stay in the shallow areas by the trail. Charlie will bring you to shore in the inflatable. He'll drop you off and then return in about an hour. That should be plenty of time to explore the boulder trail. It's well marked.”

After slathering themselves with sunscreen, the campers piled into the inflatable. They were barefoot and in their swimsuits. The teens waved to Coach and Meg as Charlie ferried them to shore. The captain stood at the bow, scowling at the departing group. Sam waved at him as well, but the man simply turned on his heel and headed inside the boat. “Not the most friendly sort, is he?” Sam said to the first mate. Charlie just shrugged in response.

Charlie drove slowly, steering around the boats as well as swimmers going in seemingly random directions. He beached the inflatable on the sand. Tristan was just climbing out when the whine of powerful engines
echoed across the water. He twisted around to see the incoming boat and tumbled right out of the inflatable onto the sand. Charlie snickered while the other teens just smiled, like Tristan tripping was an everyday occurrence—which it pretty much was. Tristan swore under his breath, brushing off the sand. He eyed the boat that was just cruising slowly by the
Reef Runner
. One of the men aboard waved to their ship's captain who was back at the bow. The powerboat pulled up to an adjacent mooring. Tristan thought maybe they were friends of the captain—that is, assuming he had friends, given his not-so-sparkling personality.

“I'll be back to get y'all in about an hour,” Charlie told them. “Just follow the signs. And don't go off the trail. Never know when one of these big rocks may fall.”


What
?” Hugh snapped.

“Just kidding,” Charlie laughed. “These rocks haven't moved for thousands of years. It's perfectly safe. Trail starts that way.” He pointed down the beach to a sign with an arrow that said “To Devil's Bay.”

“That was a good one,” Rosina said in a syrupy sweet voice, smiling weirdly at the good-looking first mate.

“Yeah, a good one,” Sam added. “Thanks, Charlie. See you later.”

The boys exchanged questioning looks, obviously wondering why the girls were acting so nice, especially Rosina.

The group walked around some oiled-up sunbathers and then passed the small beach bar, where people
were drinking beer and laughing. Nobody paid much attention to the teens as they approached the trail entrance. It was a dark, narrow, triangular passageway that led beneath two of the huge granite boulders.

They had to go through one behind the other. Ryder ran ahead on the hard, packed sand. Tristan followed, ducking down and taking care not to smack his head on the rocks overhead. Sam went next. She ran her hand over the smooth, gray, granite walls. Rosina followed, with Hugh bringing up the rear.

Tristan heard muffled voices—people talking somewhere in and among the boulders. He followed Ryder through the tunnel into a dimly lit cavern with a high boulder ceiling and a shallow pool in the floor. A single ray of sunlight pierced through a crack between the rocks overhead and flickered across the crystal clear water at their feet. Tristan stood in the water in sheer wonderment. It was the coolest nature-made kiddie pool ever.

“Not bad,” Ryder said as he waded farther into the cavern.

Sam entered. “Wicked!”

Hugh and Rosina joined the others as they stared in awe at the natural beauty and flickering rays of golden light in the boulder-built cavern.

“Dead end that way,” Ryder told them, coming back.

Tristan pointed to a frayed rope nailed to the side of a rock sloping up to their left. “I think the trail goes that way.”

Using the makeshift handrail, Tristan took the lead.
He climbed up and across the smooth, sloped boulder. The others followed. Tristan gazed at the giant boulders all around them, feeling very small. The place was both mesmerizing and intimidating. About twenty feet later, he came to a short set of irregular rock steps. Tristan jumped down onto the sand. The colossal round rocks surrounding them sat one on top of another. Tristan looked up and could see blue sky. They were in a clearing in the boulder pile. He peered more closely at the rocks. Where sunlight hit the granite, small black and clear crystals sparkled like diamonds.

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