Dolphins at Daybreak - Mary Pope Osborne [5]
The octopus squirts black ink to escape its enemies. One of its main enemies is the shark.
“Oh, no,” said Jack.
“What’s wrong?” asked Annie.
Jack looked out the window. The water was growing clear again.
A shadowy figure moved toward the mini-sub.
“What is that?” whispered Annie.
The fish was way bigger than the dolphins. And it had a very weird head.
Jack could feel his heart nearly stop.
“A hammerhead shark,” he breathed. “We’re really in trouble now.”
The shark swam behind the coral.
“Where did it go?” said Annie, peering out the window.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Jack. “We have to get to the top.”
“More water’s coming in,” said Annie.
“Yeah, I know. Come on … come on … faster!” Jack ordered the mini-sub.
“Even more water’s coming in,” said Annie, “lots more!”
Jack looked up. The water wasn’t dripping now—it was spurting.
“A few seconds, a few seconds,” said Jack.
Suddenly, the mini-sub burst out of the water. It bobbed on the waves like a cork. The ocean sparkled all around it.
“Safe!” shouted Annie.
Jack felt the water rising around his bare feet.
“Uh—not really … ” he said.
“Oops,” said Annie. “The octopus must have made cracks in the bottom, too.”
The water was up to their ankles now.
Jack looked out. He saw the reef in the distance.
“The sub can make it. It doesn’t look that far,” he said.
“Go, go, go,” said Annie.
She pressed one of the steering keys.
Suddenly, the screen went blank.
“What’s happening?” said Jack.
Annie pressed the key again. Then Jack pressed the other pictures. Nothing happened.
“It’s dead,” said Annie.
“Oh, great,” said Jack.
Now the water was up to their knees.
“I guess we’ll have to swim,” said Jack. He took a deep breath.
“Right,” said Annie. “It’s a good thing we had swimming lessons this summer.”
“Right,” said Jack. “And it’s a bad thing we just saw a shark.”
Jack quickly found the picture of the shark in the book.
He read aloud:
If you ever see a shark in the water, don’t splash. Swim calmly away.
Jack closed the book.
“We better do the breast stroke,” said Annie. “So we won’t splash.”
“Yep, and stay close,” said Jack.
“Very close,” said Annie. Her eyes were wide. But she seemed very calm.
Jack took a deep breath. He tried to be calm, too. He calmly took off his glasses. He calmly put them and the book into his pack. He calmly put his pack on his back.
Annie opened the hatch.
“Be calm,” Annie said. She slipped out of the mini-sub.
“Help,” Jack said calmly. He held his nose.
Then he calmly lowered himself into the ocean.
Jack moved his arms slowly. He moved his legs slowly. He gently pushed the water out of his way as he did the breast stroke.
Calm, calm, he told himself.
Annie swam beside him. They headed for the reef.
All was calm.
Then Jack saw something out of the corner of his eye.
A dark fin was zigzagging through the water. It was heading toward them.
Jack wanted to splash. He wanted to yell. But he remembered: calm.
I better not tell Annie, he thought. She’ll stay calmer if she doesn’t know.
He began to swim faster—then faster. Annie went faster, too.
They both swam as fast, and as calmly, as they could.
Sometimes Annie went even faster than Jack, which made him swim faster. And faster.
Jack was so scared that he wasn’t tired at all. He was swimming for his life—and for Annie’s life, too.
He didn’t look back to see if the shark was still there. He didn’t want to know.
He just kept his eye on the tree house in the distance. And he kept swimming.
Jack and Annie swam and swam and swam.
It took forever for the tree house to get just a little closer.
Jack realized the reef was farther away than he had thought.
He kept swimming, but his arms and legs felt heavy.
Annie was struggling, too.
“Float!” she said. “Float!”
Jack and Annie turned onto their backs. They floated the way they had learned in swimming class.
We’ll just rest for a minute, Jack thought. Then we’ll keep going.
But the more Jack floated, the more tired he felt. Soon he was too tired even to float. He started to sink.
Then