Page 112 of Ship Outta Luck

A pistol thunders next to me and I swing my attention to Charlie, who peppers the water with bullets.

“Stop it. You’ll hit one of them,” I yell at her.

“That’s the point.” Charlie frowns as the trigger clicks, the magazine empty.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Dean’s still doing his best to swim faster.

Terror grips me. What if the sharks don’t go for Pierce, but for Dean?

Am I really this close to a flipping chance at happiness, only to have a shark rip it away?

“Why does this remind me ofThe Old Man and the Sea?” Charlie’s head is angled at the water. “Except like, way less boring. Never liked Hemingway.”

I gawk at her.

Maybe thereissomething I can do. Spinning on my heel, I turn into the cabin of the rental boat, ignoring the walls pressing down on me, caging me in. The cushion thuds against the floor, the storage compartment torn apart in my search. Finally, I look up, heart pounding in my ears.

There it is.

My hands wrap around the cold metal surface of the harpoon, and I race back through the tiny door, slamming behind me. I pull the diving mask off my neck, strapping it back into place.

“Wait, no, June, don’t.” Charlie tugs on my arm, but I shrug her off.

“Just don’t fucking shoot at me, asshole.”

Charlie stares at me, clearly shocked by my vocabulary.

Worth it.

I grip the hot railing tight as I step up onto it, the harpoon in the other hand. Finally, I straighten, eyeing the three fins now bobbing around the two men.

“June!” Charlie yells. “Be careful.”

“Like you care.” I launch off the side of the boat, splashing into the water, slicing through it as fast as I can, harpoon in my fist.

This might be the stupidest thing I’ve done yet today.

I’m going for a new record. Good for me.

Not only is there a chance harpooning one of the sharks will cause a massive frenzy, making the situation more dangerous, but there’s also a chance one will attack me.

Too late now!

My arms cut through the water, legs propelling me on a burst of energy I could’ve sworn I ran out of. Lactic acid builds up, burning my thighs and calves. I push the pain out of my mind.

Fuck this. Fuck Pierce. Fuck the damn sharks and fuck the smugglers.

I focus on the anger, on all that hot resentment building inside me.

Fuck Charlie for lying to me. Fuck my dad for lying to me.

Fuck ‘em all.

The water is choppier now, the wind kicking up the waves. I cut through them, trying not to grind the snorkel to bits in my mouth. A deep inhalation brings saltwater into my lungs, and I blow out fiercely.

Seconds seem to turn to days.

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