[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

 I don t drink milk, Tuck said. Ha! Won that round.
 That what he say.
 Roberto does not talk!
 Not to you, dog fucker. You no&  Kimi paused in mid-rant and re-
trieved the coffee can, which had been tied to the boat with a string, and
started furiously scooping water out of the boat.  You right. Now we bail.
 What? Tuck looked up to see Kimi was looking, wide-eyed, out to sea.
Tuck followed his gaze to a spot twenty yards in front of the boat where a
triangular fin was describing slow arcs in the swells.
 Hurry, Kimi shouted.  He coming in.
Tucker reached for his pack, causing the bow to dip under the water by
a foot. Before he could adjust his weight to counterbalance the boat, the
shark came over the gunwale, snapping its jaws like a man-eating puppet.
Tuck stood up to escape the jaws and the bow lurched deeper underwater.
The shark slid into the boat as Tuck went backward over the side.
Fear bolted through his body as if the water had been electrified.
78 / Christopher Moore
He wanted to move in all directions at once. He kicked hard and came up
a few feet from the boat to see the shark slide back into the water.
 Get in boat! Kimi screamed. He was standing with his feet wide, trying
to keep the boat from capsizing.
Tuck kicked so hard that he raised out of the water to the waist, then he
fell toward the boat, catching the gunwale with one hand. Kimi shifted his
weight to counterbalance and Tuck pulled himself in just as something hit
his foot. He jerked his foot so hard he nearly went out of the boat on the
opposite side, then he twisted in time to see the shark sliding down into
the water with his shoe in its mouth.
 Behind you! Kimi screamed.
Another shark rose up at Tuck s back. He swung around and punched
it on the snout as hard as he could, taking the skin off of his knuckles on
the shark s sandpaper skin. The shark slid away.
The motion in the bow caused the stern to dip underwater and the next
attack came at Kimi. He tossed Roberto into the air as the shark came into
the boat. Roberto spread his wings and soared into the sky. Kimi reached
down and came up with the rubber fuel line.
Tucker looked for anything they could use as a weapon, then remembered
the folding knife he had put in his pocket the night before. It was still there.
Kimi was slapping the shark with the rubber hose and backing his way
up onto the huge gas tank that made up the midsection of the boat. Tuck
opened the knife, then lunged forward at the navigator.  Kimi!
Kimi reached back and Tuck fit the handle of the knife into his hand.
The shark had worked half of its nine-foot body into the boat. Its tail
thrashed at the water to power the shark up onto the gas tank. Kimi
scrambled backward. Roberto swooped and screeched in the air above.
Kimi s right foot found purchase on the screw cap of the gas tank and
he sat up. Tuck thought he was going to strike the shark with the knife,
but instead he cut the gas line and squirted a stream of gas into the shark s
gaping mouth. The shark thrashed and slid off the side of the boat.
Kimi brandished the knife in the air.  Yeah, fuckface, you run away. That
not taste so sweet as Kimi, huh? He fell back onto the gas tank and took
a deep breath.  We show that shark who the boss.
Tuck said,  Kimi, there s more. He pointed to set of fins approaching
from the stern.
20
Leadership s a Bitch
The storm had been easy on the Shark People. A little thatch lost from a
roof here and there, a cookhouse blown over, some breadfruit and coconuts
stripped from the trees, but not enough to cause hardship. Some seawater
had washed into the taro patch, but only time would tell if it was enough
to kill the crop. The Shark People went slowly about the business of
cleaning up, the women doing most of the work while the men sat in the
shade of the men s house, drinking alcoholic tuba and pretending to discuss
important religious matters. Mainly they were there to pass the heat of the
day and get good and drunk before dinner.
Malink, the high chief of the Shark People, was late rising. He awoke
shivering and afraid, trying to figure out how to interpret a strange dream.
He rolled off of his grass sleeping mat, then rose creakily and ambled out
of the hut to relieve himself at the base of a giant breadfruit tree.
He was a short, powerfully built man of sixty. His hair was bushy and
gone completely white. His skin, once a light butterscotch, had been burned
over the years to the dark brown of a tarnished penny. Like most of the
Shark men, he wore only a cotton loincloth and a wreath of fresh flowers
in his hair (left there by one of his four daughters while he slept). The image
of a shark was tattooed on his left pectoral muscle, a B-26 bomber on the
other. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]