of the aquarium entrance. Hugh was showing the others the new mini-pocketknife tool his mother had sent. It had arrived that day at the aquarium. Hugh had told his mother during a recent phone conversation that he’d lost his other pocketknife tool earlier in the summer. He left out the part about how it was lost—taken from him by Marsh’s thugs.
Tristan wasn’t really watching or listening to Hugh. He was more interested in the arriving guests, marveling at the diversity of attendees and their varied attire. Some men had on expensive-looking dark suits. Others were dressed less formally. One guy had on jeans and a Hawaiian shirt. Another man was dressed like he was going on safari or something, clad entirely in khaki. Tristan thought he looked familiar. Many of the women were outfitted in short black dresses. A few had on long, sparkly gowns, and one lady was wrapped in a glittering sarong. A heavily bearded man then approached the entrance. He was encased in dark robes, wore a long matching scarf headdress, and was closely followed by an entourage of at least six men. When he reached the door, the man waited for one of his followers to open it. Just before he went in, the robed man turned. He stared right at Tristan—or at least it seemed that way. Tristan swiftly averted his eyes. When he looked back, the man was gone.
Just then, Pete came running out of the aquarium. He wore a wrinkled tuxedo and was breathing heavily. “There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you—wanted to catch you before you headed back to the house.”
“Who are they?” Tristan asked, nodding to the still-arriving guests.
“Executives from aquariums and parks around the world,” Pete answered. “They’re here for a conference on rescue techniques and breeding for conservation, and to hear about our work to create international standards for the collecting and keeping of animals. We work very hard and spend tons of money to make sure that our animals are well fed, live in clean water, and have enough room to swim around. But that’s not true in many places in the world. Animals are kept in tiny tanks with poor water quality and fed nutritionless junk. Two dolphins were recently rescued from a tiny pool in a theme park in Asia. It was full of murky, brown water, and the dolphins were sick, probably dying. We’re really trying to prevent that sort of thing from happening, along with stopping pirate fishing and collecting.”
“What’s that?” Hugh asked.
“Fishing or collecting of marine life that’s done illegally. It’s a huge global issue, but don’t get me started on that or we’ll be here forever. About tonight—everyone’s tied up at the event. So you’re on your own. Okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” Ryder answered, a little too quickly.
Pete eyed him and the others warily. “There’s a great pizza place just down the road.” He reached into his pocket and handed Sam a credit card. “Grab dinner and then head back to the house. Watch a movie or some television. Just keep a low profile—and whatever you do, stay away from the water.”
“No problem, sir,” Hugh told him.
“Dude, it’s not like we’re little kids,” Ryder added. “We know how to take care of ourselves. You should have seen some of the things we did earlier this summer.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard. That’s what worries me,” Pete responded. “Look, have a good night off and just don’t do anything stupid.” He then jogged back into the aquarium.
“Why do adults always say that?” Tristan said. “We haven’t done anything stupid yet. Well, at least that I can think of.”
The others shook their heads.
Tristan decided it must be a grown-up thing to worry so much. He followed the others as they walked down the road. It was their first night free and their first time without any adult supervision since arriving in Monterey. They found the pizza place and went in. It was among the many restaurants, shops, and hotels lining the road that led away from the aquarium—the famous Cannery Row. The converted sardine processing factories now hosted the trendiest places in town.
After dinner, the group began walking back to the aquarium. From there it was just a few blocks north to Pete’s house. Ryder stopped and stared across the street at a small park and, beyond it, the dark waters of Monterey Bay. He raised an eyebrow mischievously. “Hey, let’s go for a swim.”
The other teens turned to where he was looking.
“Now? Out there? In the dark? Are you crazy?” Hugh said. “Besides, Pete said to go back to the house.”
“Exactly. Like, do you always do what people tell you to?” Ryder jeered. “Are you scared, Hugh?” He turned to Tristan. “How about you? Are you afraid too, shark boy?”
“No, I’m not afraid.”
“C’mon, then. Heard great whites swim around here,” Ryder taunted. “I dare you.”
“We’ve been in the ocean at night before,” Tristan countered. “And it was during a hurricane.”
“Then it shouldn’t be a problem. Or are you now afraid of the dark?”
The other teens watched Tristan, waiting for his response.
Hugh whispered, “Don’t do it.”
“Wimp!” Ryder exclaimed. “I’m going in.” He jogged across the street.
Tristan hesitated but then chased after him. He could only take so much of Ryder’s bluster. Besides, he didn’t want the others to think he was scared or anything. With the exception of Ryder, they often looked to him for leadership. And if Tristan was going to be a good leader, he needed to be brave. Besides, he could just jump in, swim a little way out, and then get out. It was dark down by the water, so no one would see them, and if a shark came by, he’d just talk to it. He’d gotten pretty good at the swimming-fast-and-talking-to-sharks thing. What could go wrong?
The other teens followed as the two boys ran through the small park to a flight of stairs leading to a sandy beach. It was nestled between rocky outcrops at the base of a waterfront hotel and a restaurant on Cannery Row. The campers stayed in the shadows as much as possible.
As the group gathered at the ocean’s edge, Ryder sat down on a rock and began taking off his sneakers. “So, who’s going in?”
Hugh shook his head and glared disapprovingly at Tristan.
Tristan ignored Hugh and began to undo his laces. “C’mon. We’ll just jump in, swim out, and then come back. No big deal.”
Sam nodded and started to take off her shoes. “I’ll go with you, Tristan.”
Rosina seemed to consider joining them, but then she felt the water. “Nope, no way.”
“Wuss!” Ryder announced.
“You’d better take one of these,” Hugh said, handing Tristan, Ryder, and Sam each a red, rubbery pill from a plastic bag in his backpack.
Tristan and Ryder began pulling off their jeans. Rosina snickered. Sam had gone silent, obviously realizing she, too, was going to have to strip down to her underwear if she was really going in.
Minutes later, Sam, Tristan, and Ryder stood on the beach staring at the dark water, shivering. The air was cool and smelled of seaweed. Small waves lapped the shore. It was a calm night with almost no moon, even darker than usual. And except for a periodic loud laugh or the distant noise of people on Cannery Row, it was quiet.
“Chickening out?” Ryder asked.
Tristan turned to him. “No. Are you?”
“Like, no way.”
Together they raced into the cold, dark water.
“I have a feeling I’m going to regret this,” Sam said, before running to dive in behind them.
Almost immediately, their hands and feet became webbed. Tristan put his hands out in front of him and zoomed ahead. He was still the fastest swimmer. But the water was so dark he could hardly see his outstretched hands.