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Henry Ho led the way as they wound down through the subterranean rock passageway. The chiseled steps eventually gave way to just a roughly inclined tunnel, as if a lower, older passage existed long before it was extended to reach the hotel above it. As they sank deeper into the side of the cliff, the sloping, dank passage became wetter. Water bled from the porous rock and ran down the walls and dripped on to them from the ceiling above. The wind howled up through the tunnel to greet them, making the flames on Henry Ho's torch flutter and dance. And all the time the sound of the sea swell lingered in the distance below them.
*
Red water slapped against the side of the motorboat’s hull, as Olander looked up from his chumming duties. He watched the red sun on the horizon slowly begin to set. He then turned and looked at the light gradually retreating from the shadows over Sweetwater's cliffs. Ho’s Palace was now just a dark, reddening shape on the cliff tops against the approaching dusk.
Olander dug his trowel deep into a large plastic tub and shoveled the bloody contents over the side. He then opened up the throttle and steered the motorboat back towards the jagged cliffs beneath the hotel.
*
Ben followed Henry Ho through the underground passageway as it leveled off and opened out into a huge, round cave beneath the cliffs. The sea had found its way in here too through the cave’s mouth and deep black water filled the centre, forming a foreboding, dark underground pool. Ho moved carefully along the edge of the water on a wide ledge of rock that surrounded the pool, lighting more torches suspended in iron brackets fixed to the cave walls. Ben and Angie Ho lingered near the passageway’s entrance, as Henry Ho backtracked to the other side of the pool, lighting the remaining torches - more than two dozen in all. The fires gradually illuminated the cavern, and added a ceremonial, almost medieval air to the proceedings.
Ben looked out to sea through the cave's mouth. A small motorboat with a lone figure aboard was slowly chugging towards the cave through calm seas and failing light. Ho lit the last torch and placed his own into an empty wall bracket next to the tunnel's entrance. He returned to stand next to Ben, looking smug and pious in his ceremonial headdress.
Ben’s eyes fixed on the ceiling at the centre of the now fully lit cave. Jo was there, suspended above the pool by a rope, which fed back along the roof of the cave to a pulley system on the far side of the ledge. Jo was tightly bound and gagged. Even at hundred feet in this poor light, Ben could clearly make out her wide, terrified eyes pleading to him.
Ben fought to control his emotions. He was flushed with relief and hope at seeing Jo alive, but the feeling was tempered by his growing fear for both of them after Ho’s speech. He knew what Ho wanted from him in return for Jo’s life, and as insane as it sounded, he knew the man was deadly serious. He began to feel sick again. The nausea from his concussion mixed with the thick dread in the pit of his stomach and rose up inside him like black bile. He moaned quietly and leaned back, grabbing at the rock wall to steady himself, as the fear and anxiety turned his stomach. He took a moment to let the nausea subside, and then tried to compose himself. He had to do something now, before the boat was here, before there were too many of them to fight.
He pushed himself off the wall and rushed Henry Ho again. But he was still unsteady on his feet and Angie Ho stepped in to block the attack. She caught Ben and twisted him around, restraining him again with ease.
Henry Ho shook his head, faintly amused.
“You need to stop fighting this and focus on what lies ahead.” he said. “I told you before, it’s not a sacrifice. It’s a duel.”
Ho moved closer and looked at him earnestly.
“It can be done.”
Ben stopped wrestling against Angie Ho and began to listen.
“How much do you love her?” asked Henry Ho.
Ben stared across the water at Jo. Her eyes were on him again, still terrified, still pleading. He began to wonder if he could bring himself to do it.
Something caught Ben’s eye and he turned to see members of the townsfolk solemnly filing out of the passageway he’d taken. They spread out left and right along the water’s edge to slowly fill the cave, until more than forty spectators lined the arc around the submerged gladiatorial arena. He saw Leyton, Harris, Kim, Lonesome, Irma, even old Mrs. Olander; everyone he'd met so far in Sweetwater was present, with the exception of Crazy and Olander. He saw that they now all wore shark tooth pendants around their necks similar to Ho's. They watched him, their faces deadly serious and tight with anticipation. He looked away from the parade of cold stares and focused on Jo instead.
“This is the old way,” said Ho. “It's the natural order of things.”
Ben said nothing, yet his eyes strained to try and communicate everything he felt to the woman he loved. He wanted her to know how much he loved her, that he would do anything for her, and that he would somehow save her from this.
“Your expression of courage will appease the sea. It will bring back life and prosperity to this dead town...”
Henry Ho looked at Ben, then bowed to him.
“...and we will forever honor you.”
Ben heard the chug of a motorboat echo around the cave walls as it approached the arena. He turned to watch it in a queasy daze. Olander slowly guided the motorboat through the mouth of the cave, still lazily chumming the water. He weaved in and around the pool, leaving a slick, winding trail of red behind him.
Ben’s eyes widened in horror, as he caught a glimpse of his intended adversary. A dorsal fin breached and cut through the surface of the water some fifty feet behind Olander’s boat. The tiger shark’s tail snaked and then made a little whip-like movement, as it glided in silently through the mouth of the cave and then submerged into the blackness.
Ben looked around at the line of expectant faces, all lit by the wavering light of the torch flames. They were entranced. He saw two figures move to the mouth of the cave and pull on ropes latched there. Seconds later a weighted fishing net dropped down across the entrance, trapping the shark in the pool.
Ben’s gaze returned to the water, as the fin broke the surface again and started to grimly circle the black pool.
Olander’s boat slowly pulled alongside Ben. Henry Ho held out the shark tooth claw for him to take.
The two men stared at each other.
Ho’s features were cold and expressionless.
“We need calm waters,” he said.
“You're insane,” said Ben, quietly.
“It's you or her,” said Ho. “At least you have a chance. She would have none.”
Tears began to well up in Ben’s eyes as he looked at Jo again.
Henry Ho nodded to another member of the town and the man leaned back on the pulley and let out a little slack on the rope threading back from Jo.
Jo’s body jerked and she let out a muffled scream, as she dropped several feet from the cave’s roof. The line snapped taught again and she dangled helplessly above the black water. She stared down in horror as the dorsal fin cruised beneath her.
“Well?” said Ho.
Ben was hypnotized. He felt as though he was walking through a dream. He’d felt a strange dislocation from reality ever since they’d arrived in Sweetwater, but this was too much for his mind to take. He couldn’t fight it any longer. There was no other way out. He took the claw without a word and walked to the water’s edge. He felt dozens of eyes burn into him as he climbed into the motorboat in a daze. Henry Ho followed him, and they sat together, as the boat motored out towards the centre of the pool.
Ben saw a cruel, dumb expression on Olander’s features that reminded him of blank faced children fascinated with hurting animals. By contrast, Henry Ho had a look of overwhelming pride and majesty. He really believed this shit. Ben noticed the tiger's dorsal fin keeping pace with the boat. He tried to block it out and turned to concentrate on the woman he loved, as she slowly returned to him in the saltwater dungeon. As they drew near, Ben saw the terror in Jo's eyes abate for a moment, as the realization of what he was about to do dawned on her. Then she became desperately animated, shaking her head at him, writhing against the rope, her eyes imploring him not to do it.
He could only stare back with love and resignation.
He loved her.
He had no choice.
Olander cut the engine and let the boat drift to a halt in the centre of the pool, bobbing there on the water like bait. The dorsal fin rose again to cut a wake through the surface and approach the boat. It silently cruised towards them, then veered away at the last minute and broke into a tight circle around the boat. Ben could feel the weight of the townsfolk’s stares on him, but he refused to look at them. He stared up at Jo one more time. His eyes wanted to say it all; what she meant to him, how sorry he was for everything, how she had saved him, and how it was only now that he really knew all of this; but in the end, that desperate desire to tell her everything was all they could communicate.
Ben drew the claw's tooth around the denim covering his leg and sliced it away to reveal the plastic prosthetic beneath. He then cut through the straps and let the imitation leg fall away. At that moment he felt a sensation of lightness; a freedom from the enormous weight of fear and guilt he had learned to carry, freedom from the past, freedom from his old self.
His last look at Ho was almost a grateful one. Unmoved, Henry Ho just nodded curtly, confirming it was time. Ben peered over the side at the black waters lapping against the boat and gripped the woodwork. The dorsal fin was nowhere to be seen now. Ben took a deep breath, closed his eyes and slid down into the water.