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Ben swam out into the centre of the pool, away from the motorboat, clutching the tooth-claw’s handle as tightly as he could. He was still unable to see the shark, so he began to slowly rotate, treading water, bracing himself for the inevitable attack. He remembered what Ho had said, about diving beneath the shark and opening up its belly on the first pass. A one-shot deal.
Jo saw it first.
The dorsal fin surfaced forty feet away from Ben to his rear. Her muffled screams weren't enough to alert him though, as the fin closed in. She began to twist and thrash on the rope like a fish caught on a line. Ben finally looked up and saw her frantic expression, her terrified eyes focused on something behind him. He turned and caught sight of the fin disappearing, as the shark began to dive beneath the water.
Ben calmly stared straight ahead with dead eyes. He took a deep breath and sank beneath the surface. Once under the water, he opened his eyes again to see a large black shape gliding towards him. It seemed to hang in the water just above him, its silhouette illuminated by the line of flaming torches around the pool. The tiger cruised straight towards him, its motives clear. Ben used his arms to push himself lower and lower as it approached. When the charge came, he dived as low as he could, and reached up towards the advancing tiger's belly with the outstretched claw. He thrust the claw upwards and watched the shark’s skin part and open up to cloud the water with blood.
*
For what seemed like an age, there was no sound or movement on the surface; nothing but the sound of still black waters gently lapping against the cave’s edge. Henry Ho and Olander looked into the black water, then up at Jo to see if she could spot anything from her position, and finally at each other.
Nothing.
Ben burst from the surface, twisting and thrashing against something, as the waters around him began to churn. The townsfolk watched eagerly from the sides of the cave, wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the struggle between man and shark. Only Ho looked on with cool composure; he'd seen this contest before, and up close too, besides, he had his position in the town to uphold.
Then the flailing and the splashing stopped. The surface of the tumultuous waters settled again. Jo looked down from her elevated vantage point. The only trace of the confrontation was a deeper shade of darkness spreading through the pool. She stared blankly at the growing cloud of red. Fresh tears rolled down her already tear-streaked face. Henry Ho and Olander floated through the aftermath, peering over the boat’s side for some solid evidence of the final outcome.
Ben broke the surface of the water near the boat and gasped for air, before sinking beneath again. Moments later, he appeared again further away and flailed towards the boat. Olander aimed for him and motored in.
The residents of Sweetwater stared in disbelief, as Ben splashed towards the side of the boat and was hauled aboard by Ho and Olander. As they pulled him in, Jo could see that it wasn’t an outright victory, and her heart sank. Ben’s remaining right leg had been severed cleanly just below the knee. She began to sob. Olander and Ho rolled Ben on to his back and leaned over him. Blood was pumping from the fresh stump where his leg had been. Olander took off his over-shirt and twisted it into a makeshift tourniquet. He tied it around Ben’s lower thigh as tightly as he could, making him moan.
Henry Ho leaned in close to Ben’s coughing, ghostly-white face. Ben’s eyes fluttered, as he battled to remain conscious. Ho’s own eyes were now wide and awestruck. He looked like a man who’d just rediscovered his faith.
“You did it,” he said. “You’re the first...the only.”
Ben tried to speak, but the words seemed to fail on his lips. Ho turned his head and leaned in closer still.
Nothing.
Then Ho slowly dropped his gaze to see the shark tooth-claw pressed against his throat.
“Cut her down,” whispered Ben.
The two men stared at each other. Ben’s eyes were clear and adamant despite his injury. Ben pushed the tooth-claw into Ho’s skin, and it gave without effort. A line of warm red seeped down against Ho's throat to stain his chest. Panic flushed through the older man’s features.
“Let her down into the boat!” he shouted.
Olander stared at Ho and the weapon held against his throat. He then turned the rudder and throttled forwards to place them directly underneath Jo. Ho turned to the two townsfolk manning the pulley ropes.
“Let her down easy,” he called.
The two townsmen took the strain on Jo’s rope and began to let it out slowly.
Ben struggled to maintain his stare with Ho. The other man’s eyes were watching him closely, waiting for a moment of weakness. Jo was slowly lowered down towards the boat as it began to drift. Ben forced the tooth-claw higher against Ho’s throat, as Olander reached up and guided her in. More blood streamed down the Polynesian’s neck.
“Easy...” said Ben.
Ho's eyes were full of real fear now.
“Easy with her!” he shouted. “Cut her down.”
Olander stared at Ben and Ho again, carefully considering his next move. He looked down at Ben’s leg. It was still bleeding out, despite the tourniquet.
“I won’t ask again,” said Ben.
“Now!” snapped Ho.
Olander reluctantly sliced through Jo’s bonds and helped her down into the boat. She immediately ripped the masking tape from her mouth and heaved a sigh of relief. She then backed away from Olander, still keeping her eyes on him. Once over by Ben and Ho, she chanced a glance down at his missing legs. Her spirits crumbled.
“Oh...Baby...”
Ben looked away, over at Olander. He twisted the claw against Ho's neck to make sure the fisherman got another good look at it.
“Take a dip,” he said. “And tell them to raise the net.”
Olander stared back with contempt. He started towards Ben, but Ho glared at him and snarled.
“Don’t you fucking dare Bill...”
Olander halted as told and gave Ben a surly look. He then took an even longer look at the bloodied waters around them, before reluctantly climbing overboard. He surfaced several feet away, snorted and wiped his face clean with his hands. His eyes darted around the pool, as he turned around in jerky movements, hoping the shark he'd lured into the cave really was dead. He then began swimming for the side of the cave and dry land.
Ben looked at the other townsfolk and then Ho. Both men were sweating.
“Tell them,” said Ben. His words were dry, and his skin was pale.
Ho looked at the townsfolk without moving his head and called to them.
“Raise the nets.”
One of the men ambled over to hoist the net rope that was tied off near the sea cave's entrance, his eyes still fixed on the motorboat. He reluctantly began to pull on the rope and raise the fishing net.
Ben looked at Jo. She stared down at his now grey face with disbelief. She tried to speak.
“I...I...”
“Take us out baby,” he said. “Go on. It’ll be OK.”
Jo took the rudder and accelerated out towards the mouth of the cave. Ho watched Ben’s eyes begin to close, as he continued to lose blood and the fight to stay awake.
Ben felt Ho move. He gritted his teeth and forced his eyes open again. Ho froze. He looked down at the severed stump which was still bleeding profusely. He then looked back at Ben with a wry smile.
Ben fought to keep the other man in focus. He swallowed hard. The motorboat cut towards the growing cave mouth and the open sea beyond. Jo watched the nets there rise like some bizarre, nautical theatre curtain as they approached.
Ho continued to watch Ben closely as he ebbed away, waiting like a grinning scavenger, amused by the inevitable demise of his injured prey.
Ben’s eyelids were almost closed now.
“You won’t get far,” said Ho.
Ben’s eyes opened again, as if he was given a shot of adrenaline.
“Tell me something,” said Ben. “If it’s your ancestors’ ritual, why didn’t you ever fight for the town?”
“Me?” said Ho. “Go in there? Are you kidding?”
Ho began to laugh, almost hysterically. Ben saw the funny side and smiled too. Jo just stared at the two men as if they were both crazy.
The motorboat chugged out through the mouth of the cave as Sweetwater’s townsfolk looked on from the water’s edge with sullen faces. The boat finally cleared the cave and headed out on to the sea, as dusk devoured the last of the day.
Ben smiled serenely at Ho. He nodded, as his adversary's laugh slowly begin to die out. Henry Ho’s face then darkened with the dawning of a terrible realization. In that moment he realized that, despite all his scheming and manipulating, he would never live to see Sweetwater rise from its watery grave and prosper again.
Ben’s smile faded too. At last, the two men understood each other. He flicked the claw away from Ho, opening up the other man’s throat in the process.
A hissing arc of blood sprayed into the air, as Ho grabbed his throat in surprise. He stared at Ben with bulging eyes and managed to shake his head once, then slumped forwards and slipped head-first over the side and into the ocean.
Ben sighed with relief and dropped the claw. He looked at Jo. She took his hand and held it, smiling back at him with bright, loving eyes in the half-light.
The motorboat began to rise and fall, riding further out into the choppier waters of the open sea. Jo sat at the stern. Her eyes were now fixed dead ahead, on the sun as it sank against the darkening horizon. Her expression was gentle, timeless.
Ben's eyes stared at the setting sun too. He looked as peaceful as any man could ever hope to be. He was no longer burdened by the fear and guilt that had plagued him for so long.
He was simply not afraid anymore.
Ben and Jo finally left Sweetwater; tiny figures set against the raw power of the infinite ocean and the ancient coastline that had once trapped them.
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THE END