He walked carefully along the log and came to the first — it was about 15 feet high before it broke off, and as thick around as his waist. He’d need an axe to chop through it. Further down, there were smaller ones, but that was where the end of the mighty tree got thinner, and therefore its buoyancy was reduced — and that meant the entire log was lower in the water.
“Oh boy,” he whispered.
The sea around him was deep blue, and shafts of light vanished into it for perhaps a few dozen feet. Below that, it turned to ink. But he knew from below, up here in the sunshine he stood out clearly even from the depths. That meant anything down there could see him long before he got to see it.
Andy braced his feet and stared at the spray of branches. There were a couple of longer ones that were thinner half way up, and maybe he could at least snap them off.
The log bobbed in the dark blue water and seemed to be stationary even though he knew they were drifting fast now in some sort of sea current. He looked from the water to the branches again and mentally calculated how much time it would take to get there, snap one off, and then scurry back.
“Seconds,” he whispered.
“Gluck.”
The small flying reptile was watching him keenly, and it didn’t look happy. Andy took a few steps.
“Please don’t do it.”
There was no doubt that the pterosaur was calling him back.
“Yeah, I hear you.” He blew air through his lips. “But I’ll be greased lightning, I promise.”
He widened his stance, getting ready to run toward his target branch. In his mind, he saw it all in slow motion — him darting forward, snapping the limb off, and being back before anything was the wiser.
“You’ll never make it. Ple-eeease don’t, Andy!”
“Shush.” He turned and put a finger to his lips. “Just keep a lookout for me okay, little buddy?” He drew in a breath and felt the knot of nervousness in his empty belly.
“Ready, set… go.” He sprinted forward.
The log surface was sun-dried and traction was good. He only had to travel about 15 feet to the first large branch, dodge around it, and then run another 10 feet or so to his destination branch.
At the first massive limb, he slowed, turned his back to it, and edged around it. He slipped a little as the curve of the log was closer to the waterline, meaning it had become a little more waterlogged and greasy.
But just as he came back up to the top, the creature exploded from the water. Andy screamed and stumbled back to the top, but way too fast. He went over the other side.
In seconds, he was spluttering on the surface and looking up at the top of the branch some four feet above him and too high and steep to climb. Up there, the mosasaur hung, having come right up out of the water to get at him. Its massive seal-like body writhed and thrashed as it looked to either roll back into the water or keep going to get to Andy over the top.
Andy gave up the idea of trying to climb back up here and swam to the root ball at the rear. The predator curled its body and with a thunderous splash, flipped back into the water on the other side, making the massive log bob up and down half a dozen feet in the water
Now, it and Andy were both in the monster’s domain. But fear gave him energy and he was in among the roots in seconds. He didn’t stop as he then clambered back up into his root cockpit, cutting and grazing himself in his haste.
“Fuck.” He lay back, breathing hard. The small pterosaur hopped up onto his leg and actually pecked his thigh.
“Ouch.”
He looked down at the tiny creature as it turned one tiny red eye on him. Andy continued to suck in deep breaths as his heart raced in his chest.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, you told me so.”
Andy pushed the wet hair back off his face and looked about. The land seemed even further away. “This might not have been a good idea after all.”
Andy turned toward the branches, knowing now that getting one was an option that was never going to materialize. He needed another plan, he needed something, anything, and even a little luck would do.
He continued to stare at the branches. “You know what they say? Necessity is the mother of invention.” He looked down at the small flying reptile. “So, all I need is a chainsaw, 50 feet of soft rope, and an outboard motor, and we’d be outta here, little buddy.”
He smiled, sighed, and then rested his forearms on his knees. In the distance, there was a smudge on the horizon, and the hint of a cool breeze kicked up to gently ruffle the surface of the sea.
He groaned, knowing exactly what that could mean. “Not good. Very not good.” He rubbed both hands up through his long hair and leant back. “I need to think about this while I’ve still got a little bit of time.” His adrenaline had now leaked from his body, leaving him bone tired and feeling a little sick.
Andy tilted his head back and closed gritty eyes; the sun was warm and dappled on his face as it worked its way through the root canopy and into his skin.
After another moment, he dozed.
CHAPTER 29
Gil stood at the river mouth where the warm water was shallow and there was about another dozen feet to go before the deeper water of the channel drop off. It was just coming on dawn, and he was first out, pegging out the best fishing spot.
Even though there was still a slight chill in the dawn air, he was in his new trout fishing pants and warm as toast. He hummed softly as thoughts of his struggling hardware business were far, far away.
Where he fished, the river emptied out into the ocean, and the tidal flats were just flooding as the tide came in again. The sprats shot across the surface, and soon, the bigger species like sheepshead, snook, and sea trout would follow them in as the water deepened. He might even snag a lemon shark, which always made for a good tale back home.
He had his net at his waist, and even though the water came to just above his knees, he felt now that the sun was coming up he could probably work his way a little closer to the channel.
Gil knew he could stick to fishing shallow and was sure to pick up a flounder or two, but he thought they were a bastard to eat — every time he flipped one over on his plate, he ended up with a shirt front covered in lemon and butter. Tasty though.
Gil blinked as the lights went out and he looked over his shoulder but there was nothing at all around him as if he had been dropped into the depths of space. Just as he turned his face to the sky, everything came back to normal.
“Well.” He snorted softly. “Don’t tell my doctor.”
He reeled his line in, walked further out toward the deep channel, and recast. He had a good-sized bit of fish bait on a razor hook, and he kept his fingers lightly on the line, sensitive to every tap, bump, and tiniest of vibrations — after many years of fishing, by feel alone, Gil could tell the difference between the sea bottom, weed, and a fish nibble — and most times, he could even tell what sort of fish was doing the nibbling.
The line suddenly got heavy. “Whoa there.”
Gil reeled in, but the line stopped dead. “What the hell?” He clicked his tongue in his cheek at the thought of maybe getting himself hooked up on a snag — sunken log probably. There’d been some rain a few weeks back, and maybe something washed down the river and was stuck on the bottom.