Page 35 of The Most Dangerous Games

Luca runs even harder through sand almost white enough to be the color of snow, staring up at the mountain as if the pot of gold is waiting for him up there.

I can win this.

I can make my son proud of me again.

26.

Chile

Jack has been in firefights that felt easier than this.

Underwater, everything is slowed—movement, sound, time itself.

Jack and Jimmy surface only when they have to, careful and quiet, then slip under again like they’re trying not to make a sound.

For a few minutes the big tiger tracks them at a distance, patient. Curious. Like it’s deciding whether they’re worth the effort.

They’ve been well underneath the surface for the past few minutes, only coming up—carefully—to breathe before submerging themselves all over again.

Jimmy motions with one hand: up.

Maybe he’s decided that’s a better plan than engaging the shark, one of them being forced to deliver the blow Jack had been preparing himself for, the punch he was ready to throw as a last resort.

For now the shark hasn’t gotten any closer, almost swimming parallel to them, not changing direction or picking up speed.

Not yet, anyway.

When their heads break the water, Jack can see the shark’s dorsal fin breaking the water, too.

Now it’s moving in their direction, the fin acting as a pointer.

“What do we do?” Jack asks.

“The backstroke,” Jimmy says, trying to appear calmer than he really is. “Backstroke our way all the way to shore if we have to.” He pauses and says, “At least theoretically.”

Jack gives him a look.

“No eye contact with the beast,” he says. “So to speak.”

Jack says, “You know they’re way more likely to attack in shallow water? You do know that, right?”

“Would you rather hang around here and take our chances that he’ll play more fair?” Jimmy says.

Jack knows he’s right. If they can get close to shore while the shark is still keeping its distance, they can finally get to their feet and make a run for it.

Not much of a plan, Jack thinks.

But best we’ve got.

“Don’t splash. Don’t stare at him. Just move.” Jimmy shrugs. “Then we figure out how we get everybody else back.”

They roll onto their backs and start pulling water, slow and steady. The sky above them is too blue for what’s happening underneath.

They swim side by side on their backs, both moving in slow motion across the waters of the Pacific, away from the ship. Still managing to keep their distance from the shark, who somehow seems as patient as Jimmy is, despite the clear and present danger.

Jack turns his head enough to see the dorsal fin, trailing just slightly, looking like an up periscope.

It stays with them.