The Call by Michael Grant Page B

air from his lungs. Hard enough to sting. It felt like a really bad session of dodgeball.
    He plunged deep. Deeper than he’d ever been in a swimming pool. Down and down, and it seemed like he would never stop.
    He kicked and thrashed and headed for the surface, which was a silvery barrier so very high above him.
    Lungs screaming, heart pounding, he went up and up, but sooooo veeeeery slooowly.
    Then, all at once, his head was out of the water andhe sucked in warm, damp air.
    Stefan was treading water close by. “Dude—we just fell out of a plane and we’re still alive!”
    â€œBut we’re in the ocean!” Mack cried.
    â€œNo big deal. The water’s not that cold.”
    â€œIt’s still the ocean. The ocean !”
    â€œIt’s just water, man. Chill. What are you so scared of?” Stefan asked.
    â€œThat!” Mack said, and pointed.
    He pointed at the gray, triangular fin that sliced through the water, turned, and came straight for him.
    ----
    D EAR M ACK ,
    I AM SORRY ABOUT …W ELL, YOU’LL SEE WHEN YOU GET BACK . I TRIED TO TEXT YOU, BUT I GUESS YOU WERE BUSY OR DIDN’T HAVE A SIGNAL . A NYWAY, DON’T WORRY : IT’S TOO LATE NOW .
    Y OUR FRIEND ,
G OLEM
----

Eighteen
    â€œR et click-ur!”
    Mack yelled it and got a mouthful of salt water.
    He yelled it again.
    But the shark fin kept coming. Nothing stopped. Nothing changed.
    â€œHuh,” Stefan remarked.
    â€œAaaaaah!” Mack cried. He’d always known it would end this way.
    The fin disappeared beneath a swell that lifted Mack up like a cork. He felt something big brush against him. It turned him around. He cried out in terror and started swimming, splashing, heedless of direction so long as it was away.
    But then the fin! It was in front of him. Coming straight at him, fast, fast, so fast!
    Then the shark rolled over onto its side. Mack was staring straight into the shark’s evil eye.
    Only it didn’t look evil. And instead of a huge gaping mouth full of razor-tipped teeth, Mack saw a quirky smile.
    It took several seconds for the truth to percolate through Mack’s brain. It was not a shark.
    â€œIt’s a dolphin,” Mack yelled to Stefan.
    Stefan yelled back, “Sharks are way cooler.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œDidn’t you ever see Megashark vs. Giant Octopus ? That was so cool the way the shark, like, ate that whole bridge.”
    Not for the last time, Mack wondered if he and Stefan were even from the same planet.
    Then something much bigger than the dolphinappeared. A vast white sail. It was closer to Stefan than to Mack. They both started shouting and yelling.
    Stefan yelled, “Yo!”
    Mack yelled, “Save me! Save me! Help! For the love of God rescue me!”
    The sail—they couldn’t see the actual boat because it was hidden by the swells—suddenly collapsed. And then they could see the boat itself, the blue hull with chrome railings. It was turning toward them, slowing but coming closer.
    A man stood at the wheel. He was barely visible in the dim light, but Mack could see the glow of a cigar.
    They swam hard for the boat, which was now just a few dozen yards away. Mack was pretty sure he would be chomped by a shark before he could get aboard. But he was going to give it a try.
    The man came to the rail and tossed them a rope. Stefan grabbed it and carried it to Mack, who clutched it like it was his last hope of life. Which it probably was.
    A minute later they were hauled up the side and stood, wet and shaky but definitely alive, on the teak deck of the sailboat.
    â€œOut for a swim, then?” the man asked, in what Mack assumed was an Australian accent.
    Mack stared at him.
    â€œBit of a haul to Sydney Harbour, mate,” the man said.
    â€œYes,” Mack said, spitting out salt water. “I guess we didn’t think it through.”
    â€œWell, you’re young,” the man said. “We were all young