Taken With A Grain Of Salt (Salt Series Book 2)

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Taken With A Grain Of Salt (Salt Series Book 2) Page 11

by Aaron Galvin


  Then he heard.

  The currents sang to Garrett. Told him east from west, north from south. The slightest change in temperature whispered how far he need go if desiring air. The pressure around him spoke to the depth at which he hung. More importantly, he knew not one, but two seals swam nearby.

  Garrett opened his eyes and saw them.

  One had a black hide with white circles adorning its back. Another loomed at least ten times the size of the Ringed Seal.

  Garrett keyed on the smaller one—the one daring swim closest to him—and felt his lower body move instinctually, parting the water with ease.

  Buckets a blood…Weava, w-whattaya doin’?

  Garrett heard fear in the voice. It sent a giddy rush through his being. Woke a stronger, primal one deep within him.

  Catch him, the primal voice whispered. If you can…

  Garrett laughed at the small challenge. A shrill call emanated through the water. A second later, he had a clear mental picture in his mind’s eye.

  The bigger seal, a Southern Elephant, dove for deeper waters.

  That’s right. Swim away. Make this fun. Garrett chuckled. Again, a piercing sound echoed away and returned seconds later with a new picture—a boat headed for the shoreline with the lighthouse, a nautical mile away. He knew of other boats, further out, but there all the same.

  How do I know that? Garrett heard his own voice, weak as Lenny’s had been.

  The motors, the stronger, primal voice returned. Can’t you hear them, moving in and out of the harbor?

  Garrett recognized the foreign stirrings did not belong in his watery world. This world belonged to him and his kind.

  Hey, Weava! Can ya hear me in there? It’s me, Lenny!

  The primal mind pushed the voice away. It laughed another shrill call through the water, reverbed away, and returned with a new mental picture. It showed the smallest seal floated near the surface.

  Watching him.

  Waiting.

  Alone.

  A singular thought crossed the primal mind.

  Food.

  LENNY

  Boss, said Paulo. We need to get out of here!

  Lenny tried to wish away the image of the eight-ton animal Garrett Weaver had become.

  Boss…

  Shuddup, Paulie. I got this.

  No, you don’t, said Paulo. He’s too far gone. Let’s go!

  I’m not goin’ anywhere. Lenny focused on the Killer Whale, its locked gaze, tail swishing up and down. Lenny tried to recall the first time he had changed, the feeling of another mind inside his own, wrestling for control.

  Weava! Can ya hear me in there? It’s me, Lenny!

  A shrill call pulsed through the waters around him.

  Boss, did he just—

  Echolocate, Lenny finished. Yeah.

  The Ringed Seal’s mind begged Lenny to swim away from one of the Salt’s deadliest predators. He fought off the impulse.

  He’s gone, Len, said Paulo. The Orc mind’s taken over.

  No! I can get him back.

  You’re only a seal to him now, said Paulo. What if he eats you?

  Lenny shuddered as he stared down the animal fifty times his size. He snorted. Focused his mind on the human image of Garrett. Listen to me, Weava. Ya gotta control ya Orc mind! Ya still ya’self in there. Don’t forget—

  Swim fast, little seal, said Garrett, his voice cold. Primal.

  The Killer Whale shot forward, crossing the distance in seconds. Its mouth yawned wide.

  Lenny dove.

  The Killer Whale surged above him. Its wake tugged at Lenny’s body. It took all his strength to fight for deeper water.

  Lenny kicked harder. Paulie. Little help here!

  What am I supposed to do?

  We gotta hand him off, said Lenny. Tire him out.

  Orcs are seawolves. Paulo mocked. You don’t just tire them out, Len!

  Lenny tilted his head, tipped his fore flippers downward, careened through the water with the Killer Whale close behind.

  I’m on my way back up, boss.

  Lenny felt his hind flippers tire. Knew the Killer Whale gained on him with each passing moment. Ya neva gonna be big, son. Lenny recalled another of his father’s mantras. So ya gotta be fasta or smarta if ya wanna survive.

  Lenny angled his nose up and rocketed toward the surface. He shot out of the water in an arcing leap with the Killer Whale right behind. Lenny tucked his head the moment he reentered, somersaulting his body.

  The Killer Whale’s speed carried it over him, missed.

  Move, Len! Move! He reminded his flippers as the Killer Whale circled wide.

  The waters pulsed with echolocation. A second later, Lenny heard chuckling in his mind. He spun and saw the giant swimming straight at him. Lenny’s seal instincts urged him dive.

  Patience…He recalled his father’s first rule.

  The Killer Whale never slowed.

  Now!

  Lenny dove. His hind flippers brushed the Killer Whale’s jaw as the predator again shot overtop him. Again, Lenny felt the tug of the Killer Whale’s wake and fought to swim free of it. He heard it shriek at the near miss. The noise pulsed through Lenny’s mind. His seal body felt sluggish, its motor skills dulled by the echolocation. Wake up, Weava!

  I see you! Garrett’s primal voice taunted Lenny, hidden in the dark waters but growing louder.

  Control its mind, Weava. Lenny watched his fate slice through the water, bound directly for him. Control it!

  The Killer Whale opened its mouth.

  The ascending Southern Elephant Seal closed it, like a boxer connecting with an uppercut. Wake up, Weaver! Paulo shouted. Boss…

  Lenny felt his senses return. He swam at the Killer Whale, even as it shook off the blow and shifted focus to Paulo. I’m comin’, Paulie. He dodged the Killer Whale’s tail and made for the dorsal fin, nearly as tall as Lenny’s human form.

  Weava, Lenny called out to Garrett’s mind as he struggled to reach the Killer Whale’s grey saddle patch. Just…a bit…furtha…Lenny latched claws sharp enough to hack through glacier ice into the Killer Whale’s dorsal fin.

  The beast screeched in pain. It bucked and spun in an attempt to shake off the pest on its back.

  Ya name’s Garrett Weava! Lenny dug his seal nails in tighter. Now…wake…up!

  Lenny bit into the dorsal fin.

  GARRETT

  Ahh! Garrett screamed.

  He tried in vain to swat at the thing biting his back. More annoying than painful, it refused to go away. Why can’t I reach it? Garrett next attempted craning his neck to see what the thing was. That attempt failed too. Ugh, why does it feel like I’m wearing a neck brace?

  Weava, ya alive in there?

  I know that voice. Garrett’s mind swam with faces. Memories. Lenny? The dwarf…the seal!

  Garrett opened his mouth to speak.

  Salt water filled it.

  Choking, Garrett spat it out.

  Easy, Weava, said Lenny. Calm down before I lose ya again. Listen to my voice and just…picture me in ya head. What I look like.

  Garrett imagined the little man sitting in the raft with him—Lenny’s mop of brown, curly hair, his black hood with white circles on it, and the way he transformed into a seal. Why am I doing this? Garrett thought.

  That’s it. Lenny spoke in Garrett’s mind. Just like that!

  Wha-how did I…you can hear me?

  Betta than that. I can see ya.

  The pain in Garrett’s back ebbed. A moment later, a Ringed Seal swam inches in front of his face, its doe-like eyes inquisitive, head cocked.

  Whoa! Garrett thought. This is so cool! Am I dreaming again?

  The Ringed Seal shook its head. Nah. If ya were, that hot girlfriend a yours woulda been here instead of me.

  Garrett watched the seal give a flick of its foreflippers, swoosh away and perform a pair of backflips. No way, said Garrett. This can’t be real. You can’t be a person and a seal.

  The
seal swam closer. This from the guy who said he couldn’t swim.

  Garrett felt his throat clench. He gagged on more salt water.

  Weava, said Lenny. Ya all right in there?

  A-air. Garrett’s mind spun. N-need a-air.

  He swam for the surface.

  That’s not the way, the primal voice whispered.

  Garrett continued swimming.

  The water’s turned colder, the voice continued. Feel the pressure increasing?

  Garrett slowed at the realization. Though slight, he felt the changes the voice spoke of. Doesn’t matter. He continued swimming in the same direction.

  Weava! Lenny called. Where ya goin’?

  I-I n-need to b-breathe.

  Then ya might wanna surface. Lenny snorted. I hear there’s air up there. Do ya’self a favor and follow Paulie.

  The largest seal Garrett had ever seen ascended from the blackish depths like a giant grey balloon. Hey, Weaver. Paulo’s deep voice echoed in Garrett’s mind. Up is this way.

  Garrett thrashed at the water to follow the seal.

  Lenny’s laughter filled his head. Weava, let ya big animal brain do the swimmin’. It knows where to go.

  But I—

  He’s right, the primal voice said, stronger now. Let me.

  Garrett relaxed as the confidence again washed over him.

  The current song returned. Unlike before, however, Garrett experienced the newness like an equal, felt his mind twin with the primal one. He suddenly knew the ceiling between water and sky existed ten feet in the opposite direction. I’ve been descending the whole time…

  Mmm-hmm, the primal mind calmly agreed. And we don’t need air yet either, but if you insist.

  Garrett angled his nose upward, felt his lower body glide into position. Then he kicked.

  Whoooaaaa! Garrett screamed as he zoomed past both seals and shattered the watery ceiling. He noted the sudden dryness, the foreign atmosphere, and worse, gravity. He twisted to the side and flopped hard back into the ocean, splaying small waves in opposite directions with his massive weight.

  He laughed and heard the shrill call of echolocation again. A second later, a mental picture revealed both seals swimming toward him.

  Ya still ya’self in there, Weava?

  Garrett pictured the dwarf in his mind. Lenny!

  Hey, whattaya know, he still remembas my name, said Lenny. Guess we’re all right, Paulie.

  Garrett lifted his head above the surface. Took a deep breath of air. Lenny, how is this possible?

  Well, it’s like this. When a Mommy Orc and a Daddy Orc—

  Wait. What’s an Orc? Garrett asked.

  The Ringed Seal turned its head toward the Elephant Seal. Ya believe this kid, Paulie? And here we been told Orcs were smart all these years.

  It’s not his fault, Len, said Paulo. Listen, Weaver, you’re a—

  The Ringed Seal swam forward and slapped its larger cousin. Both opened and closed their mouths, almost like talking to one another, yet their voices didn’t fill his head anymore.

  What’s going on? Garrett asked them.

  The Ringed Seal, Lenny, swam closer to him. Rememba what I told ya up top about needin’ to make sure ya safe?

  Yeah, said Garrett.

  Right, well, we gotta do that first. Then I’ll tell ya what an Orc is.

  But Len, I told you I would never hurt—

  You wouldn’t, but the uh—thing—ya are right now would if ya lost control again. So listen up. Close ya eyes and tell us what ya look like.

  Why?

  Just do it.

  Garrett closed his eyes. This is so stupid.

  Now tell us. Lenny coached. Whattaya look like?

  Garrett pictured himself in front of a mirror. I have dark hair…brown eyes…I guess I’m taller than a lot of my classmates.

  Uh huh, keep goin’. What about ya skin?

  Garrett tensed. What about it?

  Tell us what it looks like.

  I-I have a disorder…v-vitiligo, said Garrett, imagining his varied skin tones. The splotchy paleness covering his ears, nose, and forehead, almost like his tan had been seared away by fire.

  Garrett opened his eyes and found both seals watching him. Why am I telling you this? You know what I look like.

  The Elephant Seal turned its head toward its smaller companion. It’s not working, Len.

  Ya think I don’t see that? The Ringed Seal clacked its jaws.

  What’s not working? Garrett asked.

  Don’t listen to him, said Lenny. Picture ya’self with legs, Weava.

  I already did that, Len—

  Do it again!

  Why? Garrett asked. Why do I have to do any of this?

  Rememba those guys on the boat?

  Len, said Paulo. Don’t.

  No, no, said Lenny. He wants to know, well, here it is. If that son of a sea cook, Fenton, comes back, sees ya like this, and ya don’t look safe, he’ll kill ya, all right?

  Garrett shuddered. Wh-what?

  That got ya attention, huh? Good. ‘Cause he’ll kill me, Paulie, and my pop too.

  B-but why? Why would he kill—

  ‘Cause the Salt’s a hard ol’ world, Weava. Best get used to it, said Lenny. Now, ya wanna know what’s happenin’ to ya? I’m tryin’ to help! So…just…listen, would ya?

  O-okay. What do I do?

  Picture ya’self with legs.

  Garrett obeyed. He imagined his thin, practically hairless, chicken-like legs and the light-skinned patches that streaked down them.

  Nothing, boss, said Paulo.

  Think harda, Weava! Focus on the itch.

  Garrett closed his eyes tighter. Focused so hard on his legs that he felt his head shaking. Exhausted, he lifted his head above the water and exhaled. Did it work?

  The Ringed Seal surfaced nearby and swam over to him. Nah. Gotta try something else.

  What about running? Paulo asked. That might help.

  Might help? Garrett asked.

  Well, I don’t know, said Paulo. I’m not an Orcinian.

  I don’t even know what an Orcinian is!

  All right, calm down, said Lenny. It’s our first time tryin’ to talk somebody through changin’ too, ya know.

  But I saw you change earlier, said Garrett. In the boat! You went from human to seal—

  Ya not a Selkie, said Lenny. It’s different. We gotta have our coats. Ya can change by thinkin’ about it. You’re a Salt Child. Ya belong here.

  And you guys don’t?

  Nah, said Lenny. We’re kinda like…permanent guests.

  Garrett puzzled over Lenny’s meaning. He didn’t like the sound of it, but Paulo seemed to think Lenny’s connotation hilarious.

  What about ya girlfriend? Lenny asked. What was her name again?

  Sydney, Garrett replied. He imagined her worrying when she hadn’t heard back from the thousand texts she’d undoubtedly sent him.

  Yeah, Sydney, said Lenny. Picture those nice, sweet legs she’s got on her.

  Garrett found thinking of Sydney’s legs far easier than imagining his own. He thought back to tennis matches—her white skirt, pasty white legs. The way she attacked the net when she sensed her opponent’s weakness.

  Garrett’s toes felt numb. The itch returned, working its way up his shins.

  That’s it, Weava! Lenny said. Keep it up.

  The image of Sydney vanished.

  No, no, no. Garrett fought to retain the idea of Sydney as the itch receded to his toes. Why is this so hard? He thought to himself. How many times have you daydreamed about her legs, Weaver? Now you can’t even picture her face? Get it together, dude!

  Weava, said Lenny. Whateva ya thinkin’ on, it’s not workin’. Come up with something else.

  I’m trying, Lenny!

  Think about sports, Paulo suggested. Athletes. Football. Baseball.

  Garrett’s mind drifted from Sydney to sitting alongside his mom at an Indy baseball diamond when he was ten. The sun crisping his skin and
how careful he had been not to let the back of his legs touch the scalding metal bleachers. He remembered complaining of the heat. His mom promised ice cream once the game ended. Then the crowd cheered as the newest batter walked to the plate. Watching the bat slice the air with several practice swings, young Garrett forgot all his earlier wants.

  Garrett felt the itch work its way up his shins, but even it did not distract him from the memory—one he had relived time and again these past few years.

  He remembered the pitcher being afraid of the batter. That he threw the ball wide and outside each time. Ball one. Garrett recalled the referee’s loud voice over the crowd’s collective sigh. Ball two…Ball three…

  The itch reached his waist, continued up his stomach. His head dipped beneath the water. A large seal appeared beneath him to steady his suddenly shaky legs. The seal…Paulo…

  The fourth pitch went high and outside. The batter swung anyway. Garrett remembered hearing the ball chirp off the bat’s end. Watched it soar toward the outfield and saw the left fielder wave his glove in frustration as the ball cleared the fence with no chance of being caught. Garrett recalled standing with the rest of the crowd, the need to climb the top of the bleachers to see the batter round the bases. All of it to the tune of the crowd’s cheer…

  Keep goin’, Weava.

  Garrett reached to scratch his neck. His human nails dug at human skin, cold to the touch, yet Garrett felt surprisingly warm. What is happening to me? He wondered as the itch continued up his scalp.

  Unlike other batters who made extravagant shows of crossing home plate, Garrett remembered the red-haired giant took the step in stride. His teammates clapped him on the back, yet he passed through them with the smallest of grins, his gaze set on the boy in the bleachers. Garrett recalled jumping off, caught in the strongest pair of arms he ever knew. Will I ever be as fast as you, Dad?

  Garrett felt the comforting itch wash over the top of his head, then vanish.

  When those little chicken legs of yours grow a bit, his father had answered. You’ll be faster than I ever was.

  Garrett opened his eyes and found the Ringed Seal staring back.

  Ya did it, said Lenny.

  CHIDI

  The Salt scent grew stronger with each passing mile.

  Chidi shifted uneasily. Her back was sore from limited movement, her wrists and ankles numb from the constricting zip ties. Still, she took comfort in the fact she laid upon cushioned seats, worn and unforgiving as they were, rather than bound in the truck bed like the others Henry enslaved.

 

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