Page 62 of The Wild Beneath

Evan interjects. “I’m going to say right now this is a terrible idea.”

Walker takes Annie’s hand. “Wait for me to come back.” His sound makes her irrationally relaxed. In this exact moment she both loves and hates this about him. Before she can get in his way, he picks up the knife and dives. A cold spray hits her skin.

Evan wipes the splash off his face.

“You’ll both see better from the deck onGalene. Go aboard and keep watch,” Henry directs. “I’ll stay here in case he needs me.”

He’s right. OnGalene, Annie has a better view. In glimpses, she sees Walker. At first, he comes up to the surface every minute or so. Often enough for her not to panic. Each time, he looks more distraught. When he’s deep underwater, she can no longer hear his sound.

“You need to get out!” Annie calls down.

“I can’t get my knife under the net.” Walker cuts the guide rope from his waist and tosses it toward Henry.

“Jesus,” Henry mutters.

“It’s not long enough. I need to get underneath her.” He dives again.

Annie paces on the deck next to Evan. It’s well past ten minutes. Twenty, then thirty. Walker’s been under dozens of times, but this time he’s deeper than she can see.

“I’m going in after him,” Evan says, taking off his shirt. “We can’t let him hurt himself.”

Annie looks at her watch. The red second hand limps around. How long now since he came up for a breath? But then, a flash of skin. “I see him!” He’s above the whale. “He’s still swimming.”

“He’s going to drown.” Evan pulls off his belt.

“Give it a minute.” Annie holds the lifelines and watches Walker pull against the net with the knife.

He finally surfaces with a handful of loose netting in one hand.

The whale breaches and releases a blast of air through its blowhole. Walker climbs ontoGalene’s ladder. Once everyone is aboard, Henry pushes a blanket into his arms.

Annie examines his hands and feet. They’re warm against her own hands. His lips are pink. He’s not even shivering.

“You scared the shit out of us,” Evan yells from the foredeck.

“I’m fine,” Walker says.

But what if he isn’t? She digs out the thermometer from the first aid kit in the lazarette.

“Put this under your tongue.” She places her hand on his forehead, but he feels mysteriously warm. His sound is stronger now. The thermometer beeps and she pulls it from his mouth. She stares at the grey screen: 37.5 degrees Celsius.

“This can’t be right. It must be broken.”

He pulls on his shirt. “It was easier once I cut the line around me.”

Another puff and snort fill the air. The whale dives under and then breaches again a few metres away, followed by the smack of its colossal body against the surface. A spray of water.A low-pitched groan. They watch, stunned, as the whale submerges again. It feels prehistoric.

“Humpbacks are so good at direction,” Walker says, rubbing the blanket over his wet hair. “They travel their migration paths with total precision. Less than a one-degree shift off course every single year.”

Annie has a flash of her mom lying next to her on the foredeck ofAmphitrite, stretched out under the stars. “Where is the water pulling you? Close your eyes and tell me,” she whispers.

This all feels tenuous and liminal. Repetitious. She wants Walker to explain how he was down so long without breathing and how he stayed so warm. But before she can ask, another whine crosses the water and more whales moan in the distance. Speechless, she’s drawn into their melody.

“They follow it like a map,” he says.

Annie is struck by a feeling that she knows this already. But she can’t remember how.

Walker pulls off his wet shorts. Annie turns away from his bare skin.