I grasp my paddle, ready to thrash the diver. Then the dark shape flips, and Oscar’s head appears. He swims into the path of Mark’s boat. He bares his teeth and growls. Mark looks down and laughs. He bends down in the boat where we can’t see him and reappears a second later with an oar in his hand. “Get out of there, Oscar,” I shout. Mark turns to look at me, the oar still raised. In that moment I know he’ll stop at nothing to get his net back. He’s coming for us, no matter what. Oscar snarls and dives. He resurfaces a few feet farther away from Mark’s boat. Mark swings at him again. “Now,” shouts Saul. He pushes my boat. Together we sprint away from the rocks. “Head for the kelp,” says Saul. “Oscar…” I shout. “Can take care of himself. Now paddle,” says Saul. I have no choice. I paddle with every ounce of strength I have. My arms scream at me and my stomach muscles burn as we sprint across the bay. Mark isn’t distracted by Oscar for long. Before we reach the kelp, he zooms after us.
