Free From Manhattan With Revenge Boxed Set by Christopher Smith

Where’s
your sense of adventure?”
    “That
would be you.   In the bedroom.   And believe me, it’s more than enough.”
    They dove
beneath the surface, which now looked pristine to Carmen with the goggles in
place.   Scores of black fish she
wished she knew the names of were swimming in schools along with brightly
colored yellow fish, sea turtles, iridescent blue fish with happy yellow tails,
the occasional manta ray, a few massive bat rays and, near the bottom, the
choral reef that sustained so many of them.   She looked up and on the other side of
the hut, and saw a gathering of other fish lingering along the bottom of her
speed boat.
    She
fanned out her arms, lifted herself to the surface to take a breath and then dove
down again.   Apparently, their
presence was now known, because within seconds, each was surrounded by dozens
of curious yellow- and black-striped fish, which were their favorites because
they were gentle, beautiful, curious and fearless.  
    Carmen
looked across at Alex, who was floating among them, turning in circles while
they followed his rhythms.   She was
about to do the same when what looked like a harpoon shot into the water and
came within inches of cutting through him.
    He was
so distracted by the fish while he flipped over and over that he didn’t see or
hear it.   And so she quickly kicked
over to him just as another harpoon sliced through the water.  
    This
time he saw and heard it; it carved between them and speared one of the
turtles.   Blood entered the water,
which would call other beasts neither wanted to deal with.
    Already
she was running out of air and was certain he was as well.   She pointed beneath the hut, they dove
down as far as they could, but in the whirl of bubbles they left in their wake,
the gig was up.   Dozens of harpoons
started to pierce the water.   One
cut clean through her hair, severing a lock of it.   Alex came beside her, put his arm around
her and together, they kicked furiously until they were in the large pocket of
air beneath the hut.
    “They’ve
found us,” he said.
    “How?   Nobody know I live here.”
    “Somebody
knows.”  
    “That
impossible.”
    “Obviously
not.”   He looked up.   “Grab onto one of those beams and pull
yourself up.   They’re shooting
harpoons.   One of them could get
lodged into our legs.”
    They
each scrambled up.
    “I’ve
heard no boat,” Carmen said.   “You
know that’s the only way to get out here.   Otherwise, we’re isolated.”
    “They
could be scuba diving.”
    She
shook her head.   “The harpoons came
from above.   They drove down into the water, not horizontally.   They must be shooting at us from the shoreline.   We need to get to the other side of the
hut and into my boat.”   She reached
down and dipped her head into the water.   “You’ve got your sharks,” she said.   “The turtle brought them out.   Right below us, they’re tearing it apart.”
    Another
harpoon was released and this time it was clear that it was shot from the
shore.   But instead of going into
the water, the harpoon went straight through the house, smashing glass and
sailing through open windows before it splashed into the water on the other
side of it.
    “They’ve
seen my boat,” she said.   “That
harpoon went through the hut.   How
are we going to get out of here?”
    “We
shield ourselves with the boat.   We
take it off its moorings and paddle out as far as we can until we can get
inside it and get the hell out of here.”
    “You’re
telling me that we get in the water with those sharks?   I need you to slip your goggles down and
have a look into the water.   Then
tell me what we do.”
    He
stared at her for a moment, then he lowered the goggles and dipped his head
into the water.   When he emerged,
his mouth was set.   “There must be a
hundred of them down there.”
    “I’m
assuming the turtle’s gone.”
    “The
blood isn’t.”
    “Actually,
that could work in our