I got the feeling that these sharks weren’t prone to watching
fights like humans did. They seemed to be a little more
participatory. Then an idea came to me.
“Can sharks smell fear, Mr. Woodard?” I
asked.
“You mean like dogs? If they can they can’t
smell it like they smell blood. The smell of blood drives them
crazy.”
I looked at Mr. Woodard and the spear gun he
was holding, and then at the sharks. It was still easy to identify
Derek and Wyn. They were the ones with no one around them. They
were the ones who were alone.
The two sharks who Derek had charged were
still swimming away, and they were about to pass by Wyn. As they
approached him, they suddenly turned toward him. That very second,
the two who Wyn had charged moved at him from the other direction.
Then, breaking out of their passerby mode, the three who had been
casually moving around also headed for Wyn.
“Fuck!” I yelled. “There are seven sharks
going toward him.”
“I know. I know,” Mr. Woodard said.