“Scalping Brian and Brigid at poker,” she said matter-of-factly. Melanie looked up in surprise.
“What about Angel?”
“She’s ahead by about thirty bucks.”
Here’s a freebie: Don’t play poker with a kid who can read minds. Well, they would have to learn sometime.
“How long have you been here?” I asked Melanie out of sheer boredom. I don’t usually bother getting to know people, because (a) I don’t trust any of them, (b) we’re usually leaving soon, and in a hurry, and (c) they’re usually trying to kill us. The only humans I’d ever met and liked were my mom and my half sister, Ella.
“I’ve been part of an Antarctica team for five years,” she said. She put a small plastic container in a clawlike thing, which she lowered over the boat’s side on a rope. “Off and on. We’re privately funded, so every once in a while we run out of money and have to scramble.” She looked at me curiously. “How long have you been on the run? Dr. Martinez warned us we’d have to take extra measures to keep you safe.”
I decided it wouldn’t be a disaster to tell her. “We’ve been on our own for more than two years. On the run for — I don’t know — six months? It feels like forever.”
She nodded sympathetically.
Just then Angel appeared on deck, stuffing a wad of money into her pocket. “Whales,” she said.
37
“HUH?” I SAID.
Angel nodded toward the ocean. “Whales. I wanted to see them.”
Melanie drew up her water sample. “Yes, we’ll probably see some before too long. There are eight different species of whales in this region.”
“We’re gonna see ’em now,” said Angel, moving to the railing.
Smiling, Melanie said, “We’ll definitely see them at some point.”
“No, they’re here,” said Angel, pointing. “They’re curious. They think this boat smells yucky.”
“What?” Melanie said, just as the biggest gol-dang animal I’ve ever seen suddenly burst out of the ocean.
I gasped — it was like a gray-and-black wall of wet skin, almost filling my vision. It was super close, maybe forty feet away, and it got about two-thirds of its body above water before crashing back down in a ginormous belly flop that rocked our boat.
Angel smiled.
“That was a humpback,” said Melanie. “They love to throw themselves out of the water. You think he was curious?”
“She,” Angel said absently, watching the water. “She’s curious. There’s a bunch of them down there.”
Paul Carey came out of the pilothouse. “There’s a pod of humpbacks all around us,” he said. “I just saw them on sonar.”
Angel glanced at him pityingly but didn’t say anything.
“I can’t believe how huge they are. H
ow many of them are there?” I asked Angel.
“Can’t tell,” she said slowly. “They’re all thinking at once. Maybe twenty-five?”
Melanie’s brow wrinkled, and she looked at Paul, who shrugged.
“There are babies,” said Angel. “They want to come closer, but their moms are saying no. Their moms know the boat is unnatural and shouldn’t be here, but they’re mostly curious, not mad or anything.”
Paul looked at Angel. “Do you like making up stories about things you see?” He sounded friendly, not trying to be insulting.
Angel gazed at him seriously. “I’m not making things up. Uh-oh.” She turned quickly, and two seconds later, another whale suddenly breached even closer to us, leaping almost entirely out of the water and then crashing down. It looked so, so fun.