The Shark Rider Read Free

reached into the shark’s flesh-tearing teeth-filled mouth. He grabbed hold of the hook, thinking: S orry, this is gonna sting . And as quickly as he could, he pulled the hook out.
    Realizing what he’d done, Tristan looked at his hand. He still had a hand and all ten fingers, but blood was smeared across his skin. He held up his hand to get a closer look. He had nicked his knuckles on the shark’s teeth, but it was only a minor scratch. The blood wasn’t his—it was the shark’s. The shark’s silvery eyes looked up at him.
    Thanks, kid! Now get the heck off me. Don’t want my buddies to see me like this. Could you also get me back into the water? I can’t breathe.
    Tristan got off the shark and grabbed its tail. He tried to pull it back into the water, but the shark was too heavy.
    â€œC’mon, help me,” he yelled to the others.
    They all backed away, shook their heads, and looked at Tristan like he was totally insane—except for one person. Mrs. Hawk kicked off her Birkenstocks and grabbed hold with Tristan. Then the two of them hauled the shark into the water. They’d barely gone a few feet out when the shark flexed its tail, turned, and swam off. Tristan heard the shark say: Guess not all humans are such schmucks. Thanks, man.
    Mrs. Hawk stood staring in amazement. Not so much at the shark, but at Tristan. The other students and the fishermen were looking at him as well, their mouths hanging open. Even the tough-guy jocks were staring at Tristan with something almost like respect. One girl had her cell phone out. Her gaze wasn’t fixed on Tristan, but on the photo she’d just taken. It showed a boy straddling a shark with his hand inside the huge gray monster’s mouth.

    By the time Tristan got home, the photo had gone viral. The image of Tristan atop the shark was plastered across the Internet. Reporters started calling local hospitals to see if the boy in the photo had lost his hand or worse. They also called the Hunts’ house; a few even knocked on their front door. Tristan’s parents closed all the curtains and shut off the lights to make it look like nobody was home. Tristan’s older sister was sent out the back door to a friend’s house and told not totalk to anyone else about the photo. She’d already told several reporters that her brother was obsessed with sharks and just loony enough to try to ride one. She didn’t know the truth about Tristan or Sea Camp. His father made one last call before unplugging and shutting off their phones.
    Tristan was sitting on his bed, still staring at the fish in his aquarium, and waiting for his parents’ decision. He knew he acted recklessly, without thinking how it would look. But he just couldn’t help it. They were going to kill the shark.
    His parents walked into the room.
    â€œWe’ve spoken to Director Davis,” his father said sternly.
    Tristan held his breath.
    â€œGiven the circumstances, he suggested you go to camp a little early. Pack your bag. We’re leaving first thing in the morning for the Keys.”
    â€œYou mean I still get to go back?”
    â€œWhat were you thinking, Tristan?” his mother scolded. “We’ve kept this whole shark thing a secret all year, and here you go and jump on one and then stick your hand in its mouth. You could have lost that hand. Besides, didn’t you think that would seem rather unusual ?”
    â€œI know, I know,” Tristan said. “I just did it. You should have seen what they were doing to the shark. They wanted to shoot it or bash it over the head. And it was in pain.”
    â€œWell, we can’t turn back the clock. What’s doneis done,” his father said, shaking his head. “But you have got to be more careful, especially out in public, if you want to continue training at Sea Camp and go on their so-called missions. This is not the way to gain our confidence. We’ll see how