Shark Wars by Ernie Altbacker Page B

the Sparkle Blue in the first five minutes of a real run.”
    â€œYeah, he’s chum,” Ripper agreed in his gravelly voice.
    â€œQuiet down, you two,” Goblin told them. He explained the game, which actually seemed fairly simple. There were two teams of six, symbolizing a leader and their Five in the Line. Both teams faced the same way. Gray, Barkley, and the other former members of Rogue Shiver were one team and hovered farther back. Goblin and his Line took their places closest to the starting end of the field of play.
    Gray’s team was about twenty good tail strokes, or a hundred yards, away from Goblin and near the end line of the field. He taught the landshark measuring system to Barkley, who found it to be both fascinating and useful. In the game, a single drove of exactly one hundred fish would try to zip by both teams. For every fish Goblin’s group caught they received one point; any that Gray’s team caught were worth two points, as the fish would have time to gain speed in the water between the two teams. Neither team could swim outside their own zone, marked by glowing lumos. “The object is to make quick decisions and catch some fish!”
    â€œWait, wait,” said Barkley, looking absolutely confused. “Are you forcing some poor dwellers to play a game in which they get eaten?” This struck Goblin and his team as hilarious. They laughed so hard they could barely breathe. Striiker and Mari also chuckled. Snork joined in, too, but Gray was pretty sure the sawfish didn’t know why he was laughing.
    â€œForcing them?” Thrash could barely speak he was laughing so hard. “He thinks we’re forcing them!”
    â€œLike he’s going to catch one anyway!” yelled Streak. Barkley gave her a glare, and she burst into another giggle fit.
    â€œWisko! Get out here!” yelled Goblin. A fish that Gray had never seen before streaked forward and stopped between the two groups. This fish knifed through the water with ease! It shined silver and was shaped like a long, thin spine with jagged fins pressed close to its body. “This is Wisko, the wahoo. She’s been in charge of our Tuna Roll for the last three years.”
    â€œShe what ?” Barkley asked, now even more confused.
    â€œWatchu want, Goblin pup?” Wisko danced in front of the great white, tapping him on his head with her tail. For some reason this didn’t bother Goblin at all, and he playfully snapped at the fish. “What’s the hold up? Wahoo! We going or what? Or you too turtle to play today? Wa-hoo!”
    â€œThe dogfish is afraid we’re forcing you to Tuna Roll with us,” Goblin said dryly.
    â€œWho? Who said that? Him?” After Goblin nodded, Wisko jetted over to Barkley, hitting him in the face with a tremendous tail slap.
    â€œHey!” yelped Barkley. “I’m making sure you’re not being abused! You obviously aren’t a dumb grouping fish.”
    â€œWe invented Tuna Roll, dog breath!” said Wisko. “We play by different rules than the rest of the dwellers in the Big Blue. Hey, did you know you’re named after a dumb land animal called a dog , which eats its own poo?”
    â€œWe’re not named after it,” huffed Barkley. “It’s named after us!”
    â€œSo you admit you eat your own poo? Ha ha!” said Wisko as she finned Barkley’s snout with another blazing fast pass. “Wa-hoo!” Barkley got angry and darted after the wahoo, but never came close to catching her. She taunted him as he flailed about. “Over here! No, here! Too slow!”
    â€œOnly the fastest wahoo are chosen for the Tuna Roll by their leader—that’s Wisko. It’s a great honor for them to test themselves against us,” Velenka told everyone. “They’re actually faster than the tuna we’ll hunt at the run.”
    â€œWaaay faster! Wa-hoo!” exclaimed Wisko, a flash