Hey ya'll, I'm sorry I haven't updated this story in so long. I got distracted with my Bruce Banner stories, and I guess I just forgot about this. Well, here's chapter 9, and I'm going to try to be better about posting this story. Please don't forget to review if you like it!

"I'll drive, but we're taking your car." I told Martin who nodded in agreement. I hopped into the driver's seat and Martin got into the passenger's seat leaving the back seat for Matt. I turned on the car and started to drive to the boathouse, the radio started playing Neil Diamond's Sweet Caroline making Matt reach forward and lightly trace a hair that was falling down my shoulder. I smiled in the rearview mirror at him and he smiled back.

"So, wait, you're an islander." Martin said and I looked at him.

"I was born here, yeah." I nodded.

"So, then how have you two known each other for so long?"

"My mom left my dad when I was about four years old, and we moved, he stayed." I shrugged. "My family had a house right next to Matt's and since he was only a year older than me, we were fast friends." I explained.

"And, if you're so close, why haven't you seen each other in so long?" Martin asked as he took a drink from the almost empty bottle of red wine he had brought along. The white wine was untouched and rolling around the floor at his feet.

"Because sometimes people can't stand to see other people happy." I looked at Martin who seemed to think about this answer for a moment. I looked back at the road, and he looked at me.

"When you first came here, you came back to live with your dad?"

"Yeah."

"What did you do?" he asked and I chewed on my bottom lip lightly, before answering.

"I helped him with his work."

"You hunted sharks?" he asked and I nodded.

"Yeah." I answered. "Yeah, and I helped take those city people, businessmen who need to catch a sailfish, or a bluefin tuna, or hell, even a small shark or two, to feel justified in being a man. There's nothing manlier then killing, right?" I asked and the two men in the car were silent. "Yeah, I worked with him for awhile, but I drew the line when he started navigating the Orca stone drunk." I shook my head, and pulled into a parking spot at the marina. "We're here." I said.

"Caroline, you don't have to come in here for this." Matt offered and I raised an eyebrow at him, before smiling. He grinned and we walked into the boathouse, where they were keeping the shark carcass. "My boat's over here." Matt said and he went to his boat, he went under for a moment, and then returned. "Here, Martin, hold this." he handed out a flashlight, which I took and handed to the chief. "Caroline, I'm gonna need your help, you've done this before I assume."

"You assume correctly." I nodded, and he handed me a pair of thick, but worn gloves, and he climbed out of his boat, slipping on a pair of gloves, holding a knife in his teeth. We went inside, to where the tiger shark lay, dead and stinking and he knelt down in front of it. Martin sat back, a little bit and Matt explained to me what he wanted me to do.

"Unless you'd rather cut?" he asked and I smiled.

"Cut the damn fish." I said and Martin chuckled.

"Spoken like a true Quint!" he declared. Matt positioned himself in front of Martin, kneeling on one knee, to make it easier for him to move as he cut the shark open. I was standing behind the shark, ready to bend over the lifeless body and try to hold it open to make it easier on Matt when he did get it open, to fish around (no pun intended) inside of the stomach to see what the shark had last eaten. I tried not to think about what he would find if those bozos had killed the right shark.

"We start in the alimentary canal," he pierced the shark's thick skin with the tip of the sharp knife, and started to drag the knife along in a quick sawing motion. "And open the digestive tract." he groaned, obviously having a hard time with it. "Right there Caroline." he said and I sank my thankfully glove clad hands into the cut along the shark and pulled upward, groaning slightly.

The smell was horrible, and a milky white film was now seeping from the shark's stomach, onto the floor, my hands, Matt's clothes, and everywhere else. Martin took a step back, and Matt started to scoop the remnants of the shark's mast meal out of its stomach.

Half a fish, two whole fish, Matt gasped in some air through his mouth; it was obvious he hated the smell as much as I did. I was trying not to breathe as I held the wound open. He threw a mashed up large tin can out of the stomach and then exclaimed. "Just like I thought!"

"What?" Martin asked, I looked over the body of the shark at the license plate Matt was now wiping off.

"Came up in the Gulf Stream, from southern waters." he tossed it over to where Martin was kneeling with the light.

"He didn't eat a car did he?" Martin asked looking at the Louisiana plate.

"No." Matt said, and chuckled. "Tiger shark's like a garbage can. It'll eat anything. Somebody probably threw that in the river" he searched around the stomach for a moment more, before he pulled his hands out and grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the carcass of the once deadly animal, he flopped down next to Martin, pulling me down with him, and let out a sigh. "That's it." he gestured to the shark, and looked at Martin who was staring at the shark glumly.

"You know what that means Martin." I said and he nodded.

"I've got to close the beach and call the mayor." he said hollowly.

"You've got a bigger problem than that Martin." Matt panted. "You've still got a hell of a fish out there, with a mouth about this big." he held his hands apart, like one of those business men bragging about the size of a fish they had caught.

"How do we confirm that by morning?" Martin asked and Matt looked at me, and nodded, before standing up, he helped me up and Martin stood up, following behind us.

"If he is a rouge-"

"Which by all definition, he is." I interjected

"And there's any truth to territoriality at all-"

"Which obviously there is."

"We've got a good chance of spotting him between Cape Scott and South Beach."

"Where are you going?" Martin asked as we walked along.

"We're going to find him right now, he's a night feeder." Matt explained.

"On the water?" Martin asked unhappily.

"Well if we're looking for a shark, we're not going to find him on the land."

"Yeah but I'm not drunk enough to go out on a boat." Martin protested as Matt climbed down the ladder, to get to his parked boat.

"Yes you are." Matt countered.

"No I'm not." Martin tried to sound serious.

"Yes you are."

"I can't do that."

"Yes you can." Matt contradicted Martin's protests and I climbed down with him.

"Woah, woah, wait, Caroline, where are you going?" he asked and I looked up at him.

"With Matt."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am." I said and he frowned. "Martin, I've been doing this my whole life." I explained.

"Come on." Matt said as he helped me into the boat. "Martin, let's go." he said and Martin stared down at us.

"Give me a minute." he said, and went outside.

"Think he's making a run for it?" Matt asked me and I rolled my eyes.

"It's be kind of hard without his keys." I said innocently and he smiled. Martin came back a minute later holding the bottle of white wine, which was now open. He climbed into the boat and Matt quickly turned it on, and pulled out of the boathouse before the chief could change his mind.