Kamohoali’I

By Rindy Tietjen

Kamohoalii (ka-moh-ho-ah-lii) a Hawaiian shark deity; the brother of the volcano goddess, Pele; a prominent god in the Hawaiian pantheon
When Shawns life falls apart, her brother invites her to spend some time at his house on the island of Kauai in Hawaii. It seems like the perfect escape, complete with blue water, gorgeous beaches, hula dancers, bonfires, handsome strangers, and plenty of beer until people start turning up dead.
After years of wandering the Deep Oceans, Kamohoalii the Shark God has returned to his sacred islands. No one knows what he wants, but two things are certain. He is hunting, and he is hungry.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 9, 2011
• ISBN: 9781462861804

Rindy Tietjen

Rindy was born and raised just north of Baltimore, Maryland. She has been creating stories since before she learned to write them down. When she was 19, Rindy spent four years hitchhiking, hopping freight trains, and collecting stories all across the United States. She later settled in South Carolina. In 2006, Rindy graduated from the University of South Carolina with a BA in theater arts. Today, her adventures are of a different sort. She manages a horse farm, homeschools her son, spins fire, drums around the bonfire, and still finds time to write – because all stories deserve to be told.

Book preview

Copyright © 2011 by Rindy Tietjen.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2011906613

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4628-6179-8

                   Softcover                                 978-1-4628-6178-1

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4628-6180-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Epilogue

This first one is for Mom,

who taught me never to give up on my dreams

no matter where they led me,

and never gave up on me or my dreams

no matter how many gray hairs I gave her.

Kamohoali’i [ka-moh-ho-ah-li’i]—a Hawaiian shark deity; Pele’s brother; one of the most prominent gods in Hawaiian mythology

Chapter 1

Jessica Hayward smelled blood on the wind.

Call it deja vu, a sixth sense, perhaps, or just too much time on this beach watching the kooks get rolled by waves most pros wouldn’t tackle on their best day. Call it whatever you like, but she smelled it from the moment she saw their boards hit the water. She could almost taste it, thick at the back of her throat.

She’d heard them on the beach earlier, joking and tossing outdated surf-speak back and forth and trying to act like they belonged here. Most of the time, their type never even made it into the water. Hayward ignored their efforts to talk to her, pretending to be very focused on waxing her new board. Eventually, they wandered down the beach muttering some uncomplimentary words under their breath.

Now that they had finally paddled out, she paused a moment to watch them floating beyond the breaker line.

I have to find a new spot, Paul, she said to the man next to her.

He didn’t look up from the novel in his lap. She scowled and turned her attention back to the two in the water.

The man moved first, leaving his companion alone. They both might have been alright if she’d stayed put. Instead, the girl panicked and followed him into the wave. Too close together. Far too close. If someone had crowded her like that, Jess would have run them onto the reef.

Paul, you’re missing the show, Jess said, poking her friend in the side.

He grunted and swatted at her hand.

Jess snatched the book from him. He let out a long suffering sigh and adjusted his shades, looking out over the water. Rather close, aren’t they?

Rather? Just keep watching, this should be good. Wait . . . wait for it . . .

Jess’s laughter carried over the sound of the crashing wave as the two boards crossed. The edge of the woman’s board caught her friend’s, causing a spectacular wipe out. Both would-be surfers flipped head-over-ass into the white water.

Couple of gymnasts, she cackled.

I give it a 6 and a half, Paul said, sounding bored. May I have my book back now?

She tossed it to him. They’re only getting what they deserve. Idiot tourists roll in here every fall and act like they own the beaches.

At least that’s one thing we can agree on, Paul said, returning to his reading.

The wave finished its business, depositing a lost board a few feet from Paul’s beach chair. Jess reached down and fingered the broken leash. Who puts a twenty dollar leash on a six hundred dollar board, anyway? Twenty seconds passed, then thirty. Her laughter died in her throat as she waited for the downed surfers to reappear.

The woman surfaced first, screaming and thrashing wildly. A few feet from her, her partner’s board broke the surface, bobbing on its end like a garish neon shark’s fin.

Get the lifeguards, Jess shouted, rushing into the surf.

Wait . . .

The sound of the ocean swallowed Paul’s words. Diving into a breaking wave, Jess swam towards the shrieking woman and her partner. For the board to stand at that angle, the man on the other end of the leash had to be either unconscious or too injured to keep himself afloat. Most of the experienced lifeguards stayed busy at Oahu this time of year, and the man didn’t have time for mistakes.

Ignoring the woman, Jess grabbed the board and dove. She felt her way down the leash until she found him. Totally limp. Hooking one arm beneath his shoulders, she used her own body weight to push him to the surface. She fought the surf, struggling to hold both their heads above the water, trying to push him onto his board. Within moments, the beach patrol arrived with a jet ski to pull the two in to the shore. As the jet-ski headed for shore, a dark trail of blood followed them through the water.

Jess let the water carry her to shore and returned to waxing her board as the paramedics went to work on the two idiots. The woman’s wrist was bent at an odd angle, clearly broken. Blood ran down her chest, staining the sand at her feet. She’d been dragged across the reef for some distance. Quite painfully dragged, if her screaming was any indication. Although impressive to look at and bleeding profusely, her injuries were mostly superficial. The man on the other hand . . .

The distinctive grayish blue color of his face did not bode well for him. Even from this distance, Jess could see blood in his hair, running down his face. He didn’t appear to be breathing. The paramedics wasted no time administering CPR.

Think he’ll make it? Paul asked.

Jess shrugged. Don’t know, but if his girl doesn’t stop screeching I might go over there and knock her out myself.

Real sympathetic there, Jess.

I’m supposed to feel sorry for idiots who don’t have any right to be hogging my swells in the first place? I should have let him drown!

Paul picked up the book and held it between them like a shield. I’m only saying . . .

I went after him, didn’t I? she snapped.

Someone in the gathered crowd let out a shout. Jess looked away from Paul to see the man sitting up. He was shaking and spewing up half the Pacific, but he was alive.

See. He’s fine.

Paul stood up and started gathering his things.

Where are you going? Jess asked.

I’ve had enough excitement for one day. He jerked his head in the direction of the small crowd of gawking onlookers.

They’ll clear out in a minute.

Paul slid the book into his bag and snarled something under his breath.

She rolled her eyes. A bit of blood really bothers you that much?

He stuffed his beach chair back into its carry sack, and slung both chair and bag over his shoulder. I’ve got tanks to fill and work to do on the boat before tomorrow morning. Some of us do work for a living. He leaned down and kissed her on the top of her head. Have a good ride.

You coming by Shaggy’s later?

Sure. Be careful out there, Jess, he called over his shoulder. You’re not as young as you used to be.

She threw the can of wax at his retreating backside.

A very nice backside, she mused, attached to a very nice body. For all his little quirks, there wasn’t a woman on the island over the age of sixteen who hadn’t tried to wiggle her way into Paul Ammon’s bed. He was notoriously difficult to seduce. Jess counted herself among the few who had succeeded—once. She had been as surprised by that success as anyone because Paul made no secret of the fact that he detested surfing, surfers and anything that came with them. She’d been lucky to meet him out here today. To see him on the beach in mid-October was a bit like a new star rising in the East. To Paul, October meant nothing more than constant flooding, costly repairs and an unwanted influx of visitors from the mainland.

To Jess, the season meant waves. Big nasty waves that made your heart leap into your throat and brought tears to your eyes. Waves that drove the kooks off the beach and reminded you what it meant to be alive. Days like today were wasted on kooks, and Paul Ammon. She picked up her board and headed into the surf, determined to get some time on the water before anyone else showed up to spoil her morning.

The sky was clear and so blue it was difficult to tell where the sky ended and the water began. Jess paddled out beyond the breaker line and took a few minutes to warm up.

Soon enough, she lost herself in the strange Zen that was surfing. Some called it a sport; others called it a lifestyle. Jess considered it the ultimate communion, reaching out to touch the gods. Time slipped away and the world turned in on itself, becoming a swirl of salt, wind and swell.

~ ~ ~

Minutes or hours later, she dropped out of the zone abruptly, misjudging a turn by a fraction of a second and plunging into the wave. As the wave rolled over her, she felt the board hit the reef. It slammed into her side, driving the air from her lungs. Then she was caught in the surf, fighting her way to the shore. Coughing up seawater, she rolled up onto the beach. After a moment’s rest, she scrambled to her feet.

One half of her brand new board lay a few yards away. She kicked it up onto the dry sand, swearing loudly to the empty beach, then set off to chase the other half. It led her on quite a chase, but she finally caught it where the sand turned to volcanic rock. Picking up the piece of broken board, she saw a wide expanse of black stone at the very edge of her vision.

Local legend placed a lot of significance on those black stones. Some sort of ancient arena, sacred to gods no one remembered. Jess usually kept her distance from the stone circle due to common sense rather than superstition. Dead gods didn’t interest her. What did interest her was how unpleasant it would be to end up caught between the sheer stone walls and a rough wave. She took one last look at the stones before taking the broken board back to her car. She almost decided to pack it up then, angry over the broken board, but the call of the sea proved too strong to resist. Jess grabbed her spare board and decided to have one more go.

Forty five glorious minutes later, she rested beyond the breaker line, feeling the sun on her face and the dull ache in her muscles which meant it had been a good day. She floated for a while, lying on her back in the sun. One more ride.

She felt the wave before she saw it. A shiver ran through her. This was it—her last ride of the day, and it was going to be a good one. She could feel it in her bones. She rolled over onto her stomach and started paddling into the swell. Right before she reached the moment of no return, something jostled the board, throwing her into the water. Stunned, but unhurt, she headed for shore. Probably a confused sea turtle, but no reason to tempt fate.

She’d gone less than three feet when something rough brushed against her foot. A cold feeling seized her gut as the pain hit. She reached down to touch her foot As she did, she saw a shadow in the water. Something slammed into the board with the force of a freight train, lifting both her and the board a good three feet into the air. She felt an intense wave of pain in her hand and thigh as her body flew backwards.

A dark stain surrounded her as she pulled her arm from the water. She felt the breath rush from her body as shock took hold. She could still feel it, feel the fingers twitching, but where her hand had been she could see nothing but a bloody stump. More blood pumped out of the hole where her wrist began. Her brain hammered out one word.

Shark . . . . shark . . . . shark . . . .

She began to scream.

Chapter 2

Countless ancient myths relate tales of love between gods and mortals. These stories take many forms around the islands of Hawaii. Visitors hear them whispered by firelight to the heartbeat of the drums. They can be read in the gentle swaying story-songs of the hula. In the stories, such love ends in tragic separation or the birth of monstrous offspring. Still, many native families claim divine ancestry as a result of such unions. A gift bestowed on the faithful in ancient times when the gods walked more freely among men.

One such legend tells of Kamohoali’i, the Shark King who protects the waters around Hawaii. Kamohoali’i is quick to bless his faithful and quicker to punish those who transgress his laws. He is both guardian and judge of the islands. Even his fiery sister, Pele, treads carefully around her toothsome brother and refuses to blow her smoke across his ancestral home. Sailors and fishermen revere the Shark King above all other gods. Many sacrificial fires once burned in his honor.

A solitary being, Kamohoali’i seldom ventures outside his watery kingdom. But the deep blue becomes cold and lonely, and at times the Shark King is taken to walk among mortals. Clothed in the skin of a man, He seeks the warmth of a mortal woman . . .

Shawn turned the page of the travel guide and yawned. The soft light leaking through the thin paisley curtains told her dawn had arrived. She glanced at the clock. 5:33 AM. Less than eight hours since . . . A shudder ripped through her body. Her chest still hurt from crying. Her throat felt raw, and the tears threatened to return at any moment. An overflowing ashtray and a trash can full of tissues sat beside the bed—a silent testament to how she’d spent her night. She reached for the pack of cigarettes she’d opened a few hours earlier. Empty. Cursing, Shawn crumpled the useless chunk of cardboard and threw it across the room.

When the phone rang, she nearly fell out of the chair. A wave of panic gripped her. There was no way Douglas could have figured out where she was staying. She let it ring. Five . . . Six . . .

Snatching the phone from the bedside table, she snapped, Who is it?

Hey, sis. How you doing? Her brother’s concerned voice answered her question.

She sighed in relief. Same as I was two hours ago, Ethan. But thanks.

I didn’t like Douglas from the start, but I never figured on this. Want me to kick his ass for you?

She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her oh-so-effeminate brother trying to kick anyone’s ass. Ethan, he’d kill you.

I’ll bring some help. I know lots of guys in San Fran. Big guys. Bikers.

She tried to laugh, but it came out a strangled sob.

Are you sure you’re OK? Ethan asked. He knew her far too well.

I’m OK, she croaked.

You don’t sound OK. You sound like something died in your throat.

I smoked two packs of cigarettes last night.

I thought you quit.

I did. Dead air hung between them for a moment. He fired me.

What?

He didn’t even have the balls to tell me in person. He left an email. ‘Don’t bother coming to work today. I’ll send your vacation pay in the mail, minus the cost of my television and stereo. You should really learn to control your temper.’ Self-righteous prick!

He’s an asshole. Just goes to show you shouldn’t date your boss.

Ethan, this isn’t helping.

Sorry. Actually, getting fired is a good thing.

How could he possibly be so cheerful first thing in the morning? Exactly how can joining the ranks of the unemployed possibly be a good thing?

Now you’re free to come visit us on the island.

Ethan . . .

Earlier you said you couldn’t miss work, right? Well that’s not a problem anymore.

And you’re sure this is OK with your roommate? Shawn asked.

Yeah, he thinks it’s a great idea. We talked it over last night. Paul! Talk to Shawn!

She heard an unfamiliar male voice in the background. Ethan and his roommate spoke back and forth for a moment. The roommate picked up the phone. Hello, Shawn.

Hello . . . Paul, she said.

Apparently, I’m supposed to convince you to come bask in the beautiful sunshine and blue waters of Hawaii. He didn’t seem angry, although he did sound like he was still half asleep.

My brother’s a pain in the ass.

Yes, he is, the man raised his voice a bit. Especially at six in the morning. Shawn couldn’t quite hear Ethan’s muffled response. When Paul spoke again, he sounded more serious, I do think he’s right, darling.

How much did he tell you? she asked, irritated at the thought of a complete stranger knowing her business.

Enough to know you need to get out of the city. Besides, I’ve seen your picture and we can always use more pretty women on this island, he said.

She smiled in spite of the situation. I don’t want to impose on you.

It’s not imposing if I offer. Besides, we’ll put you to work. Are you scuba certified?

No.

We can fix that. You can swim, can’t you?

Of course I can swim.

Perfect. When should I send Ethan to pick you up at the airport?

I don’t know. If . . . and I mean if, I decide to say yes, I’ll call and let you know.

I look forward to meeting you in person, Shawn. I’m going to put Ethan back on now, and he was gone.

Her brother came back on the line. So you’ll come?

I told him I’d think about it.

Come on, Shawn. You know you need this. What have you got to lose? So, yes?

She glanced