Page 121 of Rescuing Mia
It’s hauntingly beautiful, a deep, melodic song that vibrates through the water and into my very bones.
“Do you hear it?” Gabe asks, his voice a whisper of awe.
“What is that?” I lift my head, eyes wide.
“Whale song. Humpback whales.” He grins.
The other guys, clearly familiar with this phenomenon, dip their ears into the water as well. Rigel gives me an encouraging nod, and I immerse myself in the sound again.
The whale song is mesmerizing. It is a series of low moans, high-pitched cries, and complex rhythms that weave together in an underwater symphony.
We all float there, heads partially submerged, listening to the enchanting music of the whales. It’s surreal, and I find myself utterly captivated.
“How far away do you think they are?” I can’t get enough of the whale song.
“Hard to say.” Rigel adjusts his grip on me. “Could be miles.”
“Miles?”
“Yes, whale song travels over great distances. But they could also be nearby. Hard to say.”
“It’s beautiful.”
I don’t know how long I listen to the whales’ songs, but many moments pass as I lose myself in their incredible beauty.
Sometime later, Gabe pokes his head underwater again, his curiosity piqued. He motions for me to do the same.
“Take a look. You won’t believe it.”
“Believe what?”
“I think the ocean’s showing off for you, Miss Mia Chen.”
I hesitate momentarily, then take a deep breath and dip my head beneath the surface. The water is clear and blue, and as my eyes adjust, I look around, searching for what Gabe sees.
At first, there’s nothing but the endless expanse of blue. I turn my head slowly, scanning the depths, my heartbeat quickening with anticipation and a touch of fear.
Then, in the far distance, I catch sight of faint, shadowy shapes moving gracefully through the water. They’re barely discernible, just dark forms against the vast blue, but the whale song grows louder, resonating through the water and my chest.
I focus on the shapes, my eyes straining to make them out. Slowly, they coalesce, the dark shadows transforming into the unmistakable forms of whales.
An entire pod of humpback whales.
The sight is breathtaking. Huge, majestic creatures gliding effortlessly through the depths, their massive bodies moving with an elegance that seems impossible for their size.
They’re far away, yet their presence is overwhelming. The whale song becomes more distinct; each note is part of a complex and beautiful symphony that fills the ocean around me.
I surface, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and wonder. “I… I saw them. The whales. They’re beautiful.”
Rigel’s arm tightens around me in a reassuring squeeze. “It’s incredible, isn’t it? This is a moment you’ll never forget.”
He’s right. Despite everything—the danger, the fear, the uncertainty—this experience is a gift. The whale song, the sight of the pod far below, the vastness of the ocean… It’s all so overwhelmingly beautiful.
For the first time, I feel a sense of peace in the water. The fear isstill there, but it’s tempered by awe and gratitude. We’re in this together, and whatever comes next, I know I’ll carry this moment with me always.
Floating on the surface, we listen to the haunting whale song for what seems like hours. Suddenly, a new sensation grips me—a faint, rhythmic churning in my chest, different from the smooth vibrations of the whale song.
It’s a chopping, churning beat that pulses through the water.