He frowned, his wrinkled face growing more worried. “But I thought—”
“We all did. But all that matters is that we have to get to Patrus. They’re going after King Maxen.”
Alejandro looked at me, and then at Owen, who was fiddling with his handheld near the cabin; Ms. Dale, who seemed to be checking her bag of weapons; the boys, who had been roaming the deck shouting about the sunset; and finally Violet. “How the hell are you going to get all of them in there?” he asked.
I shot an apologetic look at Violet, who had been listening closely and was clearly asking herself the same question. “I guess I’m just going to have to complete my mission,” I said.
There was a long pause, and then Violet’s concerned look bloomed into a wide grin. “Viggo… that is brilliant,” she announced.
I had just opened my mouth to reply when a strange whirring noise seemed to rise out of the twilight, gathering on the Matrian side of the river. At the same time, Ms. Dale gave a shout of alarm.
I turned in time to see her pointing at a massive heloship coming straight for us. It looked like a boat hovering in the air, with four long beams coming off the sides attached to massive propellers. Its body was painted a deep mottled green, probably to better blend in with trees and grass. I’d never seen the inside of one, but I’d read that they were typically armed with .50-caliber machine guns—and rocket-propelled missiles.
The next thing I knew, a bright red-orange flash had exploded from the heloship’s nose, a long line of smoke trailing behind it as the missile blasted forward faster than I could articulate the words look out. My mouth was barely forming the ‘k’ sound when it slammed into us.
6
Violet
I hooked my right elbow around the rail and grabbed Viggo, locking my arm around his. He was trying to say something, but I could hear nothing over the roar of the rocket as it struck the bow of the ship—hard. The deck seemed to ripple beneath our feet, and I felt my knees hit the deck. I clutched Viggo and the railing tightly as a wave of heat washed over us. Pain flooded through my hand, but I didn’t stop clenching my arm inward to keep my elbow hooked.
Smoke invaded my lungs, and I coughed, trying to find a clean pocket of air to breathe. My ears were ringing from the intensity of the explosion, and I shook my head repeatedly, trying to clear the sound. It took me a second to realize my eyes had closed, and I opened them, fearing what I would see.
The smoke clung thickly to the ship, making it difficult to see anything. It was only by feeling Viggo’s hand tightening around my arm that I knew he was alive. As for Tim, Jay, or anyone else… I couldn’t tell. Gravity seemed to wobble; the deck tilted, tipping down toward the bow. I couldn’t tell how bad the damage was because of the smoke, but it was clear that it was extensive. “Tim!” I shouted. “Jay!”
The smoke shifted, and I made out the figure of Ms. Dale. Her mouth was moving, and I assumed she was shouting something, but the high-pitched ringing in my ears drowned out everything else. She had a long tube thrown over her shoulder, and, as I watched, fire and smoke exploded from the end. The streak of fire cut a path through the smoke still clinging to the ship, and I followed its sharp line as whatever she’d shot slammed into one of the approaching heloship’s propellers.
The heloship reared back from the blow as if it had hit an invisible wall. Smoke and flames erupted from that side of it. I watched as it tilted, slowly pulling back toward Matrus. I continued to track it, but with the smoke and distance, it disappeared within seconds, heading toward the ground. I couldn’t see a corresponding explosion, but I hoped—I prayed—that the heloship was grounded.
The ringing in my ears had lessened, and now I could hear Owen shouting something, but I couldn’t quite make it out. “Tim!” I shouted again, and I was relieved to see the flash of his head come out from behind where Alejandro clung to the helm, his eyes wild. There was another shout, and I saw that Jay was clinging to the railing behind—and now slightly above—us. I saw a thumbs-up flash between him and Tim, signaling to each other that they both were okay.
Alejandro looked over at Viggo and me and yelled something, pointing to the bow. As I turned, I saw that it was slowly, but inexorably, tilting deeper toward the river, trying to submerge itself rather than float, the waters of the river lapping hungrily around us. We were sinking. Slipping on the slanted deck, I scrambled to my feet, looking around for anything that could get us out of this mess.
Alejandro continued to shout, and now I could make out the words raft and cabin. It took me another too-slow moment to piece together what he was saying, panic making me freeze in shock. And then an old memory of Amber and me going into the cabin flashed in my mind. I recalled a bright yellow and red duffel bag sitting on a built-in shelf.
Beside me, Viggo was getting to his feet, using the railing to steady himself against the slight slant of the boat. His grip on me was like iron, and as I tried to dart toward the cabin, he kept me close to him.
“What is he saying?” he asked me.
“There’s a life raft in the cabin! I’m going to go get it!”
Viggo’s gaze burned into me like I was going insane. “Violet, what if it’s flooding down there? You’ve only got one hand! You can’t go down there.”
As if to prove him right, my hand gave a fresh wave of pain, and I groaned. But couldn’t he see— “It’s the only way we’ll all get out of this alive!”
Viggo didn’t let go of my arm. “Don’t be stubborn, Violet. Just because you can’t get it doesn’t mean it’s lost forever. One of us—”
Just then a young voice cut into our conversation: “I’ll go! I remember where it is!” We both whirled in time to see Jay, who’d moved down the railing closer to us, scrambling carefully toward the raised alcove that held the door to the cabin, his steps uneven on the tilted deck.
“Jay—”
“Jay!”
This time Viggo and I both called out in concern, but he was already on his way.
On the other side of the ship, Ms. Dale was shouting, “Somebody get the weapons! Does this thing have a life raft?”
Alejandro turned to her and began shouting too, and Viggo groaned. “We’ve gotta get everyone organized if we’re all going to make it out of this,” he said to me. “Jay’s tough—he can handle this.”
I turned to follow Viggo to the bow. I knew he was right, but I hated it. Jay was so young to be in constant danger… How could I find a better life for him, let alone my brother and all the boys, if I couldn’t even keep them from risking their lives by following me? But where would be safer?
Thinking about the tangle that was Matrus and Patrus, I was seized by another thought. “The eggs!” I cried. “They’re in the cabin! I’ve gotta tell Jay!”
Viggo gave me an alarmed look, but nodded—I was already moving off after the young man. He let me go, heading toward the bow, and I carefully picked my way across the creaking deck, stepping cautiously so I wouldn’t slip.
It looked like the tilt had slowed Jay down as well. I looked over just in time to see him grabbing the doorframe, swinging inside the wide-roofed entryway that held a small kitchen and a dining area, and heading down the stairs that led to the cabin below deck. A few slippery moments later, I made it to the stairs and started carefully down—although at this point they were more like obstacles than steps. They heaved and swayed with the ship, tilting so sharply down and to the right that on the third step my feet slipped on the narrow wooden planks and I slid into the right wall.
My right hand automatically shot out to stop my fall, and I cried out as a lance of pain jarred my arm, my eyes clenching shut.
“Jay!” I shouted down, tears of pain stinging my eyes. “Where are you?”
A muffled shout came up through the open doorway to the cabin. “Hang on! I’ve almost got it!”
“You need to get my backpack too! We need those eggs!”
“What?” Jay shouted back to me, and I repeated myself, my voice crac
king. This time I was rewarded by hearing him call back, “Okay!”
Scared of slipping again, I stumbled back up the last few steps, leaning against the doorframe and looking toward the bow. The river was already beginning to bubble up toward the railing there, seeping closer to us with every moment. The water had killed whatever fire had lingered, but that wouldn’t matter if the ship went down under us. If we didn’t drown, the river’s toxic water could have long-lasting side effects—they were worse the longer you were exposed and could even result in death. Maybe Tim, who’d fallen into the river at age of eight when I tried to smuggle him into Patrus, had been treated by the Matrian doctors who had also altered his genes and torn away his childhood. But the rest of us wouldn’t have that dubious ‘help’.
My heart lightened just a little to see that on the tilting deck, Viggo had gathered the rest of our party together and they were scrambling up toward me, Owen clutching the bag of weapons, Ms. Dale pulling Alejandro forcibly from the wheel.
“Violet!” Viggo shouted, catching my eye. “We’re getting onto that roof! Do you have the life raft?”
“I’m waiting for Jay!” I called back. I looked back down the hallway and saw something glinting at the base of the stairs, a few steps below the doorway into the cabin—river water. God, it was coming up from below. I opened my mouth to yell when Jay burst from the cabin door, the familiar brightly colored duffel under his arm and my battered bag slung over his shoulder. He charged up the stairs, holding out my bag. “Here!”
As I slung the bag over my left shoulder, Jay thrust the life raft’s duffel into my hands as well, then turned as if to go back down the stairs.
“What are you doing?” I shouted, struggling to hold up the duffel while favoring my injured hand. It was heavier than I’d expected. “There’s water coming up!”
Jay’s voice was pained. He didn’t stop. “Samuel’s down there! He was hiding under the bunk!”
I almost shouted at him to leave the dog behind, but my mouth couldn’t even form the words. The thought of poor Samuel, thinking that hiding under the bed would save him like it always had… If I had been in Jay’s position, I knew I would have done the same thing.
“Hurry!” I yelled down.
A commotion from outside, and a wrenching groan beneath my feet, snapped my attention back to the deck. Viggo was pushing Alejandro up onto the roof of the alcove that sheltered the stairs. I craned my neck and saw that Tim, Owen, and Ms. Dale were already up there, huddled together in the small, flat space.
Alejandro was hauled up by Owen and Ms. Dale, and Viggo came over to me, grabbing the duffel from me and passing it up to Tim’s willing hands above. “Violet,” he said breathlessly, “where’s Jay?”
I pointed down. “He’s getting Samuel—”
Viggo cursed. “The bow is going under, Violet. We all need to be up on that roof in thirty seconds.”
I looked to the right and saw that he was correct—the churning waters of the river lapped at the edge of the railing. Down the stairs, it had risen almost to the level of the cabin door. I listened intently—was that the sound of a dog whining over the churning of the water?
“Jay!” I called helplessly. “The water’s over the deck! Get out!”
“I’m coming!” came the muffled shout.
“Violet,” Viggo said, “get up there! I’ll hoist you!”
“We can’t leave him—”
“I know,” Viggo said, and the pain in his voice told me that he was feeling the same horrifying helplessness I felt. Then, without warning, he grabbed me around the waist and thrust my body up toward the roof, pushing my butt up so that I was forced to scrabble for the flat surface until my brother’s hands yanked me up the rest of the way.
It was just in time. With a wrenching crack and a sucking noise, a huge portion of the front deck cracked, and a surge of toxic water hissed up toward us. “Viggo!” I cried, but he was already pulling himself up by the frame of the door, the wave of water missing his boots by inches.
I scrambled to my feet to see the dazed faces of the rest of the group looking down at the flood that covered the deck, almost a foot deep and rising. Tim released my hands, helping Viggo to his feet and concealing his flinch when he touched him. “Jay?” Tim asked me, his eyes wide. I could only stare at him, a pit opening in my stomach. Behind him, I could see Owen already inflating the life raft, which apparently came with a tiny outboard motor; but his eyes were locked on mine too.
I didn’t have words. “I think—” I started, and then Tim’s eyes bulged and he cried, “Jay!”
I whipped around to see a hand grasping the frame of the door beneath us, fingers trembling. The front end of a whining, wriggling dog appeared from below, and Tim leaned forward to grab Samuel from Jay, whose other hand grabbed the doorframe almost before we’d lifted the dog out of harm’s way. The young man pulled his head and shoulders up, and Tim hurried to help pull him the rest of the way to safety.
Jay panted on his knees at the edge of the roof for a moment. Horrified, I checked to see where the contaminated water had touched him, but his clothes seemed dry. Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief to see him alive, and Tim, a real smile on his face, choked out, “Water—how?”
A little grin broke out on Jay’s face. “I braced my feet on either side of the hall,” he said proudly. “It was a little hard with only one hand.” He looked down like it was nothing, but I saw his face redden slightly as everybody cheered. I was stunned. Only a genetically modified person could have done something like that.
The relief I felt was short-lived, though. I looked at the raft that Owen had leaning out over the rising water, at the size of it and the seven of us, and then at Viggo. Churning water had covered most of the cracking deck beneath us and was rapidly climbing the walls of the stairwell alcove.
“That’s not going to fit all of us,” I whispered, and Alejandro, who had come up behind to congratulate Jay, nodded, his eyes tired.
“It’s designed for four, not seven, but that’s okay,” he said wearily with a small, sad smile on his lips. “It’s better this—”
Before another word could come out of his mouth, Viggo turned, hauling back his arm and punching the older man in the face, being careful to catch him before he fell. I gaped in surprise as Viggo shrugged at me, carefully dragging the now unconscious older man toward the raft.
“He was going to say he should go down with the ship, and we just didn’t have time for the argument,” Viggo said as he passed Alejandro over to Ms. Dale and Owen.
“So you punched him?” I said, leaning unsteadily as the deck tilted more. It was angled so steeply now that it felt like I was one stumble away from rolling down and tumbling into the water below.
“I did what I had to do. Besides… his wife would never forgive me if I let him go down with this rust bucket.”
I rolled my eyes, but I felt a smile drift across my lips. Everything was going to be all right. I looked down at the raft, now bobbing in the rising water. Jay and Tim were in front—Tim cradling Samuel—and Owen and Ms. Dale sat in the rear, with Alejandro sprawled in the middle. The little raft was already overloaded. Owen gave me a look, and I shook my head at him.
“All right,” I said abruptly. “Owen, you and Ms. Dale row everyone to shore. Then, Owen, you come back and grab us. We’ll try to stay out of the water until you get back.”
Tim’s face went pale and he shook his head rapidly, his dark hair flying. “No! Jay. Me. We jump.” He said it with such confidence that I almost considered it. Almost.
“No,” I told him, and he opened his mouth to object, but I wouldn’t let him. “Tim… Jay’s had enough close calls today. Please just listen. We’re going to be all right.”
I could sense Viggo about to insist that I squeeze aboard as well, and without hesitating, I turned and held a finger up to his lips. “Are you going to need a punch in the face, too?” I asked gently, enjoying his surprised expression. “I know that you�
�re going to insist on me going, and I’m going to say not without you, and it’ll go on and on. But really—I won’t leave without you, you won’t leave without me, and now we’re going to be stuck on this boat together, waiting for Owen to come back before we fall in and die.”
Viggo stared back into my eyes, the resistance dying out of his, and nodded.
Whipping back around, I sucked in a long breath. “Go,” I told the rest of them, my tone brooking no disobedience.
They went. The little outboard motor buzzed to life, and the boat took off at a sharp clip toward the Patrian side of the river. Then I turned back to Viggo, who was looking at me with a strange expression.
“What?” I asked.
He shook his head and just smiled. “Nothing. Just… you really are a remarkable woman, you know that?”
I felt myself flush at his compliment, and it sent me soaring, higher than I would think possible for someone on a sinking ship. Then I gazed down at the oncoming water, and felt weariness slice up through my elation.
“So… now what?” I murmured.
7
Viggo
I looked at the water slowly creeping up the deck toward us, not entirely sure how to answer Violet’s question. In true Violet fashion, she had set the stage for either our grand rescue, or our death. Not that I was complaining. Violet was certainly picking up on our own idiosyncrasies, and I had to admit she was right. There had been no way we were leaving this boat without each other, and arguing about it would’ve just wasted time.
It was… better this way. Come good or bad. I ran my tongue over my lower lip and looked back at the place where the helm had been. The roof we were standing on was tilting faster than ever now; only a few feet from us, the boat’s stern was rising out of the water as the bow plunged forward, the back of the deck still dry for the moment.
An idea struck me. “C’mon,” I said, grabbing Violet’s arm and pulling her toward the back. “If we jump back there, we can hang on to the railing at the stern. This thing is going to keep sinking nose first. But if we’re lucky, it’ll slow down, and air will be trapped in the back of the ship. That should keep us afloat long enough for them to get back to us.”
The Gender War Page 5