Raging Sea

by Michael Buckley

  “There is not much time,” he argues.

  “I know. I . . . I just can’t do this. I can’t be around you. I don’t understand how your mind works and . . . and when I look at you, I only think about our night and I don’t want to think about that anymore. I’m so over all of this.”

  “Your anger with me is misplaced, Lyric Walker,” he snaps.

  “Your buddy Spangler cut Arcade’s hand off, Fathom. He has tortured your people. He’s tormented my family, and he’s sending me to die. You’re helping him. I think my anger is placed pretty well.”

  I hear the door bang open and watch Arcade stalk into the room. Two guards run after her with cattle prods. Bex is with them, as is my mother.

  “Lyric, run!” Bex shouts.

  I have to admit, I didn’t see this coming. I knew she was angry with me, but I assumed we had mutual enemies.

  “Arcade, I’m sorry,” I say, but she doesn’t listen. Instead, she leaps from one end of the room to the other, crashing down on top of me. I had no idea she could do something so incredible, and I’m completely unprepared. I tumble back into the grass and stare up at her growling face.

  “You have insulted me, Lyric Walker.”

  “Arcade, stop,” my mother demands. “I am a Daughter of Sirena and your elder. You will stop this fighting at once.”

  “My offense will be answered,” Arcade cries.

  Her Kala spring from her arms, and she cries out in pain. The damage to her hand is affecting their release, but now that they’re out, she races at me, swinging her arms, trying to cut me in half.

  “I have paid a high price since meeting you, bottom feeder. I promise you now that you will pay in kind.”

  “Arcade, stop it!” Bex shouts, but the Triton ignores her.

  She springs into the air faster than I can react and comes down on me again. Her arms rise high, the edges of her blades locked on my neck, and then she brings them down. There is a crash and an explosion of sparks. Fathom has extended his own blades and has blocked her from chopping off my head.

  “No,” he says firmly. “I am responsible for your offense. I alone will bear your vengeance.”

  Arcade leaps to her feet. The fury is replaced by a cool contempt.

  “Do you love this thing?” she asks him, waving at me.

  He takes a deep breath and nods.

  “How deeply?”

  “We mated,” he says.

  “Lyric!” my mother cries angrily.

  I’m too afraid of how Arcade is going to respond to be horrified, but she takes the news calmly.

  “You are right, Fathom. It was you who have offended me. We are betrothed. We are selfsame.”

  “You don’t love me,” he says to her. “Both our hearts belong to others, Daughter of Triton. I ask for you to release me from the bonds of our parents so that we can find the happiness we both want.”

  “Wait! Don’t include me in this,” I snap, crawling to my feet. “I don’t want him.”

  Arcade’s blades slide back into her forearms.

  “There is tradition, Fathom, Son of Triton,” she argues. “The traditions of our empire and our clan that existed for thousands of years before the Alpha. We can’t cast them off.”

  “The Triton are no more. What are the uses of traditions designed for a prince when there is no kingdom to rule? There is only now, and those who still live, and we can build a new way. You could be with him, Arcade.”

  “Who?”

  “The one you love.” He smiles. “I have eyes, you know.”

  I am so lost right now. All I know is that she doesn’t look like she wants to kill me.

  “I release you,” he says.

  “And I you,” she whispers.

  “Don’t do this for me,” I insist.

  “I do not do anything for you, half-breed,” Arcade snarls, and stalks past me. She bends and kneels before my mother.

  “Forgive my insult, Daughter of Sirena,” she begs.

  My mother rests her hand on Arcade’s head, then helps her stand.

  “You have my respect, young one,” she says.

  Arcade allows the two guards to escort her back to the room, and soon she is gone.

  “Um, what just happened?” Bex whispers.

  “Lyric Walker, we need to have a talk,” my mother growls from across the room.

  Bex turns her head so my mother can’t see her laughing at me.

  “Please tell me I’m going to get to hear the two of you talk about how you ‘mated,’” she whispers.

  I wave my glove at her. “You’re lucky they turned this off.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  I PRACTICE ON MY OWN. SPANGLER AGREES TO TURN OFF THE EMP, and I conjure the most violent creations ever, each one of them ripping him limb from limb in my imagination. There is so much anger and frustration in me, it fuels a surge in my control. Suddenly my ability multiplies tenfold. I experiment with different shapes, more shocking attacks. I can make a pretty wicked whip that can slice a tree in two. Arcade was right. I was holding back.

  When the children file in, I’m expecting sleepy, but what I get is solemn. Tess, Emma, and Jane, already frail to begin with, look as if they might crumble under the weight of their own grief. William and Leo are distraught, as are Angela Benningford’s children. Spangler stands with them and does his best to look concerned. When Riley spots me, he breaks off from the rest and hurries to my side. His eyes are red and bewildered.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “Their human parents died from the sickness,” he says.

  “What?”

  “Donovan says the doctors did all they could to save them. Lyric, I’m worried about my mom. She’s been in the infirmary for almost two years. She could be next.”

  Spangler moves from child to child, giving them each his sad face and a hug, but his eyes are on mine daring me to react. These kids didn’t lose their parents to a sickness. Spangler had them killed to give the children some raw emotion to fuel their weapons. It’s so evil, it’s staggering.

  “This is a tragedy,” he has the nerve to say. “And I’m afraid I only have more bad news. We’ve discovered that the illness your parents have contracted was created by the Rusalka. They brought the disease to the shore on purpose in hopes of infecting as many people as they could. They don’t care about human life, kids. They don’t understand what’s important to us—family, compassion, and freedom, and they hate us for it. I want you to think about that when you’re training with Lyric and David today. If you’re feeling anger, heartbreak, and revenge, then use it. Let it power you.”

  Riley leads me over to the group and I step through the crowd to wrap my arms around as many of the kids as I can.

  “I am so sorry,” I say.

  “We need to practice,” Cole says through tears. “I’m going to make them pay for killing my dad.”

  His glove shines bright, as do all the others. They raise their hands and they radiate so intensely, I have to shield my eyes.

  By the end of the session, every child manages to move the water, some with explosive and violent results. The loss has activated more than their power. It has ignited a call for vengeance, turning them all into killers. Spangler watches his handiwork with proud satisfaction.

  “You’re going to get justice for your families,” he says as the children leave for the day. He pats each one on the back and tells them all to be brave. He tells them that only they can make sure no one died in vain.

  Chloe hangs back for a moment and gives me a hug.

  “If my mommy dies, will you take care of me?”

  I kneel down so that my eyes are level with hers, then press my forehead against her own. Her skin is cool.

  “Nothing is going to happen to your mommy. I promise,” I whisper. “Go with the others. Get some rest.”

  Chloe runs off with her stuffed rabbit in hand, leaving Spangler and myself alone in the park. We stare hard at each other, the tension between us stretching ta
ut to the point of snapping.

  “Two days,” he says to me, as if it justifies murder.

  I hear the doors crash open and watch Doyle racing toward us. He tackles Spangler and knocks him to the ground. “You filthy—”

  “I told you to get it done. You failed, so I took care of it.”

  Doyle clenches his fist, and for a few moments I’m sure he’s going to slam it into Spangler’s face, but he somehow finds the strength to hold back.

  “I have to check on our client,” Spangler says, when he gets to his feet.

  We watch him leave, and once he’s gone, Doyle turns to me, his face a dark soup of disgust and regret.

  “Lyric, this thing between you and me stops now. I know you’re angry, and I don’t expect you to understand my point of view. I thought this would work. I thought I could save everybody, but I know when I am wrong. This ends today.”

  “What are you going to do?” I ask.

  “I’m going to kill that monster.”

  Everything feels hot and red and sharp. I study Darren’s face and then Calvin’s as they escort me back to my room, wondering if they can read my mind. I’m sure everyone knows what Doyle and I are planning. Feeling a hint of the old madness I felt when I was locked in the cell. They can see into your head. They will tell Spangler. It’s irrational, but I can’t shake it.

  “Lyric, what’s wrong?” my father asks as he rises from the floor. He’s been doing pushups again, and Mom has been scolding him.

  “Spangler killed Tom Benningford.”

  “Angela’s husband?” my father asks.

  “And a few more of the human parents,” I cry.

  Arcade steps into the room. She eyes me warily, and I gasp.

  “I didn’t expect you to still be here,” I say to her.

  “Finish your story,” she demands.

  I shake off the awkwardness the best I can.

  “Spangler decided the kids needed some kind of tragedy to motivate them, and it worked. They can all use the gloves now.”

  “Bastard,” my mother says through gritted teeth.

  “Doyle is going to stop him. He wants me to help,” I whisper. I have no idea if we are being monitored, but it seems smart to listen to my paranoia and be careful.

  “What are you going to do?” Bex says.

  I walk over to the Japanese soaking tub and turn on both faucets. It causes a racket in the room so loud, I hope we can’t be heard. Everyone gathers around while the sound drowns out our words.

  “He wants me to bring all the kids back into the park for another training session tonight. He’s going to turn off the security system. It connects a whole bunch of things—the cells, the tanks, and the EMP that blocks my connection to the water. Doyle says it takes five minutes to reboot the computer, and then everything gets locked up again, but the EMP has to be manually reset. The switch is outside. When he blows the system, he wants me to raise hell and destroy as much as I can on my way to the tanks. Then he wants me to open them all and free as many Alpha as possible while he destroys the EMP reset console.”

  “Lyric, this is dangerous,” my father says, his voice struggling with being low. “Can you trust him? Doyle has betrayed you over and over again.”

  “I don’t see any other way.”

  “You can’t do this. It’s one thing for him to play hero and another to use my daughter as part of the plan,” he argues. “What happens when Spangler sends soldiers after the two of you?”

  “He’s going to kill Spangler.”

  Everyone is as quiet as if their words are locked inside a trunk at the bottom of the ocean. I sit down on the side of the tub and try to catch my breath, while fighting back a wave of nausea. My mother takes the space next to me and rubs my back with her hand.

  “Doyle knows Spangler will come out there himself to reset the machine, and that’s when he’s going to do it.”

  “All right, how do we get you out of this?” Bex says.

  I shake my head. “If there’s a chance to get out of here, shouldn’t I take it?”

  “There’s no going back afterward,” Bex whispers. “I have nightmares about it every night.”

  “Bex, what are you talking about?” my father asks.

  “I shot Russell,” she says. Her expertly built walls crumble around her, and tears escape. Days before the Rusalka appeared in Coney Island, the same night that her stepfather helped a gang beat Shadow to death, Bex vanished with the “just in case” gun my father hid at the bottom of my backpack. Three days later she came back, but my family was knee-deep in the just-in-case we had always feared. There was no time to ask her what happened, and as days passed, I lost the courage. Maybe I didn’t want the answer.

  “I told him to meet me on the rooftop over the furniture store. I told him he could do whatever he wanted to me if he left Tammy alone.”

  “Rebecca,” my father says, reaching for her, but she flinches.

  “I let him kiss me, let him . . . I tried to be strong and make him think I was into it, but I started crying.”

  “Bex, no.”

  “But it only got him more excited. I realized he wasn’t attracted to me at all. My tears were what did it for him. He was never going to stop, so I shot him.”

  “Honey,” my mother gasps.

  “The bullet missed, and the kickback made me drop the gun. When I knelt down to pick it up, he tackled me, and we fought for it. He told me he was going to do the same thing to Tammy that he did to Shadow, and he was going to make me watch. Then he was going to do it to me, and then . . . I still don’t know how I got the gun back, but it was in my hand, and I pulled the trigger again. The bullet went right between his eyes, like in a cowboy movie. Smoke came out, and then he called me a bitch, and then that was it.”

  I leap up from my seat and rush to her, pulling her into my arms. She turns her face away and tries to free herself, but I hold on tight.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.

  “I didn’t want to tell anyone,” she whispers as she studies my father.

  He shakes his head. He’ll keep her secret.

  “Bex, what happened to his body?” he asks.

  “There was a gap between the furniture store and the apartments next door where the buildings had shifted. It was just big enough, so I rolled him over to the edge. No one would ever find him there, at least not until they demolished the buildings.”

  “The tidal wave made sure that would never happen,” I say.

  “And the gun?” my mom asks.

  “I dropped the gun over the side.”

  “Russell killed Shadow. He did horrible things to you and Tammy,” I remind her.

  “But the most horrible thing he did was turn her into a murderer,” my father says. “Killing changes a human being. I shot a man who was attacking people with a knife on the boardwalk, and it has never left me. I’m not saying I wouldn’t do it again, or even that Spangler shouldn’t be stopped, but there are repercussions to taking a man’s life. Doyle is the soldier. He has been trained to kill. Let him do it.”

  “He can’t do it by himself. What if he fails? There’s only a couple days left,” I say. “What if I wake up tomorrow and find out Spangler’s killed more of the parents? I couldn’t live with myself.”

  “If you kill Spangler, you might stop the children from being sent back to Coney Island,” my mother says to me, then turns to my father. “It could save their lives.”

  “You must,” Arcade says. “Look around you. Look at what he has created. He has to pay the price for this evil.”

  My mother takes my hands and kneels before me.

  “Do it,” she says.

  “Summer!” my father cries.

  “This place is death, and the people who work here feed off the corpse, Leonard. Spangler is the worst. If Lyric can stop him, she has to do it. She’s the only one who can,” my mother argues, then turns back to me. “Lyric, you are Sirena, my daughter, and the greatest regret of my life is teaching
you to hide from it. Our clan is built on diplomacy, but your blood is made of countless warriors. You must fight like your grandparents and their parents before them. It is time for this camp to learn that you count yourself among them. If Doyle manages to turn that machine off, then I want you to hit this place hard and wipe it off the map.”

  Chapter Twenty

  IT ALL GOES DOWN AFTER DINNER. I MOVE FOOD AROUND ON MY PLATE, unable to shake the thought that I’m about to help a man kill another. Spangler should die, but with each passing minute, I feel my role in it getting heavier and heavier.

  Bex sits next to me. Her hand is on mine underneath the table. She has not abandoned me, though I know there have been times since we left Brooklyn when it made perfectly good sense to walk away. It was she, my besty, who steered me off a course of death. Sadly, I have found myself back on it.

  My father is trying to be strong for me. My mother is resolute, revealing a side of herself that I never would have expected. And all around me are the children, eating their dinners, making ice cream sundaes, chattering away about the battle they are all so eager to join. I ache for what lies ahead if something isn’t done to make sure they never get there. Spangler will drop us all into the middle of a bloodbath, but he can’t if he is no longer breathing.

  I give the people I love a quick glance. My mother nods. My father does as well. Bex takes a deep breath and tries not to cry. I give her hand a squeeze, a little promise that I will not let this change me. I don’t know if it’s possible to keep my word, but I’m going to try.

  “Have the kids meet me in the park,” I tell Darren.

  He calls over some guards, who offer to escort me, then calls Spangler on his radio.

  “I love you,” my mother says.

  “We all do,” my father adds.

  I look to Bex.

  “Good luck,” she whispers.

  “Do not fail,” Arcade says. “And do not hold back.”

  Every step to the park feels like a trudge through cement. I waffle back and forth a hundred times on the plan, wanting to run back to my family and hide, then determined to help Doyle. All the while, my thoughts do a number on me. Spangler is smarter than Doyle and me. The guards side with him. He has been one step ahead of us the whole time. But then my anger takes charge. He put you in a cage. He chopped off Arcade’s hand. He’s killing people.