“Maybe,” Kellen said. “What’s it to you?”
“I thought not.” Foster turned toward the girl’s cell. “You’re grasping in the reeds now, huh, Bourgeois? Trying to get me to buy-in on all your superstitions.”
Marisa peered around Foster, squinting to see Kellen better. She closed her eyes and muttered in a language Kellen couldn’t understand. Then she stopped and opened them again.
“He is a Surface Watcher, a Dweller of the Deep,” she said ominously.
Kellen felt cramps start in his calves and run up to his thighs. He fell on his bunk. Ah…what is happening? Kellen massaged the pain.
Marisa continued. “And I gave you true advice. You should kill him now to save those you love and will leave behind…before he leads you to your doom.”
“Before he leads me to my doom?” Foster said. “Why, he couldn’t even finish the job on some kid according to drunkie over there.”
Marisa leveled her eyes at the deputy. “You claim your name is Foster, but you lie,” she said. “I do not. You will die tonight…Richard Caspar.”
Foster’s face paled.
“Yes. I know your true name. The tides sang it to me…” Marisa closed her eyes and swayed. “Among other things.”
The tides sang it to her? Is this another part of your prank, Dad? Kellen tried to stand. His legs failed him. “Hey, Foster, where did you find this loony?”
Deputy Foster did not share his humor. “What other things?”
Marisa opened her green eyes. “It does not matter. You will not live to see them.”
Foster slammed his palm against her cell. Kellen jumped. Marisa did not.
“You lie, girl,” Foster seethed. “No one can know such things!”
Marisa did not waver. “He is a Sancul,” she continued. “And your fate is sealed, Kaspar…unless you kill him now. Before he learns of our world, before his destiny finds him.”
“Twenty bucks says my destiny is going to prison, right?” Kellen jeered. “Hey, look, I’m a fortune teller too! What’d she say your name is…Casper?”
Foster wheeled on Kellen. “Don’t call me that! That man doesn’t exist anymore!”
“You won’t soon,” Marisa said.
“Stop saying that!”
“Kill him,” she urged. “And swim the green waters in peace, knowing your actions saved others.”
Kellen felt goose pimples on his neck. “Hey! I don’t even know you!” He shouted at Marisa. “Why do you want me dead?”
A single tear ran down Marisa’s cheek. “Because of the monster you will become and the thousands who will die for it. I am sorry. The songs sometimes change, but they do not lie.”
Kellen heard a click.
Foster had unclasped his gun holster. His hand trembled on the grip.
Whoa. What’s he doing?
“How do you know all this?” Foster asked Marisa.
She bowed her head. “I am a Servant of Senchis and the Ancients.”
Kellen felt strange warmth pulsing through his legs. The pain dissipated, and he found himself able to stand again. What just happened?
“Pffftt. Nothing but Salt stories.”
“And yet their songs are still sung,” Marisa said. “They sang to me. And I listened when they told me to run. How else could I have avoided capture from so many for so long? Their songs guided me from slavery long ago, just as they led me here tonight. They will lead me out again…soon.”
“Some place they led you to,” Foster said. He drew his gun from its holster and pointed it at her head. “Did they sing you this song too?”
Whoa. Kellen cowered to the back of his cell.
“They led me here,” said Marisa, unfazed. “Others will soon take us from this place. You will see,” she nodded at Kellen. Then she turned back to Deputy Foster. “You will not.”
Foster’s hand trembled so much he dropped his gun. He scrambled to pick it back up.
The girl’s crazy. He’s crazy. Kellen tried to stay as quiet as he could. He looked over to Boone’s cell in hopes the old drunk might say something to keep Foster from blowing the girl’s head off. Instead, he saw Boone asleep, without snoring for a change, with Foster’s flask tucked against his chest.
Kellen turned back, and saw down the barrel of Foster’s handgun. He nearly wet his pants.
“Tell me what you know of the Salt,” Foster demanded.
“The s-salt? I don’t know anything about any salt.”
“Tell me!”
What is he talking about? “Foster, listen,” said Kellen. “I’m not lying. I don’t—”
A bellowing roar echoed from somewhere deep in the main station, followed by gunfire in quick succession.
Foster spun to face the entrance. Bright spectrums of light shone from his earrings.
Kellen blinked. Did his earrings…flash?
“They have come, Caspar,” Marisa said ominously. “Do what must be done.”
Foster sneered as he removed a chain of keys from his pocket. He opened Marisa’s door, yanked her out, and pushed her up against the cell next to Kellen’s. “Bryant can decide what to do with him. Don’t move.”
Kellen looked at Marisa. She did not seem near as afraid now, resigned even to obey Foster’s order. Kellen heard the clink of another lock popping.
Foster had opened his door. He had also trained his aim at Kellen’s head. “Out! Now. And put your hands behind your back.”
Kellen turned around. “Okay…just don’t…don’t shoot me.”
Foster slapped on the metal bracelets, tightening them so deep Kellen thought he might lose circulation.
The roars came more frequent now, and Kellen swore he heard shotgun fire added to the fray.
“Bourgeois,” Foster barked. “Ladies first.”
Marisa stepped in front of Kellen, her head held high. She led the way down the aisle toward the jail block entrance.
Foster pushed Kellen in the direction of the noise. “Walk.”
Kellen heard someone screaming. More gunfire. More roaring. He stopped. What’s happening out there…and why are we going toward it?
A gun barrel pressed against the back of his head, and he felt a tickle in his ear as Foster leaned close to give the command.
“Move.”
LENNY
The shotgun blast blew a hole in the desk behind Lenny.
Move! Move! Move! Hunched low, he ran to a nearby cubicle. Lenny slid in and used his head to nudge away the rolling chair. He crawled beneath the desk, and sat up, leaned out to take another look.
The main processing desk had been uprooted, flipped on its side to provide cover. He saw the elder Selkie, Deputy Smith, raise his gun and point it. Lenny ducked behind the desk, tucked his head.
Gunshots ripped through the siding where he had just been and marble chips exploded off the floor.
“Ya missed me, Smitty!” Lenny yelled above the din.
More shots followed.
Hell’s bells. Lenny took a deep breath. One…two…three!
Lenny darted out and ran for the next cubicle. Shots ricocheted around him. He dove beneath the next desk.
Paulo’s roar carried throughout the room.
Lenny crawled to his knees. Through the makeshift cubicle slats, he saw an officer firing his weapon at random. The sheriff hunkered low beside him, reloading his shotgun. Lenny saw a door to their backs.
A shotgun blast eradicated one of Lenny’s cubicle walls. He cringed and his earrings flashed. I’m pinned down. There’s two of ’em in front of a door marked as processin’. If any of ya can get there—
Lenny heard a loud, long hiss followed by a man’s bloodcurdling scream. He peeked through the slats again.
A slender, silvery seal with black spots and a snake-like head had surprised the sheriff and his officer.
Henry!
The sheriff wasted no time in leaving the officer behind.
“Campbell, get outta there!”
The officer reacted too
slowly.
All nine hundred pounds of Henry’s seal body crashed into Campbell, knocking him down. Henry hissed again, then clamped his seal jaws around Campbell’s neck. With a quick, savage jerk, he ripped out Campbell’s throat. Henry dropped the limp body, and hissed at the sheriff with blood-stained teeth.
No! Lenny moved forward.
Another shotgun blast cautioned him back.
He watched helplessly as the sheriff ran from the carnage, his belly bouncing like a water balloon.
Lenny heard two popping sounds and saw a pair of button-sized holes appear in the sheriff’s chest. The sheriff fell dead and skidded a few feet, careening into the first desk Lenny hid behind. An expanding pond of dark crimson seeped out to surround him.
Oscar stepped from behind the processing door to see his kill. Grinning smugly, he lowered his gun. His earrings flashed. Did you all see that? Did you all see me shoot him? And on the run too! Father will be so proud!
“Die, you demons!”
The glass in the processing door shattered. Oscar dipped behind it.
Lenny’s earrings flashed. Henry! Earn ya keep already!
The Leopard Seal hissed in reply, and slithered over to protect his benefactor.
Oscar! Free Henry!
Lenny saw Oscar grab hold of the seal’s upper lip and pull back. The sealskin melted away.
The officer behind the desk screamed. “Demons! They’re demons!” he cried, firing anew.
Henry, Lenny shouted. Get Oscar outta here.
“He killed Dick Hullinger,” the officer behind the overturned desk said. “That boy killed the sheriff.”
Lenny saw Deputy Smith try in vain to pull the officer back to safety. “Murphy, get back here, you fool!”
Murphy would not be stopped. He walked straight for the processing door, firing his gun with every step.
Henry shoved Oscar inside and closed the door.
“Die you devils!” Murphy cried. “Die!”
His gun clicked empty.
Run, ya idiot.
Henry burst out of the door, his jagged coral dagger in hand. He leapt straight at Murphy with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
Murphy screamed.
Henry thrust his blade into Murphy’s chest, twisting it at the last, silencing him forever.
Lenny grimaced.
And now zere eez only one, Henry said.
“Come on then!” Smith called out from behind the safety of the desk. “Anyone can kill Drybacks, you sorry Selkie slavers! Let’s see how you handle one of your own.”
Smith leaned over the side and took pot shots at a row of tipped filing cabinets. The shots sparked off the sides.
Paulie, Lenny said. Where are ya?
You see where he’s shooting? That’s where I am. The old man’s had me pinned down since the second he saw my ugly mug.
I’ll give—
Lenny stopped. The back corner door had been opened and a shaved-headed teen tossed amongst the fray. The teen’s wrists had been cuffed and he stumbled on the remnants of table, chairs, and flooring. Lenny thought his eyes looked wild, but whatever fear the teen had did not paralyze him.
The teen used his long legs to push backward and scramble inside an empty cubicle. At every lapse in the gunfire, the teen worked his way to the next space, always moving closer to the exit.
At least he’s no fool. Lenny thought to himself.
Lenny pictured Paulo in his mind. His earrings flashed. Paulie. I’m gonna give ya a distraction. When I say go, get movin’.
Aye, aye, boss.
Lenny stood, put his hands to the edges of the cubicle. Ready…one…two…go!
Lenny shoved away. “Hey, Smitty!”
He ran for the handcuffed teen’s cubicle.
Shots sang out always just behind him.
Lenny heard Paulo roar. He glanced over his shoulder, saw Paulo in his Salt form slop toward the main desk.
Paulo bled from several wounds, but still his tank of an Elephant Seal body continued. He roared again and crashed into the desk, his sheer force breaking it in half.
Smith leapt clear of the debris.
No! Lenny skidded to a halt, and turned to go back.
Smith raised his gun to Paulo’s seal head. “Die, you motherless—”
Lenny dove at the older Selkie’s kneecaps.
“Ah!” Smith cried out. His shot went wild, his gun clattering to the floor.
Paulo shuffled over, and laid his enormous weight across Smith’s body.
Lenny heard Smith suck air. “Stay down, Smitty!”
“Dolan!”
Lenny whipped around at hearing his name called. He cursed when he saw Deputy Foster in the doorway the shaved-headed teen had been kicked from. He cursed again when he saw Foster held a gun to his hostage, Marisa Bourgeois.
“I got what you’re looking for,” said Foster. “Now tell that piece of blubber to move!”
“Richie…no…” Smith coughed.
“Ya really gonna kill her, Fosta?” Lenny shouted back. “Go for it. I don’t need her alive. We’ll kill ya and then take her body back. End result’s the same for us.”
“I don’t believe you!”
“Ya don’t have to.”
Keep ‘im talking, nipperkin, Henry said.
Lenny saw movement from the corner of his eye; Henry inched forward while Oscar moved along a side cubicle, both of them hidden from Foster’s view.
They’re gonna trap him.
“Let her go, Fosta,” Lenny said. “It’s the only way ya walkin’ outta here alive.”
Lenny heard clinking metal. His gaze swept to the left. The teen convict had hopped to his feet, and his cuffs had echoed off the filing cabinet he used for support. He ran for the conference hall door.
“No!” Lenny shouted. “Stay down!”
Foster instinctually turned to see to whom Lenny spoke.
Oscar’s sick laugh echoed in Lenny’s mind. And now you die.
Lenny dropped to the floor, thinking the threat had been meant for him.
Two gunshots rang out.
Lenny saw the bullets rip through Foster’s neck. His blood splattered the nearby wall like someone flicked a wet paintbrush against it.
Foster fell like a mannequin with no rod to support it. His body crumpled to the floor, his eyes still open. They lifelessly stared at the teen convict.
“No!” Deputy Smith howled, reaching.
He’s dead.
Lenny half-expected Marisa to dash away, now freed from her captor. Instead, he saw her gaze hone in on the teen convict. She solemnly nodded at him, then knelt beside Foster’s body and bowed her head in prayer.
The teen stood in the door as if frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from the dead marshal staring back at him.
Lenny’s focus flickered between the two of them, Marisa and the teen convict. Who are ya, pup? And why is Marisa Bourgeois so interested in ya?
CHIDI
Chidi wanted to scream, to struggle and fight her iron bonds. She did neither. Experience had taught her it would do no good and would leave her exhausted.
She could not say whether a minute or hours had passed since she had been locked away. Time itself seemed swallowed up in the blanketing dark.
Please let in a little light, she prayed. Just a little light.
Her left eye ached from where Henry had struck her. The pain from her throbbing forehead she welcomed. She would relish the memory of slamming her skull into his for the rest of her life. In those few seconds, she had been free of him.
She would add it to her special memories, those of home and family. Her mother singing while she fixed the fish nets, her father’s baritone voice, even the joy she once felt watching dolphins skip waves off the coast before she knew the truth about them.
This trip to the Hard had brought new memories she would hold to—the knowledge in Marisa’s notebooks, how she challenged them atop the Shedd Aquarium’s ledge, and her graceful dive.
“Ther
e is always a choice,” Chidi whispered aloud, despite the soreness in her throat.
Henry may have robbed Chidi of her innocence, her home, even ravaged her body, but he could not take away her choices. Chidi repeated it in the Afrikaans language Marisa first spoke to her, drawing strength from the words made real.
“Daar is altyd 'n keuse…”
Chidi tried to arch her back. Pain shot through her bound limbs. She screamed, knowing no one could hear her.
It’ll all be over soon, she tried to calm herself.
Henry may help the others catch the Orcinian, but he would take her and leave once he received his payment. Then he would court her again in his own sick way, speaking endlessly about the things he would do to her upon their return to his cave. How no one could ever love her like he did.
Chidi turned her head to retch. She rubbed her cheek against the floor in an attempt to scrape off the remainder of vomit. It only succeeded in wetting the side of her face further. She turned away to blow the last bits of puke and reflected back on her newest companions to stave off any other thoughts of Henry.
She hadn’t wasted time befriending Paulo or Racer. Any friendship there could not last. Ellie had been the closest thing to a female friend Chidi had made since being taken, but she still felt little kinship there.
And Lenny. Chidi wished for more time to know him better and allow him to truly know her.
She would have no chance now that Henry locked her in the under. He may bring her up a few times to lay with him, but he would not dream of letting her leave his side for long. Nor would he give her earrings back to speak with the others. He would keep her not just in the physical darkness, but deaf to the conversations she might have listened in on and enjoyed.
She heard a clunking near her feet and thought a rat had possibly stowed away with her. A swoosh came from the hold door’s automatic springs. Light fought through the darkness, then she heard a clanking of keys. Hands worked feverishly at the locks on her legs.
“Who’s there?” Chidi asked, her voice hoarse. Who cares! Don’t ask them any questions. They might go away!
“It’s me...Ellie!”
The shackles made a loud cracking noise and fell off, rattling when they landed on the floorboard.
“Ellie! What are you doing here?” Chidi whispered, afraid someone might overhear.
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