“Why is she having them go to the deck?” Thacher asks the man.
“She’s playing with Arya’s weakness,” I blurt out. “She’s putting them in the line of fire to force the Sisters to stop their attack.”
Thacher looks at me, offering no words. He knows I’m right.
Just as he’s about to turn to the man, a second explosion rips through the vessel’s hull just down the corridor from my cell. James and the man are knocked to the ground. I tighten my grip on the bars and manage, somehow, to stay upright. Smoke fills the room and sparks fly from exposed wiring near a massive crack in the vessel’s wall. Water floods in and rushes the corridor. I gasp as the cool water hits my ankles and rises up the walls of my cell. The officer’s limp body floats past me, blood gushing from his head. The water reaches my knees and I viciously rattle the bars.
“Someone?” I call out, mind scrambling with what I can say to get help in here. “Thacher… er, I mean the Lieutenant needs assistance!”
The alarm shuts off, leaving only the sound of the rushing water to amplify my fear. The briny scent of seawater fills the air and I shiver as the water soaks my waist. Even with the overwhelming flow of water, my enhancements, not affected by this belt, make it easy for me to detect something outside the vessel’s wall.
“In here!” I bellow.
Inch by inch, the water creeps closer to my neck. Out of the corner of my eye, a reddish blur enters through the flood from the breach in the hull. That scarlet hair means one thing, one person—Arya. But after what I did …
My feet no longer touch the floor. Darting back and forth, I peer between the bars searching for her. There she is. She’s supporting an unconscious Thacher over one shoulder as she swims back toward the opening. For her small size she is surprisingly strong. The onslaught of rising water rushing in is no match for her swimming ability.
“Hey! Wait!” I shout as she passes by my cell.
Even soaked, the vibrant hue of her hair streaks across the foaming water she effortlessly swims through. She pops her head up and glances my way before stopping, the illumination of the emergency lights flicker in her green eyes. “Peter?”
“Hey there, Arya.” I grin, struggling to remain afloat. “Nice to see ya.”
She doesn’t find my wit amusing. Come to think of it, maybe I shouldn’t either.
“Well, this is fitting,” she says, looking over my situation. “I don’t have time for you. I have real people to save.”
Readjusting her former boyfriend’s body, she heads to the opening again.
“Wait, wait, wait!” I beg. “You’re not going to let me die here?”
“You mean just like how you left my sisters and me to die in Nerissa’s compound? I’ve got people to save.”
Before I can get another word in, she’s gone, Thacher in tow. The vessel sways and creaks as it sinks further. Swallowing water leaves me gagging, the saltwater burning my throat, choking as I try to breathe. The ship tilts to the back. Grabbing the bars, I guide myself up to the corner of the cell where a pocket of air has gathered.
This won't end well. Nerissa is going to win, thanks to Arya.
The pocket closes inch by inch.
A gurgling sounds as a gathering of bubbles roils up to the surface of the water. Warmth from something tingles on my legs. Looking down, I see flashes of light, and then Arya surfaces, wiping water from her eyes.
“Just shut up and take my waist,” she says.
A deep breath, and we’re under, passing the seared open bars of my cell. My engineered eyesight is no match for the debris and bubbles she pulls us through. We surface and skim into the corridor. I grip her waist a little too tight and she swats at my wrist. A crack of light filters the chaos as we approach the breach in the hull. Gulping for air, we go under. I fight to hold onto her in the onslaught of water rushing past until we burst to the surface. Another deep inhale eases my panic.
Arya gives me an odd look as I continue to grip her waist. My hands fly off as I tread water. Turning, I see people flailing in the water while the unsubmerged half of the ship burns. Arya’s sisters are trolling the area in their craft, gathering surviving civilians.
“Hey, over here,” Arya says.
She leads me to a pod runner. Her vessel has a couple of these attached for emergencies. Since it’s here, I guess this is an emergency. Not much bigger than two or three yards across and maybe five or six yards long, they are still pretty fancy.
Arya signals one of her sisters on the main craft, floating several yards out from us. The pretty blonde one, I think. Heck, her entire clan is beautiful. I’ve always wondered if Nerissa engineered their appearance, too.
Reaching the runner, I climb the side and flop into its belly. Arya kneels beneath the dark glass awning. To my surprise, she’s attending to an unconscious Thacher.
“What the hell?” I bark.
“What, you have a problem?” she snaps back.
“Look, I get it, you saved him. You’re a sweetheart. No, really, an angel. Now strap a life vest on him and dump him over!”
Shaking her head, she glares back at me. “You’re clueless, aren’t you?”
I shrug. “What?”
“James is important to them,” she says. “He’s exactly what I’ve been looking for. Leverage.”
Cracks of gunfire sound in the distance. We turn to see the Sisters’s main vessel under fire from a couple of Syndicate gunboats.
“Oh, no,” Arya sighs.
Scrambling to the front of the runner, I dig through a few boxes lining the control area, but find nothing. No weapons of any kind.
“Weapons?” I plead.
“This isn’t meant for battle,” she says. “We have to go, now.”
“Go? Go where? What about your Sisters?”
Tying some cords around Thacher’s wrists, she secures him to the side rails. “They can take care of those boats. We should get him out of here.”
“A freak of nature and heartless … nice,” I chuckle.
Ignoring my jibe, she climbs into the pilot’s seat and engages the engine. It hums softly. The Sister’s crafts are high-tech, better than the majority of the random crap that roams the sea. The roof extends, closing in the pod as we zip away from the sinking vessel.
Coasting along the surface, we clear the battle and reach the safety of the open sea. I gaze out onto the endless horizon. The entire planet is little more than one giant ball of water now, for the most part. It’s been this way for longer than I’ve been alive. The immense pockets of water that broke through the Earth’s crust so long ago are still seeping from the ocean’s floor to this day.
“Alright, we’re clear,” Arya says. “I'll hail the Scylla.”
I look at Thacher, slumped over on a bench. The idea of him in this boat makes me uneasy. Even though he’s disagreed with his stepmother at every turn, he fights in their army. He’s responsible for the lives of countless innocent people that dared to challenge Nerissa.
“The comms are out,” Arya mutters. “I asked Derya to fix this weeks ago.”
“This means?” I ask.
She fidgets with the display. “It means we’re disconnected from them.”
I slide up on the bench across from Thacher, just behind her. “Let’s just go back to your hideout or whatever.”
“This runner doesn’t have the range. We won’t make it.”
“Won’t they search for you?”
Turning, she rests an arm over her seat and says, “We’re well out of the Scylla’s scanner range. Our protocols are to lead combatants as far from our last location as possible. They could be anywhere.”
“We can’t stay here with him.” I point to Thacher. “He’ll come to eventually.”
She gets up and leans in to check his pulse. Inspecting his head, she notices a large bump from the battle. “He took a bad hit,” she says. “He’s going to require medical attention.”
“Fine. What’s our location?”
“We’re about ten clicks from the Eastern NeverSea. Why?”
If I could get this dumb restraint off, I wouldn’t need to do this, but what I need isn’t here. The tech in this belt even counters my enhanced strength. I need to play my hand.
“That’ll work.”
“What will work?” she asks, squinting at me.
Leaning in, I rest my elbows on my knees. “It’s time to find the Lost Boys.”
Chapter 3
Arya
The water outside tosses our craft about easily. I’d feel better about this mess if we could submerge, but these emergency pods don’t do that. They’re only designed for short distances, so along the water we skim, sitting ducks. Behind me, James’s breathing has grown increasingly rapid, and Peter keeps trying to make annoying small talk as if we’re friends or something.
Why in the world did I go back for him? I should have just taken James, and the situation would have been a whole lot less complicated.
Because I’m a sucker, that’s why.
And now he’s talking about the Lost Boys. Who are they except a band of hooligans? And their self-appointed ringleader? Peter, of course. Although, I heard there was some sort of falling out, so I’m not sure why he wants to get back to them. The Sisters and I ran across the group a few times over the last year, and those boys are nothing but trouble.
But what choice do I have? Even if I get to the girls, Una will have a fit about my plan for James. Maybe Peter can prove himself useful.
“Hey,” I call back to Peter. “What’s so special about the Sanctuary, anyway? It’s just three rocky points jutting from the ocean.”
“Duh, it’s land. When’s the last time you felt solid ground?”
“I enjoy the pull of the water. I’m designed for it, remember?”
He’s right, though. I haven’t seen land besides the Sanctuary’s pathetic peaks in years. The closest comparison to it now is the few floating settlements that harbor most of the people left on Earth. If you’re not living on one, you’re stuck on a vessel or in a domed habitat under the ocean like my father’s Atlantis Project.
The front of the pod pitches up, virtually throwing me from my seat, breaking me from my thoughts. I review the coordinates Peter gave me and compare them to our current position.
“Not far now. Good thing. This ship won’t make it if a storm comes.”
Peter grunts a response, and I turn to find him fiddling with that metal belt around his waist again.
“Trying to get that off?” I ask.
“What do you think?”
I fumble in my pocket for the small plasma welding torch I used to cut open Peter’s cell back on the ship, pulling it out and lifting it to show him. “We can try this.”
Peter glances at the torch, then back at me dubiously. “You know how to use that? What if you cut off something you’re not supposed to?”
I scoff. “And what would that be, Peter?”
“You know, maybe my arm or … something.”
I roll my eyes at his childishness. “I won't cut off your arm. Now get over here before he wakes up.” I flick my gaze to James, still passed out. Pressing a few buttons on the console, I set the steering commands to auto.
The pod’s not big enough for him to stand in, so Peter scoots over toward me and yanks up his tattered white shirt. I study the belt, searching for any weak spots that might be easy to break through. Locating one, I click on the plasma torch. A sapphire flame appears, making an electric crackling sound.
“Now hold still,” I say, biting my lower lip in concentration.
Peter’s eyes grow wide and he jerks back, throwing his hand in the air. “No way, lady. I’m fine for now. Elijah will remove this as soon as we find him. You have to steer, anyway.”
I flick off the torch and the blue flame disappears. “You’re such a baby,” I mutter, stowing the tool back in a secure side cubby.
Peter narrows his eyes, offended, but doesn’t speak.
“Who’s Elijah, again?” I ask.
“The Lost Boy’s tech guy—a genius. And with him, I won’t come out missing anything in the end.”
I shrug and go back to navigating the pod. “I could have done it.”
“Yeah, but right now let’s worry about that guy.” Peter nods back to James. “Why is it we have him?”
There’s no way I’ll admit to Peter all the reasons James is with us. Part of me still feels the guilt of what I did the last time I saw James, the night we escaped from Nerissa. The memory stabs at my stomach, but I push it away and tell Peter what I can.
“I won't toss him. No one would find him out here, and James is valuable to the witch. You know he’s her stepson.”
Peter lets out a sound of disgust. “Of course I know that. How could I forget?”
“He was always nice to me.”
Peter crosses his arms. “And look how you repaid that favor.”
Guilt clutches at me once more. “You heard about that?”
“Yeah, the Lieutenant and I got pretty close during our cruise vacation. We shared old stories, had a few drinks, checked out some ladies. It was great.”
I sneer at Peter and then angle to the control panel. “I had no choice, and it’s not as if you were any help. You’d have left us all for dead.”
“I tried to get you out with me. You’re the one who had to go back and be a hero.” Peter shakes his head. “Whatever. In the end, you turned out like me anyway—forever looking out for yourself.”
“I’m not like you.”
He shrugs. “Suit yourself. I don’t get why you’re doing this, anyway. Why didn’t you go home? Back to Atlantis.”
“We tried, but Nerissa had already threatened my father after the escape. The best he could do was get us the Scylla and send us on our way.”
“And vigilantism was the next best option?” Peter chuckles, not giving me a chance to respond. “Now, what should we do with this clown?”
“He’s not a clown.” Memories of James’s lips touching mine flood over me. I can almost feel his arms wrapping around my waist, and tears sting at my eyes. I gulp back the feeling.
“Okay, but we can’t just form a little gang with him.”
I sigh. “Fine. I’m using him as a ransom. Nerissa has a new batch of kids, younger this time. The Sisters and I want them released.”
Peter scoffs. “No way is she going to agree to an exchange.”
“She might. Nerissa has one thing she craves more than the program, and that’s Commander Thacher. If she sells out his son, she’ll lose the love of her life. James will be safe, no one will blame him for this, and I’ll get what I want.”
“Then what? You think she’ll quit after that? Let the new kiddos go and then take up a life of philanthropy? Start a knitting club?”
“You think I’m stupid? During the exchange, I can use it as a chance to get to Nerissa.” I pause before letting myself voice the following words. “I’m going to kill her.”
Peter looks stunned. “You’re crazier than I thought.”
“I haven’t got everything worked out yet, but I will kill her. You’re right. Nerissa won’t stop until she ruins more lives, steals more children from their families, just like she did to me—and you.”
He stares at me for way too long. I know I’ve struck a nerve.
“It’s a long shot,” he says at length, “but when it comes down to it, I want her dead, too, if for nothing else but to be free. You get me to my Boys, and I’ll help.” Peter leans back against the pod interior in sudden, deep thought. “What if I pretended I was your prisoner, too? That you took both of us for ransom. The whole plan will play out better, and the Lieutenant won’t think you and I are in on this together. It’ll keep him less edgy, thinking he might be able to get an advantage. Then when the big moment—the trade-off—happens, I can be in close and do the job.”
I release a long sigh. It’s a tempting proposition that makes a lot of sense. On top of that, even though I hate Ner
issa, I’m not one hundred percent sure, if given the opportunity, I can actually kill her.
But Peter? Peter could.
Can I put my trust in him again?
I nod, leaning over to the emergency supplies to dig through the box. “Here. We need to ensure this kidnapping looks legitimate.” I hold up a zip tie. “Give me your hands.”
Chapter 4
Peter
Play nice, but not too nice. Gain his trust, she said.
I still want to dump Thacher—I mean, James—over, but she’s right. He has value, but his value to her is a bit different. All these silly gazes, as if he’s a sleeping prince, it’s pretty obvious. She feels something for him, but it’s not like back at Nerissa’s freak-making vessel. They’re not kids. They’re enemies now.
“Hey, Squirt,” I call out. “Let me take the lead on this. As soon as he starts to wake, you need to be gone.”
“Gone? What do you mean?” She looks to Thacher. “And stop calling me Squirt.”
I wince at her rejection. “Really, Arya?”
She glares at me.
“Fine. You go swim with the fishes, or whatever it is you do, Arya,” I explain. “I need time to work my magic.”
She scoffs at my comment, then glances at James, unconscious near the front of the craft. “I don’t know about this, Peter. How can I trust you alone with him?”
“Come on! You know me. I’ve always looked out for you. I need him to cooperate just as badly as you do.”
“Yeah. I do know you.” She folds her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at me for a moment. “Okay. Tell him I’m performing a sonar sweep of the area. Try not to be, well … you.”
Arya walks to the back of the pod and fidgets with a small digital display. With one tap on the controls, the awning on the pod is pulled back, revealing the crystal-blue sky above. The open air feels nice. That tiny cell I was in on the Syndicate vessel was getting depressing. She unzips her outer vest, preparing to enter the water. She's not that frail little sister anymore. Well, she’s still tiny, but she’s different now. Life has hardened her. When I left Arya behind, she was just a kid who looked up to me. Now, she thinks I’m a heartless jerk, but there's no time to fix that now.
NeverSea: Echoes of the Lost (Book One) Page 3