by A. W. Cross
“I know.” Pine’s shoulders slumped. “But at least we’re doing something.” She wandered over to a closet tucked in the back and retrieved a strange-looking apparatus. After checking it over, she handed it to James. “Here. Put this around your neck. If something starts to go wrong, press it up to your face. It’ll filter oxygen out of the water for you.”
Skeptical, James held up the device and peered at it. “Really? It’s so…small.” James had been expecting some kind of suit and helmet. Something more substantial between him and…whatever was out there.
“Really. It’s not good for any long-term use, but if something happens, it’ll give you enough air for me to get you to safety. It’s mostly a last resort. If we get tossed around too much, we can always get into the life-pod.”
She’d lived in the ocean for much of her life, but still, how could she be so relaxed? They were going out into a storm in little more than a glorified canoe. James shook his head. When he’d gotten up that morning, he’d been filled with anticipation. Thank god I didn’t see this coming.
But she’d trusted him when he’d asked, though she’d had every reason not to. “Okay, I trust you.” James looped the device over his head and settled it snugly against his throat. The boat lurched to the left, and James clutched the sides of his chair. “So, you seem pretty comfortable in the harbormaster’s ship,” he said, trying to distract himself from the maelstrom in his stomach.
“I had to report to Paloma when I first got here. For whatever reason, she took a liking to me. Sometimes she would request that, instead of farming, I came back to the port and did my time with her.” Pine took the seat opposite James and spun it idly.
“You mean you were here for part of your sentence?” I can’t believe she was barely a few miles away. He’d imagined her on a far-off island, toiling away in misery.
“Yes. But I was under strict instructions to stay away from the shore. I mean, I was technically imprisoned.”
So this Paloma would turn a blind eye to Pine breaking harbor law, but not to a secret quick hello to the people who were virtually her family?
Tiny minnows of doubt darted around James’s heart. She’d seemed so glad to be home. to be with Joseph. To be with him. She’d nearly kissed him, hadn’t she? In that moment, he’d thought…it had seemed like the start of something. Could he have got it wrong?
Stop it. You’re just disconcerted by this damned ocean. Why would Pine risk her life for Joseph if she didn’t love him? He leaned back, trying to be satisfied with this proof. And he was. Almost. But the nagging voice wouldn’t stay silent.
She isn’t risking anything, though, is she? If the boat went down, she’d be fine. It would be James who’d—
The minnows bit.
She hadn’t even considered his safety until he’d mentioned it. Then she was perfectly happy to go on her own. He reached up to touch the device at his throat. It could be anything, something to suction barnacles off the side of the boat for all he knew. He glanced up at her.
Pine caught his eye and smiled. “Are you feeling a bit better?”
His misgivings eased. He was just being stupid. Pine was who he thought she was. “I guess synadroids don’t get seasick either.”
“No. But we didn’t spend much time on top of the water. We worked much closer to the bottom.”
“It was a huge relief for Foxwept when your kind was brought into the Ghostlight Rehabitation Project.” James stood and walked over to the cabin window on unsteady legs.
“Yes. We were so much more efficient because we didn’t need to rest for more than a few hours and didn’t need special equipment to breathe. I think we ended up saving them millions of dollars.”
“Not to mentioned thousands of lives.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, I just remember the news reports from before the synadroids joined the Project. They used to lose so many workers to accidents. Before they were replaced with synadroids, people were being crushed, swept out to the deep ocean, killed by the marine life. The deaths nearly stopped once the synadroids were employed.”
“The human deaths stopped, James.” Pine’s voice was soft even in the relative quiet of the cabin. “But those accidents still happened. More, even, because the people running the project didn’t have to take as much care when it wasn’t humans.”
Distracted, he missed the warning in her tone. “Well, yeah, but I mean, that was the point, right? Why synadroids were created in the first place?” James said it carelessly because it was the truth, not his opinion, but the moment he saw Pine’s face, he wished he could take it back. “Pine— I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
She bent over the dash and fiddled with the dials. “I know. It’s fine.”
But her brusqueness told James it was anything but fine. “I’m sorry.” How could he still be so thoughtless after everything she’d told him? He must be more affected by the water than he’d thought.
Just stop talking, James, and you’ll be fine.
She twisted around. “What you said was true. It just hurts—”
Something slammed into the side of the cruiser, sending shockwaves through the cabin. James and Pine staggered against each other, trying to find purchase on the heaving floor.
“Pine? What’s happen—” His stomach tried to claw its way up his throat.
“I don’t know! There’s nothing on the radar.” James hadn’t been afraid until he heard her panic, sharp and crystalline. Pine was scared. And if Pine was scared—
The boat turned inside out. James grabbed the gadget around his neck and crushed it to his face, inhaling deeply. Nothing. No. He tried again but tasted only the salt of the water as it engulfed him.
What happened next was a blur, even to Pine’s synadroid mind. The boat rose out of the water, hurtling upward into the darkness of the open sky. It rolled violently then plummeted downward with sickening force, breaking through the surface of the water with a bone-jarring smack.
Thick, dark seawater poured in through the smashed windows, filling the cabin. Pine could no longer tell which way was up, or if she was even still inside the boat.
James! Where was James? She groped about her in the dark, desperately wishing for a light.
Pine, stop. Calm down. You have a light. You are the light.
She stopped thrashing about, and instead tore at her clothes, stripping them off as quickly as she could. Naked, she spread her arms wide and tilted her head back.
Better.
Indigo light glowed from every inch of Pine’s skin, illuminating the shapes in the murk around her. Gradually, things came into focus—the pale hull of the boat, descending leisurely into the shadows, and another form, limp, sinking more slowly.
James.
She kicked toward him, catching him just as his feet entered the darker water. His face was pallid, his eyes closed. He hadn’t been able to get the breather on in time; it covered only half his mouth—useless.
James!
Anguish screamed inside her head. She shook him, checking for signs of life, but no bubbles escaped his nose or mouth, and his eyes stayed shut. She jammed the breather against his mouth and secured it. Then she pinched him, trying to startle him into taking a breath, but his lungs were stubborn.
No. This was all her fault. But she could still save him. She had to.
Thanks to her light, their path to the surface was clear. Hooking James under the arms, she kicked hard.
And went nowhere.
She let out a string of expletives she’d learned from Paloma. Pine hadn’t been designed to haul heavy things through the water—her model tended toward litheness and flexibility instead. If she was going to save him, she would have to do it with sheer will.
Focus.
She rearranged her grip on James, and as she pressed her arm over his chest, felt it—the faint beating of his heart; he was still alive.
James, alive. James, alive. She chanted the mantra louder and louder in
her head until it reached a crescendo that obliterated everything else.
James, alive. James, alive.
She redoubled her efforts, straining against the pull of the looming darkness below.
James, alive. James, alive.
They moved, slowly at first, then faster, as though they’d been released from quicksand. The higher they rose, the faster Pine was able to go, her synadroid legs working relentlessly. She said a silent prayer of thanks to Mara for her endurance.
James, alive. James, alive. James, alive. James, alive.
They were now only a hundred feet from the surface. James’s chest moved under arms. Giddiness almost threw off her rhythm. We’re going to make it. I can still save him.
A dark form brushed against them, scraping Pine’s skin with its own.
No. no.
The form circled back, and the light of her body revealed its mottled white and brown hide, the deep gouges marring its dorsal fin. Its nostrils flared as it scented James and exposed the jagged spikes of its notched teeth.
It’s fine. It’s just curious. It’s not like James is bleeding.
Except he was. Now that they were swimming in clear water, the lacerations on his arms and one bootless foot were obvious. If Pine could’ve breathed, she’d have taken a deep one.
Maybe it would leave them alone. If not, she knew what to do.
The shark circled them, wary of Pine’s radiant skin, yet attracted by the diffusing blood. Emboldened by Pine’s meekness, it bumped them gently with its snout.
Don’t react, just keep swimming. You’re almost at the surface.
Then James opened his eyes. He saw the massive shark and struggled, pushing back against Pine and kicking his legs—exactly what she hadn’t wanted him to do.
Pine squeezed him, trying to get his attention before the shark attacked.
She was too late.
It swam away, out of Pine’s glow, then circled back, picking up speed. She knew this species well. They weren’t common here, but one or two always seemed to be testing out new hunting grounds, hungry for novel prey. They attacked swiftly and repeatedly, wearing their victims down with successive bites.
You’re not going to get even single nibble here.
Pine let go of James and swam in front of him. His eyes widened when he saw her, naked and glowing, toe-to-toe with a colossal predator. If he hadn’t already regretted coming with her, he probably did now.
But there was no time to feel self-conscious. Pine couldn’t yet see the shark, but it was coming back, and when it did, it would hit them with the force of a speedboat—a speedboat with teeth.
Well, let it try.
Pine swam as far away from James as she dared while keeping herself between him and the deadly creature. She held her arms out in front of her, her palms raised toward the oncoming attack. The shark burst into the circle of her light, and Pine counted in her head. The timing had to be just right.
Three. Two. One—
An inky substance leaked from Pine’s palms, wreathing her in a black fog. The shark roared toward her, its jaws wide.
Steady.
What if it didn’t work? After all, she’d never used it before. It was a one-shot chance, a last act of desperation.
No, it’ll work. It has to. It—
The shark passed into the dark cloud surrounding Pine, and she closed her eyes, bracing for the impact.
It never came.
Pine opened her eyes. The shark floated before her, belly up, murderous rage in its glittering black eyes. But for the moment, it was at her mercy.
She knew just how it felt.
Pine turned and swam back toward James. They had some time, but the nerve gas wouldn’t last forever. They had to get up to the surface, now. James stared at her as she engulfed him in her radiance. He seemed stunned. Had he struck his head when the boat went down? If he had, she couldn’t worry about it now.
She pointed upward. At first, he seemed confused, but then he nodded and swam, propelling himself toward the surface. She followed beneath him, keeping watch on the shark as it sank slowly out of sight.
The closer they got to the surface, the more turbulent the water became.
The storm must still be raging. Damn. Pine didn’t know what they were going to do when they got to the surface. She had no idea where they were—
Cold slapped her face as they broke through into the air at last. Though heavy rain stippled the waves, the clouds had opened enough in places for the moon to shine its light on the water. At the top of a swell, Pine cast around her, looking for some sign of land.
There. It was little more than a shadow, but it beckoned to her like a beacon. If they could reach it, they could find somewhere to ride out the storm.
“James! There. I think there’s land—” Her words were drowned out as the downpour picked up again.
James swam toward her, reaching her as another larger swell lifted them.
As they clutched each other, Pine put her mouth as close to his ear as possible. “James, I think—”
This time, her words were torn from her by a behemoth of a wave, a wave that was wholly unnatural.
It curled around them and the world ceased to exist.
James had been hit by a train. Or at least, that was what it felt like. Every single inch of his body shrieked in agony as he rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes.
Where the hell am I? What happened?
The sun shone down on him, warming his skin; the storm was over. The ground under his bare arms was damp and gritty, and laced with something cold and oddly fleshy. Creeped out, James tried to sit up, but he was barely able to lift his head off the ground and even that small movement caused the world to spin.
The boat. The boat had sunk. He’d been drowning and then…darkness. Then Pine must’ve fixed his mask and…
Pine.
She’d been naked and glowing with an ethereal purple-blue radiance. Even her eyes were alight, blazing golden in the dark. It was strangely beautiful and utterly alarming.
And there’d been a shark. It had attacked them. She’d done something to it, paralyzed it.
James shuddered as he remembered the strange black haze seeping from her palms. Whatever it was, it had knocked out the biggest shark he’d ever seen.
And then they were swimming toward the surface, and…and now he was here.
But where was Pine?
James gritted his teeth and pushed himself onto his elbows, his back screaming in agony. Even turning his head was torture. He lay on a yellow-sanded beach, the fleshy mass under him a dark green, podded seaweed. He craned his neck, searching for any sign of her. Behind him, a few hundred feet up the beach, was a densely packed tree line. The sand stretched for a mile on either side of James, but he could see the curve of the shoreline even from where he was.
An island. He was on an island.
Great. There were only about six hundred off the coast of Foxwept.
Where the hell was Pine? She wouldn’t have left him, would she? He didn’t think so, but—
A figure rose from the now-calm water of the ocean, and Pine emerged.
Naked.
So that had been real. He swallowed, hard.
His eyes were drawn to the delicate slope of her shoulders then down to her small, perfectly rounded breasts, down over the gentle curve of her waist and hip, the smooth strength of her abdomen…
She was no longer glowing. Had James only imagined that part? Maybe he had hit his head—it was pounding, and there was a tender spot just behind his ear.
She sloshed toward him, the water churning around her and ropes of seaweed hanging from her hands. Once on land, she placed the tangled vegetation carefully on the ground and knelt next to him.
Pulse racing, he forced his gaze down to the sand.
“James? Are you okay?” Her tone was concerned, but there was something else. A reservation that echoed her first weeks in Portfade.
“No. But I will be.�
� He groaned and forced himself to sit up. “You?”
“I’m fine.” She sat back on her heels.
“Uh, Pine? You’re…naked. And normally I wouldn’t complain—” Normally, he most certainly would not complain. “But there might be other people on this island.”
She pressed her lips together, but not before he caught her smile. “Really? This beach seems pretty empty.”
“But—” He gave up as she snorted. “Fine. It’s distracting. Very distracting. And painful.” How could he be in such agony and still be aroused? “Please. Take my shirt.”
He began to peel off the still-damp piece of clothing. Halfway off, it got stuck. Pine snickered as he twisted around, trying to free his head. “A little help?”
As she pulled the rest of the shirt free, the warm air caressed James and eased some of the tension in his shoulders. “Oh wow. That actually feels better.”
“Looks better too,” Pine said, giving him a mischievous grin. Her gaze lingered on him, wandering over his bare skin and warming him more than the sun.
Maybe they would get lucky, and this island would uninhabited after all. Seriously, James?
Pine stretched the damp shirt over her head and tugged down the hem. “How’s this?”
It wasn’t demure by a long shot, but at least it covered all the basics. Except where the damp fabric clung to her, of course. Damn it, Pine. But it would have to do. He tore his gaze away from her and looked out to sea. “What the hell happened?”
“We capsized then we were attacked—”
“No, I remember all that. I mean, what happened with you? Did I— I mean, was what I saw real? Were you…glowing?”
Pine scrunched up her nose. “Yes. That’s why I took my clothes off.” She gestured to her bare legs. “Once we got recommissioned to aquaculture, they imbued our skin with a bioluminescence. It made us easier to keep track of while we were working in the deeper water.”
Okay, that James could accept. It made sense. But the other stuff? The dark substance that had come from her hands? “What did you do to that shark?”
“It’s a nerve toxin. It didn’t kill it, just paralyzed it for a time.” She began peeling the outer skin off the seaweed.