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  • The Great Ocean Escape


    Rhyse Falmarin

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    mmm….. sort of?

     

    Brow cocked.

     

    You either are or you aren’t.

     

    He wasn’t fazed, that was certain.  Good grief, he didn’t know how she’d survived this long with her soft voice and averting gaze.  Himself, sure he hid his dragonboat and didn’t go about broadcasting himself to the world.  When it came down to it though, if he was confronted he’d rather die than live crushed.

     

     I’m not a shifter, my body is just different than humans. If you change, you’re a shifter. All sorts, Outworlder just implies you’re not from this world.  The basic description still applies in my book.  Good to know though.  If you’re something that might sink this boat when you shift, warn me first.

     

    Especially if it was something that might sink his boat.  He didn’t like surprises.

     

    You know….the more you are bitter and angry with these waters…. the more strongly they will ignore your call.

     

    Eyes snapped to her briefly.

     

    You have no idea what I’m feeling.

     

    It was abrupt.  His explanation apparently not settling the subject.  He wasn’t used to his words being argued with or questioned.

     

    You are wrong. These waters are powerful and wild…but coy as well. They have not had those that could call it. Now that they do, they can be stubborn in answering when they don’t like the tone of askance. They don’t understand the way the ours did what it is to be in unison.

     

    Resisting the urge to pull his hand back, he watched her little trick, apparently expected like some savant to take over.  It never did anything, ever, except seem to spit back at him with some sort of contempt.  Humoring her, the markings on his arms could be seen to light up through the weave of his shirt.  He did truly try, at least just to humor her efforts.  Of course, it did nothing, settling so still it seemed to almost become clear as a marble.  Blink was slow and he looked back at her before picking up the binoculars again, as he did it thrummed like being peppered by rain, the same sound washing around the boat as if a downpour had suddenly started and stopped as quickly as it began.

     

    It always does that.

     

    Lesson was clearly over by the sound of his tone, and he left it where it lay, making his observations about the lighthouse.

     

    Siren?... tlhu'moH bIqDep?......a umm…. ….. um…. seduction witch…?

     

    He nodded, gearing up.

     

    Something still didn’t feel right.  The darkness of the water from before, like tendrils of shadows pulling at him.  Was it finally talking to him?  He knew better than to ignore his gut.  Instead of looking at the horizon, he studied the water.  Ripples.  Tide.  It didn’t look right for what the charts said.  Were his calculations wrong?  He was never wrong, but his gut said otherwise.  The surface was not moving like water at this depth should.

     

    Shit!

     

    The curse was dark.  Fist slammed on the ceiling above him and he started moving.

     

    Hold on to something.  Stay here!

     

    Engines suddenly gunned in reverse, despite the sudden surge, he deftly moved up the stairs.  Items that normally were secure rolled off and clinked on the floor at the severe shift.  He was in the pilothouse within seconds, depending on a massive machine of steel to stop a boat that he was pretty sure was going to hit something.

     

    *npc* Drop anchor?!

     

    No, if it’s not ground we’ll lose it.

     

    This was a clusterfuck.

     

    Same as fucking New York…  Ireland.  Fucking rogues sinking shit like landmines.  We’re in a debris field.

     

    The sound of the hull scraping something lightly made Avi’s eyes snap to him and widen.  They were almost to a stop, turning slightly to the side and drifting gently.  The water had warned him.  What the fuck?  Talk to him, but not do what he wanted…

     

    The boat undulated lazily, on no particular path as the captain leaned over the rail and scanned the water, already pulling off his clothes and shoes.  There was no hesitation.

     

    I’m going in to see if we can drop anchor.  We might have to wait until it’s light to maneuver out of here, but I don't thin we have that long. We’re right where someone wants us to be.  If something moves out there, shoot it.

     

    He left the lifeline off for now. Too much risk getting tangled.  As soon as he touched the water, he knew.  The sound was there… hum of something that wasn’t his boat.  A motor, far off.  Slow.  This was a big fucking spiderweb and they hadn't wiggled enough to catch its attention yet.

     

    He came back up, Avi trotting over.

     

    We have company. I’m not sure if it’s a lighter boat that can skim across the top of this shit and beeline to us or if they have deerpaths like we need to find, but I need you at the helm.  Turn the ship and I’m gonna lead us out of here back to open water.  If they catch up, at least we'll have the advantage of maneuvering.  I’m assuming St.John’s been compromised.  When I hit the water, I need you to follow, keep the bow centered on me.  Get the Irish girl up in the pilothouse with you, she has a good spotter eye.  Don’t run my ass over, I can swim fast, but not that fast.

     

    Would she agree to spot for them?  He wasn’t sure, but if she could watch their backs while his crew made sure they kept an eye on him and didn’t run him over- it would be helpful.  He monkey barred to the front of the ship, hooking his lifeline on the bow, dropping back into the water.

     

    Shit.  It was everywhere, shadows looming and the vibrations of decaying hulls throbbing in the water.  Listening to the ships engine’s start to turn and he started moving, the line snapping taught as paused for a moment under the surface and centered a moment before he surfaced again.

     

    If you can hear me, now would be a good time to finally start talking to me, he murmured and started moving.  They hadn’t gone in far, but enough to slow them down and get their asses sniped by skimmer boats looking for a take down.

     

    It could be a tense trip, but not by much more.

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    You either are or you aren’t.

     

    Head shook a bit… she didn’t know how to explain. It wasn’t exactly the same like this world. "Shifter implied control….she had none. She listened as he spoke of outworlders. She knew all too well what the world thought of them. She tried once more to speak of the waters and how his bitter anger pushed them away.

     

    Crimson eyes met his snapped gaze without a flinch. Inquisitive brow quirking at him as he tried to deny she was accurate about his feelings. When she beckoned him to pull at her own waters, lips parted a bit in surprise as the globe became nearly crystal clear, the water paralyzed for the briefest moment.

     

    It always does that.

     

    Her response was very quiet, a gentle curve to her lips as she watched the waters again begin to swirl.

     

    My waters do not stand still…

     

    Cock of her head studied him as he snatched his binoculars up once more. Gaze sliding down to study his decorated arm. He had done more than he knew to take credit for. So angry he didn’t feel the rushing waters grow still to listen to his call. He was not as impotent as he believed.

     

    Flick of her eyes to the portal windows came nearly simultaneously with his own feeling something was off.

     

    Shit!  Hold on to something.  Stay here!

     

    He didn’t understand, what she could do, how she could help.  She risked her safe passage, but this was close enough to new lands. She could swim for it then vanish once more. She owed him at least the safety of his ship.

     

    As he scampered up the stairs she caught a hand on the wall to avoid upending as the boat pitched violently, sending the maps and binoculars to the floor. She doubted the coat would keep her dry enough but it was buttoned up as she made the steps two at a time.

     

    Same as fucking New York…  Ireland.  Fucking rogues sinking shit like landmines.  We’re in a debris field.

     

    These lands were not as safe as he had thought. Seemed nowhere in the world was any longer. It meant the more people that knew her demon side…. the more she risked being hunted yet again. She was tired of being hunted…. but more… she was tired of running.

     

    As he vanished into the water, she made the rail, crimson orbs reading the undulations. The boat was going to need to be lifted over the chaos to avoid ripping the hull apart. Crimson flicked off to the distance as the water let her know they were not alone.

     

    Trap.

     

    She felt the undulations of the lapping waves, mist beginning to threaten moisture on her cheeks as she pulled ever so gently on the water, density dropping under the hum of the motor that was not theirs, the craft becoming endangered of hitting the same debris they were using to trap others.

     

    We have company. I’m not sure if it’s a lighter boat that can skim across the top of this shit and beeline to us or if they have deerpaths like we need to find, but I need you at the helm.  Turn the ship and I’m gonna lead us out of here back to open water.  If they catch up, at least we'll have the advantage of maneuvering.  I’m assuming St.John’s been compromised.  When I hit the water, I need you to follow, keep the bow centered on me.  Get the Irish girl up in the pilothouse with you, she has a good spotter eye.  Don’t run my ass over, I can swim fast, but not that fast.

     

    Turning she looked at him as he hitched the lifeline and dropped back into the water.  She would be far more useful in the water than in the house above. The haunting eyes met Avi who stared at her a moment before gesturing to the pilothouse. She could help some from there but……

     

    If you can hear me, now would be a good time to finally start talking to me.

     

    The soft words caught her attention as she leaned over the rail to look at him. It would.. if he kept asking in moments of need and without the anger. It would. She was sure of it. She could feel the stain on her neck, like the creep of a red rash it began to bleed upward, teasing under her ears as her features dampened in the misting air. Much more salt water and she would have no reason to hide further.

     

    She owed him the safety of his ship….

     

    Hand reached out over the rail to pull the depths below him, the water swelling gently under his torso to push both himself and the ship upward.

     

    Where is it we need to go….

     

    The words were incredibly soft and yet carried to him on the undulations of watery ripples. The "rash" flushed her left ear, soon she might as well be in the water with him but for now…. she awaited his reply.

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