PoraBora

Chapter Thirty

There it was, thought Pora. Pe's island, just in sight in the distance, with its two villages and its giant, speckled ship. But the fleet he rode cut their motors. Weren't they going to dock? Weren't they going to go closer? Or did they have another boy in a cage and were waiting for chum to attract more hungry mouths?

Pora thought he should just swim for it, but away from the ships he would be spotted, even if he could hold his breath long enough not to surface. He knew he couldn't. He let himself into the water, where he could better judge the distance against his ability to swim.

It was a long way. He checked the water when he thought again of the cage, just in case he could spot sharks on their way, but the seas only continued their blue infinite. He knew firsthand how quickly that could change.

Pora climbed back up.

And then, as the sun reached for the horizon, the ships began to move.

He would sneak off when they came close. If Maye was truly on the island, and Pora didn't doubt it after seeing all of the jungle fowl, then he had to find him. To make sure others didn't.

Pora looked up to see Tota take wing. He would find a beach, and maybe people would leave him alone. Pora would join him as soon as he could--

Boom.

Pora nearly fell off the ship as he covered his ears. It wasn't only one eruption. Cannons fired across all the largest ships, those shaped like sharks and colored to hide in the water, not on. Pora watched aghast as wooden boats in the harbor blew up in splinters and flying men.

He didn't know why, he didn't know who, but he knew what was happening.

It was war.

And the island fired back.

Shots pounded the ships as shouts rose up all around him. Pora hung frozen. It wasn't safe here. Cannons were aimed at the ships. The most important targets. Or they would aim at the boats, wooden and easily destroyed.

They wouldn't aim for him in the water, but there was no cover there.

Boom.

He wouldn't need it. Pora dropped, dove, and disappeared.

They'd already made it to the reefs. Fish swam low, and lower with every crash from above. Many hid deeper in the reefs. Schools swam for open waters. Chunks of ships crashed into the sea, slamming into the coral. Breaking it. Always breaking it! Pora kicked furiously towards the island. They had to stop. Both sides, somehow, and there was no way he could make them. Not for the island, not for the reef.

Pora came up for air, and already ships were all around him, boats rushing with thundering wells, spears up as cannon fire soared overhead.

They were putting him in danger. Pora kicked back down, ten feet, more, as shots pulped into the water that missed their targets.

A man dropped into the water, drifting down, and, gradually, back up.

He'll see me. He wasn't moving. He was bleeding, but bubbles still came from his nose. He'll die. Pora kicked towards him, then stopped. What did he do? The man would only damage the reef again....

Pora growled and sprinted the last feet to him. He slipped his arm under his shoulder. The buoyant water would help them to the surface, where he could...could do something, he would figure it out in a minute, and maybe he wouldn't have to, maybe once the man had air he would be able to swim himself to shore, or back to his boat, if his boat wasn't in pieces. It probably was.