The Cavalry is Dead

Chapter 9: My Friends Stop Me From Drowning Myself

Romes ran to the edge of the boat.

Glistening tails slashed through the water. Burnt gold. Rusted red. Marigold orange. She thought of ants swarming a crumb, the way they climbed over and top of one another. She could just see a glimpse of Jax's dark hair sinking towards the sandy bottom.

There were too many of them, Romes thought, a pulse pounding in her throat. Too many to risk jumping in after him.

She swore, desperately scanning the ship. Fish? Would that be enough to distract the sirens? But, no; they preferred live prey. It would be like offering a wolf a slice of ham when it already had a squirming rabbit in its jaws.

Cannon? No. Too risky.

Knives? They didn't have enough. Besides, Romes thought, her aim was good, but not that good. She could nail Jax in the forehead.

Xander seized her arm. His dark eyes were wild.

"Wire," he mouthed.

Romes stared at him. Wire? What was she meant to do with that? Lasso the creatures? Xander's fingers dug into her arm. His mouth was moving, forming that same shape over and over again. Wire. Wire.

Oh. Not wire.

Fire.

Romes raced to a wooden crate, pulling out items at random. Maps. Binoculars. A horn-shaped item. Her breath rattled in her chest. Where was it? Where was—? Ah. There. She seized the matches triumphantly. Then, without further ado, she set the crate on fire and chucked it into the sea.

The sirens scattered.

The creatures shot through the water, diving behind coral and slithering into caves. Romes mounted the railing. Burning wreckage floated on the surface of the water; she had about thirty seconds, Romes thought, scanning the sea, until she became siren chow. Maybe less. She braced herself and leapt.

The warm sea filled her nostrils. Her lungs. Everything tasted of salt and iron. She'd never swum around Exerbury — too many monsters — but her mother had regularly taken her to the Silver Pools before she died. Her mother would toss bronze keys and shoes and pearl bracelets into the water, and Romes would dive for each object, returning with it clutched triumphantly in her fist.

She forced her eyes open.

Jax was suspended like a marionette doll, his dark hair fanning out around him. His face was pale. Eyes closed. He was bleeding from his right shoulder, but all his limbs were still attached to his body. A small victory, Romes thought.

She seized his collar.

Romes flipped on to her back, positioning Jax's head on her chest. Then she kicked. It was like swimming through molasses; Jax was slim, but he was heavy. Her legs burned with the effort of propelling them upwards. She couldn't hear anything. Couldn't see anything. The salt water stung her eyes.

Something grabbed her leg.

Romes lashed out viciously, kicking it away. A hand twisted in her hair. She seized her knife, slashing out at random. Her whole body was on fire. Her lungs ached for air, and she could hear a ringing in her ears. Black spots danced in front of her vision.

Her head broke the surface.

She swam blindly — desperately — for the ladder. Xander was already there, seizing Jax by the collar, half-dragging the other boy on to the ship. Claws scraped at her leg. Romes clung to the ladder, kicking out wildly. Something caught her ankle. She slashed her knife until it released her.

The ship jerked to life.

Romes hauled herself upward. The ship was picking up speed, careening towards the open sea. Cliffs flew by in a whirl of green vines. She dragged herself on to the deck, chest burning, coughing so hard that she felt her throat ache. Xander was kneeling over Jax, a frantic look on his face.