Raging Sea (32 page)

And our luck runs out. One of the Rusalka turns to find out what drove them to shore and realizes we are in the water behind him. He lunges forward and digs his claws into Jonas’s leg. The boy cries out and falls backwards into the water. Losing his connection causes the rest of us to lurch with pain.

Another Rusalka leaps to slice me open, but I kick it in the face and it tumbles back. Five more follow. Riley manages to punch one before it can hurt him, and Emma turns her glove on the creature, crushing it between two spouts of water. Unfortunately her diversion weakens our hold even further. The energy needed to hold back the wave feels like it is ripping me apart, and I know if it’s this bad for me, it’s hurting the others even more. This is how it felt that day on the beach when I failed everyone. I fought and fought, but it was pointless. Everything was destroyed anyway.

Everything.

“Let go!” I shout to the team.

“We can’t!” Harrison cries.

“Let it go. Turn your attention on our people. Get them out of the water before they are swept away.”

I call names out to the sea, asking it to keep everyone safe. When I say Arcade’s name, a wave shoots her into the sky. I see it happening to everyone on the beach. Kita, Jackson, all the soldiers and children. They are all hurtled skyward when we let the water go.

Riley and I shoot into the sky as well, just as the monstrous wave stampedes beneath our feet. It crushes everything that dares stand in its way, even the Rusalka who created it. It swallows them up and chews them apart, and I feel my connection to their gloves snuffed out.

The wave rolls up the beach, smashing into Childs Restaurant, knocking it off its foundation. It continues onward, bulldozing everything in its path. The destruction from this wave will wipe out neighborhoods that survived the first. I hope the die-hards who would not leave have a chance to escape. My mind searches the water for my parents and Bex and Chloe, but they aren’t out there. I hope Jackson fulfilled his promise. I hope they’re on their way to safety.

When the ocean has had its way with the land, when it is just a simmering boil of hostility, I nudge it back to where it belongs. The other children help me until we can see the beach once more. There is nothing left, no debris, no weapons, no evidence that this place was once a neighborhood.

We ease everyone back to the ground and gather in the wet sand. Arcade waits for me. She points at a jagged cut on my thigh. A Rusalka must have slashed me and I didn’t notice. I’m so full of adrenaline right now, I can’t even feel it.

The children cry at their losses. There were thirty-three of us when we arrived. We lost nine in the fight. I stretch out and find their bodies. There is no life in any of them. We lost Breanne, Jonas, Emma, Tess, Leo, Georgia, Pierre, Tucker, and Danny.

“Look!” Finn shouts.

There’s a splash, and then something lands at our feet. I almost fall backwards in fear. Another Rusalka has arrived. Its yellow eyes study us for a moment, and its forked tongue licks the air. It barks and howls at us in its ugly language, but I can’t begin to understand what it wants.

“He is not here!” Arcade shouts at it.

The Rusalka stomps its feet and growls angrily.

“Then he is a coward. I demand he retreat. His invasion has failed,” Arcade shouts.

The creature lets out a defiant huff and springs back into the water, disappearing from view.

“He is coming,” Arcade says.

“Who?” Cole asks.

“The prime. I will fight in Fathom’s place,” Arcade says, then stares at me with serious eyes. “I will not allow interference.”

“This is my fight too!” I shout.

I see the tips of tridents and swords rising out of the surf. All along the shore as far as I can see, they come, hundreds of Rusalka marching in our direction. Unlike the others, they wear the same armor that the other Alpha have been known to wear. It’s made of shells and bones and claws. In their midst is the prime and his pregnant wife, Minerva. They each bear smiles a million times more terrifying than their monster army. Once they are in position, they all stop and stand tall before us.

“Where is the traitor?” the prime says, his eyes gleaming with hate.

“Ever the coward,” Minerva hisses.

“No mind. He will learn the new way of things when we root him out,” the prime says. “As for the rest, you may kneel and beg for a quick death.”

“That is merciful,” Minerva says with all sincerity.

“You are no prime,” Arcade cries. “The Alpha Nation is dead and scattered, all thanks to you. You are the leader of memories, not First Men.”

“I think this child has lost her ability to see,” Minerva says. “Isn’t the empire standing before you? Only a small portion of it, of course, but it grows with each passing day. The Alpha live on.”

Arcade looks up and down the beach at the beasts.

“What did you have to say to get them to bend their knees to you?”

“I simply offered them what they have been asking for all along—a place in my kingdom, a voice in my ear,” the prime answers. “I gave them the freedoms that my former advisers refused to allow, and apologized for the disrespect. I appointed several of them to be advisers and then welcomed the rest into my royal guard. Don’t they look fierce in their armor? They will play an integral part in our glorious future.”

“Imagine the lives you could have saved if you had just given them a hug earlier,” I say.

“I see the mutant has survived,” the prime snarls, then turns back to Arcade. “Throwing your lot in with the human filth too, Arcade?”

“Kill her, lover!” Minerva shrieks. She’s so angry, her body shakes. “Kill them both!”

The prime’s blades spring from his forearms with a deadly
shhhkkkt.

“Yes, I think that would be fun,” he says, then crouches as if he’s preparing to lunge at me.

The air fills with a pounding rhythm. It begins with a low, plucking tone but grows louder until the air around my head is shaking with a thrum.

Behind the wall of Rusalka, I see a second set of weapons rise. Along the beach for a mile in both directions come the Alpha—Nix, Sirena, Ceto, Triton, and Selkie. At the center is Fathom, dressed in his own armor. Next to him is a boy roughly his own age with long brown hair and an older man with a shaved head and a pointy goatee. I’ve seen them before. They are Flyer and Braken.

The Rusalka part for them, and Fathom walks toward the beach. He looks to me and then Arcade, and nods respectfully.

“You have done well,” he says.

“Glad you could make it before the party is over,” I say.

“Father, I come to you with an offer of peace,” he says to the prime. “Return to the hunting grounds. Rebuild the empire in whatever form you choose. I will not try to stop you as long as you leave the surface world alone.”

“Is that your offer, little minnow?” Minerva mocks. “Shall we retreat now?”

“It is not retreat, Minerva. It is a fair offer to my father!” Fathom shouts at her.

“Yes, I am your father!” the prime rages. “And you should be proud of me, boy. I have taken our people back to a more glorious time, when we took what we wanted—food, weapons, slaves, and territories. The surface world is no different. It is ours for the taking.”

“You are insane!” Arcade shouts.

“The only madness here is the way we live,” the prime cries. “I am setting things back to the way they were always meant to be.”

“And look at the price!” Fathom shouts. “Look at the death!”

“And from it, birth,” Minerva says, rubbing her pregnant tummy. “I will raise the heir in the old traditions. He will bathe in blood and treasure. The surface is his dowry.”

“Father, hear me. Consider peace,” Fathom says.

“I desire war.”

“Is that your final word?” Fathom asks, releasing his Kala.

“It is, pup. Do you wish to challenge it?”

“I must.” Fathom lunges at his father, roaring with war. The prime blocks his attack and sends his son tumbling to the ground. He leaps to strike as well, but Fathom rolls out of the way and springs to his feet right off his back. Father and son trade blows that would kill an ordinary person.

“You have taken our great people and turned them into scavengers, and now you have thrown in with the very beasts that killed so many of us. You are the king of the dead,” Fathom says.

“King nonetheless,” his father roars as he lands a savage hand to his son’s face. Fathom’s cheek opens, and blood pours down his neck.

“This was how it was always going to end, traitor!” Minerva screeches. “The old heir must be removed to make room for the new one.”

The prime leaps onto his son, pressing his forearm against Fathom’s face. If he releases his blades, they will slice off his son’s head.

“It’s over, son!” he shouts. “I have beaten you. I’m sorry to see you go. I would have liked to watch your face when the humans surrender.”

There’s a
shkkkkkt!

I scream.

The prime chuckles, and blood leaks out of his mouth.

“Finally, son, you understand what you are. You are Alpha. Take what you want. It is yours.”

He closes his eyes, and Fathom forces the body off of him. He pulls his own blade out of his father’s throat.

“I will earn what is mine,” he says.

Minerva backs into the water one step at a time. I expect her to say something insane, but she doesn’t. Instead, she sinks beneath the waves and is gone. The Rusalka follow, and soon their weapons disappear as well. The Alpha part and allow them to retreat; then they step out of the water to gather on the shore. There are thousands of them.

“I was told there would be a battle here, Fathom,” Flyer says.

“It appears the raging sea got here before we could,” Fathom explains, flashing me a smile.

Ghost joins us. He’s a happy sight, despite his grotesque appearance.

“It is good to see you, blob fish,” Ghost calls out to me. “I hear you have become quite average with your glove.”

I bristle at his insult, then remember he was the one who convinced the others that I could save everyone. I almost bust him but let him have his pride.

“Is it over, nephew?” Braken asks Fathom.

“Hopefully Minerva will take her foul brood to some dark corner of the ocean,” Fathom says. He kneels before his father, and I see that, despite the madness, Fathom still loved him.

“Flyer?” Arcade says. She steps to him tentatively.

He smiles as wide as the sky, then sees her hand. He gives it a serious look.

“Did you do this to impress me?” he jokes.

She smiles. I didn’t think she could. I didn’t think her face made that shape.

“We have much to discuss,” she says to him.

He cocks an eyebrow. “We do?”

“We do.”

Suddenly the ocean grows still. There is no tide, no waves—just eerie silence.

“Talking will have to wait,” Ghost says, pointing out to the water.

It’s then that it begins to churn and bubble. There’s an explosion, and something crashes onto the shore at our feet. It’s as big as a dog and made up entirely of tentacles. It charges right at me, using all of its hyperactive legs to drag itself forward.

“Undine!” Fathom shouts.

“Run!” I shout to the team, and everyone races inland.

The air fills with the shrill cries of the Undine. I don’t know which scares me more, the sound they make or how many I think there are behind us. I take a peek back and hate myself for it. I didn’t need to see the entire beach blanketed in sticky tentacles.

“We can’t outrun them!” Arcade shouts. “We have to fight.”

“Minerva has set them upon us. They will kill everything they touch!” Flyer shouts as he grabs Arcade by her good hand and pulls her onward.

The creatures spring into our numbers, attempting to cling to heads. One lands on the back of an older Triton, and I hear the sickening sound of its spike plunging into flesh. The Triton lets out a horrible cry and falls to the ground. I want to stop and help, but Riley snatches my arm and keeps me running.

In the distance, I spot the wrecked bus we walked through to get here. Soldiers are running through it in our direction. I shout and wave at them, hoping they’ll see what’s happening and run for their lives.

“They’re coming!” I shout to the soldiers. “Turn back!”

“Kid, you’re about two months late for that announcement!” one of them shouts back.

“Not the Rusalka,” I cry. “Something worse!”

One of the soldiers hoists his rocket launcher to his shoulder, aims, and fires. I watch the rocket’s wobbly path as it slams into the endless sea of tentacles. Fire and smoke rise from the charred carcasses, and bodies fly. The other soldier shouts at his radio for more troops when an Undine crashes into him. It’s then that I see the horrible spike they hide. It’s red and coarse, like coral, and it jabs into the back of the soldier’s skull. He screams, but the pain isn’t the worst thing that happens to him. Within seconds, the spike is sucking out everything inside him—blood and bone—until he’s nothing more than a bag of skin discarded onto the sand. The monster rolls onto the ground like it’s stuffed from a Thanksgiving dinner.

I hear a pop, and watch a black streak of smoke fly across the sky. Whatever the soldiers fired lands on the ground not far from us and explodes with a massive boom. I can feel the shock wave. The effect is devastating and grotesque. One rocket blasted a whole twenty yards in diameter, turning the octopus creatures into glop. I cheer when two more streak above, shaking the air as they go.

“The human weapons will not stop them,” Braken barks at us. “Distance is the only thing that will save us.”

My team makes its way around a semi truck just as four jets roar overhead. Each one drops a bomb, and a moment later it feels like I’m in the middle of an earthquake. My eardrums ring, and I’m thrown to the ground. Fathom falls as well. One horrible explosion follows another, shaking my bones. While the world is being ripped in two, I watch hundreds of soldiers racing past us, guns ready and aimed at the shoreline. They storm the beach and fire, their bullets tearing into the octopus creatures one by one.

Riley gets me to my feet, only for us to hear a horrible scream. I turn and look, spotting a soldier flailing about, trying to remove an Undine that has locked onto his head. It ends in the same nightmarish way as the last.