47. Aspyn
Chapter forty-seven
Aspyn
A spyn Aged 22
I scrub off the graffiti on my stall. It’s just a small thing, but last night was cold, and the pain really bothered my leg.
I spent most of the night awake, tossing and turning and trying to get comfortable.
It doesn’t matter.
But coming down to make some money and find my stall trashed hurts. Hurts me financially, but more, it’s like another blow to my soul.
It always hurts, but today it’s got a bitter edge.
I sit down on my ass in the gutter and put my head in my hands. I can’t stop the tears, though.
I miss them.
I miss them so much.
P resent Day
Crying over graffiti seems like such a waste right now, faced with the tumultuous ocean and the threat from Typhor. The memory of that feeling of complete and utter defeat presses on me now, urging me to succumb to it. Instead, my fingers brush Gael’s as I edge my feet into the surf.
“WAIT!”
I whip around, my heart in my throat.
Nat’s running towards us, her gait uneven, her face alive with terror. She’s bloody and bruised, but she’s alive.
I don’t hesitate; I turn and rush back towards her. Gael and Mitch shout, but I don’t listen. Of course, I don’t listen. It’s Nat.
It feels like it takes forever, but then she falls into my arms. I can see the pursuit now. Typhor is so close I can see the fierce brown of his eyes. I reverse direction at once, dragging her with me towards the boat. She looks heaps worse, and she’s barely conscious.
I don’t bother wasting time, I just lift her weight and limp towards the boat. My muscles strain and ache, but I push through the pain. Mitch is holding the boat as best he can while Gael rushes towards us.
He reaches us, and I practically throw Nat at him. Gael’s eyes show his torment, his anguish.
“Go! Go!”
He lifts her unconscious body and runs towards the boat. But now that I don’t have her weight, I’m aware of the tight muscles and the pain. I know I’m in trouble, but I don’t open my mouth, I don’t say a word.
I take three more steps, and my ankle rolls, sending me careening into the sand. I lay there stunned for a second and then scramble up.
My hair is yanked half out of my scalp. I let out a piercing scream. Another heavy hand lands on my neck, then I’m yanked up by my hair.
“You fucking whore. You ruined everything. Fuck!” His roar of psychotic rages sends spit all over my face. “You aren’t even a proper omega.”
I whirl, ignoring the pain, and rake my fingernails down his face. Typhor shouts and recoils. I see blood, but I don’t get even a second to gloat.
His fist slams into my face.
“Filthy fucking omega whore.”
“Let me go!” I purr, remembering the trick Locke taught me. It’s not going to work, but I hope it does.
To my surprise, his grip loosens. I attack again, ignoring the way he’s yanking on my hair. For once, my high pain tolerance has paid off. I slam my hand into his face, but, with the other, I yank up my cane, flick the switch no one knows about, and stab down.
Thank you, Keagan!
He howls and throws me away. The blade that impales his foot comes loose.
“Fucking bitch!”
“My pack are alive!” I shout at him in pure defiance.
I just manage to keep hold of the cane and catch myself awkwardly. He continues to howl, but I’m already moving as fast as I can move my broken body.
Gael races past me and slams himself into Typhor. I can hear his goons racing in.
“Gael!” I call.
I hear the sound of a punch colliding, and then Gael grunts. I whip around, my cane keeping me upright. Gael has a handle of a knife in his thigh. He reaches down and yanks it out.
“NO!”
Gael pushes Typhor away and staggers towards me.
I throw myself at him, but he swings me up, moving faster than I ever could have. He tosses me in the boat, and I get the strangest sensation of floating before Mitch and Gael run on either side of the dingy, driving us right out into the surf. Mitch jumps up, easily hopping in the dingy, and then Gael does the same.
I don’t know who gets the motor going. I’m too busy gripping the side of the boat for dear life as I watch the huge green waves rush towards us.
“GO!” Mitch shouts.
I tear my eyes away from the water and look behind. Typhors’ thugs for hire are closing in, but Typhor is pursuing us into the water. I let out a wild, frightened scream that the wind snatches up. The engine catches, and we take off suddenly.
The boat bounces in the water, sea spray hitting my face like hail. I’m freezing but terrified. I glance back and see Gael easily handling the motor, directing us out into the ocean. In seconds, we’re in the deep. The beaches here look nice, but the shelf drops off alarmingly, leaving us in dark, depthless waters. I try really hard not to think about that.
I hold on to the rope on the side of the dingy and try to focus on breathing. The waves get bigger. The boat bounces into each trough. I cry out, wishing I was anywhere else, but I don’t let go. I hang on.
“ASPYN!”
I turn to Gael. His eyes are wide and terrified. I’ve never seen him look like that.
I follow his stare back ahead of us, my eyes widen in horror. It’s the wave from my dreams. The monstrosity stretches up, the water so dark it appears black, it blocks out the light. It blocks out the world.
I scream.
“Hold on!” Gael shouts. He lets out a grunt, and I wrench my head around, seeing him slump forward and sideways. The front of the boat rises with the wave, but Gael slips into the water, vanishing before my eyes. In his place, holding onto the rope on the side, is Typhor. He drops the rock into the boat and smiles with insane glee.
This time, my scream is more anguished. I attempt to stand up, but my leg won’t support my weight.
“ASPYN!” Mitch screams in terror. No one is at the motor, no one is controlling the boat. We’re helpless. Typhor swings his leg over, pulling himself in.
The boat goes up and up, the wave crests, and we reach the point of no return. The boat hangs in the air for a second that feels like it lasts forever and then falls back, dumping us into the ocean.