“Let’s go by the river!” I say, pointing upstream.
We’ll be faster than on foot. Some boats give chase, but not all.
Jude, wet and angry, slaps the man hiding at the bottom of the boat. “Get your shit together! Keep up, or I’ll kill you myself before they catch us,” he says, grabbing the disregarded army knife and pointing it at the man’s face.
Ruthless indeed.
“I would listen to him,” I advise.
Jude works on the chain with the knife while I sit close to the mousy-haired woman. She looks fearful but fierce.
“Do you think we can outrun them?” she asks.
“We can. And I have someone on land who’ll come to our rescue. We only have to last long enough for them to join us. What’s your name?”
She smiles shakily. “Andrea.”
“Nice to meet you Andrea, I’m—”
But I never get to tell her my name. A bullet takes her right through the head, and she falls. Blood splatters all over my hoodie. The mercenaries on the yacht have raised their weapons.
That’s why I never ask for their names, I think for a brief instant, frozen in time.They never survive long enough to matter.
I duck and grab the outboard motor. Andrea lies in a pool of blood at my feet. Jude slaps the man again. He has started screaming at the top of his lungs. Then he reaches us and surveys the dead woman.
“For fuck’s sake,” he says before working on chopping her foot off.
I grimace. We can’t carry her dead body with us. And it looks like the army knife isn’t enough to cut our chain, but it’s good enough to cut through human bone.
Jude is efficient and in a minute we’re free of the dead body. I whisper a “sorry” to Andrea before Jude throws her overboard. No time to mourn a stranger.
I aim for the shore while keeping my head down. I don’t know how much fuel we have and how long we can last, so we better be close enough to run if we need to.
The man at the end of our chain screams again. I can’t help it. I look behind us and see what has him in a fit. Gigantic, armored arms are dragging the yacht under.
The ruckus we made has attracted Scylla.
“I thought you said she was in the Gulf of California!” I scream over the noise.
“She was! Last month!” says Jude. “She comes and goes as she pleases!”
But for once, the impromptu god’s attack might work in our favor. Most of the motorboats are now ignoring us and escaping to shore. Only two follow us, refusing to change course.
I’ve only ever seen drawings of Scylla made by survivors. But now that I see her almost up close and personal, I realize that her resemblance to a hermit crab is far-fetched. She has the same kind of legs, sure, but otherwise her body is long, like one of a lobster. Her carapace is a dark blue color, and her underbelly is red. Beautiful and terrifying, like all the old gods that came out during the Rise. She attacks the yacht’s hull, expecting to find flesh in the floating creature. She will be disappointed.
Most slavers and mercenaries are swimming to shore. At least, those who aren’t dragged down with the debris and her giant body. The prisoners who are tied together aren’t counted as the lucky ones.
Scylla is too busy to come after us. I push the outboard motor to the max.
Fuel is rarer than food nowadays, and so we stop after half an hour. I shake the tank and realize with no surprise that it’s empty. We row the last few meters to shore. The other boats are not far behind. We need to find a place to hide.
Jude grabs the weeping man by the collar and urges him out of the boat. “Let’s go! If you slow us, I’ll kill you!”
He’s harsh, but I must admit that we have no choice. The man obeys and starts running alongside us. I try not to look at the bloody end of the chain where Andrea’s foot used to be.
It looks like the land around the river used to be farmlands. They are now overgrown by weeds and small trees, with nowhere to hide but the ruins of old houses. There is a wind farm on the horizon. Most wind turbines have been knocked down by an old god, but a few are still standing tall. They’re not turning anymore. Rust and time have gotten to them.
Gunshots ring out over our heads. We’re being chased.
