REND

“It’s gone…”

“What’s gone?” Deen pressed her cheek against mine so she’d look in the same direction as me. “I can’t see anything. What did you see?”

“I don’t know what it was, but something was there,” I said, pulling away from our contact. “I guess it’s not very helpful just saying ‘there’. But I’m sure I saw points of light on a big… thing. It dove back into the water. I won’t chuck it off as an optical illusion or light trick reflection whatever because we heard that whale singing thing.”

“Maybe a whale was curious about the two of us,” said Deen, “and thought we needed help. I’ve heard of dolphins helping divers. The whale’s body could’ve caught light from the ship and made you think it was odd.”

“That’s plausible.” I pictured a random kid shining laser pointers into the ocean, tricking me into seeing weird stuff that was just supposed to be a helpful whale.

“Are whales safe?” Deen asked. “Like, do they eat people? I’m worried the whale, if it’s truly a whale, would suddenly nab us from the depths while we’re swimming after the transport boats.”

“They don’t—Watch out! Incoming wave!”

It was stronger than the previous ones, managing to undo Deen’s invincible hair bun. That was the last thing I saw before closing my eyes because the current was so strong. I adjusted my position to squeeze my bag beneath me.

While submerged, Deen pulled on my arm and stuck to my side. The jagged edges of the holes in the metal dug into my palms and feet, threatening to wound me as I struggled to hang on. The water almost succeeded in peeling me off the ship if Deen didn’t lead me to another spot to anchor myself. I moved with only one arm, relying on my feet to keep me stable because I needed to secure my precious bag with my free hand which wasn’t so free anymore. I could feel the fabric of the bag I gripped starting to tear.

Seconds continued ticking by, and we were still underwater. How long was this going to take? I wasn’t able to prepare with a deep breath and my lungs were complaining.

A worm of worry gnawed at me. What if this wasn’t another wave? What if the part we were on got lowered below the waterline? Should we let go and surface? But we’d be swept away if we didn’t hold on. Maybe we should climb up the front of the ship while we were still conscious.

The only thing that could stop an Adumbrae’s regeneration—which meant dying for good—was destroying the brain. Or the spine. Okay, that was two things. No oxygen to the brain equaled death. No regeneration to repair that damage.

Deen wasn’t moving though. Should be safe. She lightly squeezed the arm of mine she was hugging. I took that to mean she was assuring me that our oxygen-lacking bath would soon be over.

Sure enough, we could breathe again.

I shook my head like a wet dog, trying to get hair off my face, as I changed into a sitting position. Pushing my legs deeper into the bow to stabilize myself, metal bars gave way like clay to my feet. I had to check my bag, and quickly before the next wave came.

“Oops, I punctured it.” I showed Deen the holes.

“We can dry your clothes later. The other stuff too.” Deen fixed her hair, combing it back with a hand. I should’ve done it her way. “The flashlight I bought works underwater,” she added, “so it should be fine.”  

“I have an important packet here I need to keep safe,” I said, handing her Big Marcy’s lovingly made gift.

“What is this?”

“I’ll tell you later. Long explanation. Speaking of explanations—whales don’t eat people.”

Deen chuckled as she stowed the important documents in her bag. “You’re just going to continue that like nothing happened?”

“I don’t want you to have the wrong idea about the gentle whales. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say whales can’t eat people even if they want to. Physically impossible. Even the blue whales, which are larger than the largest dinosaurs, have teeny tiny throats. I don’t think they could swallow even a melon.”

“You’re talkative when it comes to animals. This side of you is adorable.”

“I’m not adorable,” I griped under my breath.

“Isn’t there a bible story of a guy getting eaten by a whale? Name’s Jonah, isn’t it?”

“We don’t know how true that is.” Jonah’s tale was among the bedtime stories Mom told me as a kid. Odd story, if you ask me. But it did have a moral lesson—obey God. Which should be a given if there was an all-powerful deity. Like, duh. “It mentioned a big fish or something. Not a whale.”

“I have an animal trivia bit for you!” Deen excitedly said. “If a whale isn’t classified as a fish, then what is it?”

“Too easy. Whales are mammals.” I was enjoying our little chat, surprisingly. Talking about a topic that interested me was fun. Who knew? Was this what hanging out with a friend was supposed to be? We were holding onto a ship as waves tried to drown us, but this counted as hanging out. Quite literally.

Deen clicked her tongue. “I didn’t really expect to get you with that one, whale girl.”

“My turn! Not like we have anything better to do, so let’s continue this question game. If whales are mammals, they should have mammary glands, right? So… where are their boobs?”

Whales didn’t have the usual boobs people would picture, like those the ‘usual’ mammals had. Instead of sacs with nipples, whales have slits that gush out milk into the water. Their calves had to nuzzle into those slits. No way Deen knew this one.

And she wasn’t answering.

“Uh, Deen? Come on, guess where a whale’s boobs are located.” I narrowed my eyes. “Are you hearing weird sounds again?”

She shook her head. “Gabe’s giving instructions.” Then she started moving to the side, yanking at me to follow.

“What’s happening?” I went along with Deen, doing a crablike walk across the bow’s surface, punching more holes into it. The wares were unceasing. I clipped my bag to my body with an arm. I shelved my whale-boob question for now. When we’d have downtime, I’d ask Deen again. It was an awesome question and a winning point for me.

“Gabe said to get out of the middle area.” Deen lowered her body into the water as the edge of the bow sloped down. “This structure might be opening soon,” she explained before going down some more. Only her head and arms clinging on to the bow remained above water. Somewhat. The motion of the water and the ship meant she kept going underwater.

“Oh, you’re right.” The metal trembled and groaned. Loud mechanical noises, clicking gears, whirring engines. I quickly took my place beside Deen, not forgetting to take huge gulps of air whenever I could. “Is the ship slowing down? It feels like it is.”

“Hold tight,” said Deen. “Breathe deep.”

“I am holding—woah!” Water rushed to the front of the ship, pulling us to the right.

It’s opening! At fucking last.

Problem was that the strength of the water flowing to fill the new opening was stronger than the waves we had endured. A giant washing machine described our situation. Deen and I were like flags attached to a pole during a windy day, pulled this way and that by the current. A couple of times I slammed against the side of the bow. The metal probably has an imprint of my face.

Then I got pushed flat against the ship by the force of the water. The wind got knocked out of my lungs. The massive bow was parting sideways was my guess. The wings or flaps pushed against the water. The wall of water pushed back. We were in between.

And then everything calmed down. Before I could get my bearings, something clamped around my wrist. Deen was pulling me up with all her might, uprooting my hands and feet buried in the metal.

“Ugh, at some point, this should be considered torture.” I sat beside Deen, wary of what’d happen next.

I couldn’t see what was in front of me, let alone a few feet away, but I felt something was different. Air whooshed to the front of the ship, getting sucked into a vacuum. Water continued to rush, streams hitting a roof of sorts that made weird sizzling sounds like an electric fly swatter killing bugs. The mechanical noises continued, adding in clangs and engines roaring.

The transport boats to Red Island were getting deployed somewhere in the darkness.

“You lost your bag,” Deen said, as she expertly opened hers with one hand while her other was buried up to her wrist in metal.

“My bag?” I felt around my shoulders.

No straps. Looking behind me, I didn’t see my bag. Or maybe it was there hiding in the dark. I felt around, hoping to touch its sleek fabric. Nothing.

It was fucking gone.

A string of spectacular curses lined up behind my teeth, but I didn’t let any of them out because that’d clash against the character of the face I wore. Actually, I didn’t want to cuss and bitch. I was simply done. “You know what? I’m going naked during the next mission,” I told the empty air in resignation. “Capitalism is a trap. I’m not going to buy any more clothes. I’m not going to buy a phone. I’m going to donate all of my belongings to—”

“Erind, shut up,” snapped Deen.

I blinked. She meant business.

She shoved a bunch of ropes into my hand, as well as her—

“Sandals?” I felt them to make sure. “What am I supposed to do with your sandals?”

“Double those ropes and twist them to make them stronger. Tie one end on the sandals. Make sure it’s secure enough to hold our weight.”

“Our weight? Excuse me? Am I supposed to make a grappling hook with your sandals?”

“Just do it,” she sternly hissed at me. “We don’t have much time.”

I wordlessly complied. Deen had her own project. She appeared to be tying her clothes together, making a rope out of them. Dunno why we needed two ropes. Though given that her clothes would be used for her Guardian Angel’s inexplicable escapade, they were considered gone. At least, we both lost our clothes. Made me feel less bummed about my lost stuff.

“Take this.” Deen handed me her much-deflated bag. It still contained the precious files. The other supplies were helpful too. “Don’t lose it.”

“I swear, I’m not. I lost my bag only because—hey!” I yelped as Deen suddenly pulled me to her. “If you’re going for an emotional hug, then count me out.”

“Climb on my back,” she said. “You’re disturbingly nonchalant about this whole thing.”

“Better than getting stressed out.” I followed her instructions without any complaints despite this entailing physical contact with another human. I’d bitch about this later.

I wrapped my arms around Deen’s neck, her bag secured between her back and my chest. I dug my knees into her waist, clipping on her torso, but that wasn’t enough for her. She pulled my legs to wrap around her midsection. I was like a baby chimpanzee clinging to her mother. Or a backpack.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Aye, aye, captain. I’m not sure what to be ready for, but I am.”

“Follow my instructions for the rope later,” Deen said as she started running to where wind and water were sucked in. “Gabe will help us get onboard those boats.”

“In Gabe we trust,” I said, hugging Deen tighter despite my instincts screaming at me to let go of her. The warm flesh of another human was disgusting unless I was stabbing or punching said flesh. The skinsuit dampened the wretched sensation. I didn’t have time to air my issues with the universe because Deen jumped off the bow!

Just fucking jumped into the abyss of what-the-fuck-I-couldn’t-see-shit!

For the few seconds that we were airborne, I was struck by an epiphany—I should’ve just gone back to bed and forgotten about all of this. I should’ve just enjoyed the cruise instead of inconveniencing myself.

Too late for that now.

We landed, or rather Deen did, on something mid-air. It was technically no longer mid-air if there was an invisible surface beneath Deen’s feet. Looking down, there were hints of a ship below us. Slivers of light peeked through the thin gap of doors and blinds covering windows. This wouldn’t be seen from the decks of the cruise ship. We were three feet or so above its tallest point, a radar thingy.

“A forcefield? Adumbrae power.” I heard crashing and that weird sizzling sound. Must be the waves hitting the huge bubble protecting each Red Island transport ship.

Plural. I assumed the others were there, inside their bubbles.

Deen dropped on all fours to steady herself. I also stretched out my hands to help out; the forcefield had a tingly static feel. Deen and I weren’t trying to win the centipede-impression contest. Rather, we were in danger of slipping off the top of the huge bubble because it rocked back and forth in the ocean. Behind us, the cruise ship gradually became smaller as it swerved away.

“The forcefield’s collapsing,” Deen said.

After saying another last goodbye to my belongings left behind on the cruise ship, I faced forward again and spotted what Deen meant. Several feet away was a shimmering wiggly line forming a circle. It outlined a rough hole on top of the bubble; air rushing towards it was the clue. The hole was growing wider, its shimmering edge nearing us. The Adumbrae was stopping his or her powers because the transport boats were already safe.

“Gabe is telling me to hook this—” Deen was referring to the line of clothes she tied together “—on that part of the hole that projects outward. We’ll ride it down as the hole widens.”

“You sure your designer clothes could handle both our weight? I don’t think they considered durability when quoting exorbitant prices for those.”

Deen ignored me, focused on her job. The shimmering wiggly line passed her feet, and we fell for a second before she snagged one of the curves that jutted out. Perfect timing. We dangled from it, slowly descending along with the dropping forcefield.  

“I can’t believe that worked,” I said. I want Deen’s power. However, hearing a voice telling me what to do didn’t seem pleasant. I changed my mind—her power sucked.    

“Don’t celebrate just yet,” Deen said. “We still have to get on the ship.”

I looked down. The perimeter of the bubble was several yards away from the outline of the ship, lighter against the black water. If we didn’t do anything, we’d land on the water. And it might not be so easy to catch up to a ship by merely swimming, even with super strength. It wasn’t feasible at all. A lot of my plans weren’t really… good.

But I brought Deen along, nullifying my stupidity. I’m a genius!

“Start swinging the grappling hook,” Deen said.

“Sandal grappling hook,” I said.

Deen continued giving me instructions as we went closer and closer to the water. She was telling me how to throw the sandals and just trust her. Trust. That was a very difficult concept for me. I’d rather see what I was throwing it at, but that wasn’t an option.

“Do it!” Deen ordered.

I slung the sandals in the direction of the ship, letting the rope run through my fingers. There was a sound of fabric tearing, and I felt that we were soaring through the air. Deen must’ve jumped right before her clothes gave up being a rope.

“Don’t let go,” Deen said.

Then we were underwater.

I felt Deen paddling like mad. I wanted to help her swim, but I’d have to let go of her and the rope. This isn’t going to work! I wanted to tell her. Gradually, the distance between us and the ship would grow; we’d never catch up to it.

Or could we? I felt a strong tug on the rope. I kept my grasp on it. We were getting pulled to the ship. For a moment, I wondered if the rope got tangled by the propellers, and we’d soon be sushi for the fishes. But we were getting pulled upwards. Soon, we were up against the side of the ship. Deen grabbed onto the hull and started climbing.

“Come up, quick, before anyone finds us,” a drawling female voice told us, her tone not matching the urgency of her words. She sounded familiar.

I looked up at the shadow leaning over the edge of the ship, pulling the rope I held. “Jubjub?”