by J. E. Taylor
I paused at the door and nodded. I hoped there wasn’t anything he was attached to in his suitcase. I just needed to make sure we had enough food and water to survive an extended time in that little boat.
I did a walk-through on the main floor and grabbed an armful of waters, as well as a couple handfuls of snacks before heading to the bedroom. I emptied out my backpack and dropped my broken charm bracelet in the inside pocket before placing the water and snacks in the bag. From my suitcase, I grabbed a change of clothing and did the same for Alex.
I started to leave and then turned back, grabbing our wallets, phones, and passports and shoved them in the same pocket as my bracelet. I hesitated at the doorway, thinking about my patch job. I grabbed the first aid kit, and with the bag, headed back to the cargo hold and Alex waiting with the boat now in the water.
“This thing has a sail,” he said with a smile and glanced at the two things I held. “What did you end up grabbing?”
I opened the backpack to show him our stash.
“Clothes?”
I nodded and put the tablet in the bag as well. I hoped the battery lasted more than a few hours. It was the only efficient way to communicate with Alex.
“I wouldn’t have thought of that,” he said and reached his hand out to take the bag.
I handed it over, along with the first aid kit, and then let him help me in the boat. He climbed in and pushed off, glancing at the luxury yacht with a sigh.
“It’s such a shame,” he mumbled and took a seat next to me on the bench, handing me one of the oars.
We rowed in tandem, watching as the boat drew farther and farther away. Neither of us spoke or typed. We just watched as the sun breached the horizon, coloring the sky. Our slow row was hypnotizing. We kept it up until the sun rose higher in the sky.
“I need some water,” Alex said.
His voice reflected the scratchy dryness that my mouth held. We both pulled our oars in, and I unzipped the backpack, pulling out two water bottles and handing him one. I reached in again and pulled out a couple of protein bars, which we both tore into just as heartily as the water.
“When did we last eat?” he asked after he inhaled the food and drained half the bottle of water.
Yesterday morning before the pirates boarded. I typed on his tablet and handed it to him. I returned my attention to my water, taking small sips to savor the liquid.
“Shit. No wonder I’m a little dizzy,” Alex said as he hoisted the dingy sail.
He adjusted the angle so our heading continued to the northwest. Then he settled in the seat next to me, drinking the remainder of his water in the same conserving sips I was taking.
The wind picked up, moving us along at a decent clip. He didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with talk. He just sat holding my hand as we moved back towards civilization. Thankfully, we were in the Mediterranean, which was fairly calm in relation to the open Pacific. That wasn’t to say there weren’t strong currents or bad weather; it was just less prevalent than in the open ocean where one can go thousands of miles without sight of land. The widest point between land masses was less than a thousand miles. Where we were, unless we started drifting due west, we only had four hundred miles between Greece and Egypt, and we had been dead center when we left the yacht behind.
“I’m in need of a nap,” Alex said, meeting my gaze. “Can you man the helm while I catch a little shut-eye, and then I’ll cover you?” Dark circles under his eyes punctuated his exhaustion.
I nodded and traded places, taking the rudder from him to make sure we kept on our track. I wasn’t tired in the least. Something about sailing quietly on the water had invigorated me. Besides, the cuts on my abdomen, back, and shoulder would probably make sleep impossible.
He leaned over and placed a kiss on my cheek. “Wake me if something happens,” he said and crawled under the canopy at the front of the dingy. He was snoring within minutes.
I let him sleep until the sun started to drop on the horizon. Along with the twilight came exhaustion, and my head bobbed. I jerked in place, forcing myself to stay awake long enough to hand over the post.
I kicked Alex’s foot, and he shot up, nearly banging his head on the canvas canopy.
“What?” Panic laced his question as his gaze darted left and right. When it landed on me, he stared as if he wasn’t sure where he was. He rubbed his face and glanced at the darkening sky. “You let me sleep all day?”
I nodded and yawned.
He climbed out of the hull and took over steering while I crawled to where he had been and attempted to find a comfortable position. The minute I closed my eyes, my eyelids acted like a deranged movie plex where the last few days kept flashing over and over until I thought I’d scream.
I finally silenced the angst and drifted into a restless slumber. In my dream, the trident pierced Alex’s heart, and my brother drove a steak through mine. We died on that pole, together until Fate came and dragged me by the hair, kicking and screaming all the way into Lucifer’s lair.
My penance in hell wasn’t being Lucifer’s whore. No. It was much worse. My voice was taken from me, and I couldn’t utter a sound. And then they put me in a room where I had to watch as Alex was slowly torn to pieces in front of me.
“Kylee!”
Alex’s voice broke through the nightmare as his hands shook me awake. I opened my eyes and flew into his arms, nearly knocking both of us over the edge of the dingy.
“Hey,” he whispered in my ear as I clung to him like a frightened kid. “It’s okay. It’s all over.”
I would have thought I’d be the one consoling him after our encounter. Especially since he’d had no beliefs in the supernatural less than a week ago. He seemed to have rolled with this much smoother than anyone in my past.
I pulled away and brought my hand to his cheek. The smoothness that had been there this morning after our shower was now marred with prickly stubble.
It was just a nightmare, I typed out on his tablet.
“I was surprised I wasn’t plagued with them all day,” he said. “Did you want me to drop anchor and hold you so you can get some sleep?”
I leaned back, studying him before typing, I’m not a damsel in distress.
His lips pressed together in a smirk, and he looked out at the water. “I never insinuated that you were,” he said while trying not to smile at me. “I just thought...” He met my gaze. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” he admitted with a laugh. “I keep forgetting you’ve been around longer than I have. I was just trying to offer you some comfort.”
That’s very sweet, but I’m not sure you holding me would help with the nightmares.
He glanced at my words. “Okay, do you want to tell me about it at all?”
I shook my head and cuddled next to him on the bench. I picked up the bottle of water at his feet and took a sip before returning it to its spot. We had been on the sea for less than twenty-four hours and had cracked open the third bottle.
We might need to slow down on the water, I typed and looked up at the sail as it barely flopped in place. We have at least two more full days.
“Which means you need to get some real sleep. We have to alternate in order to cross the distance as quickly as possible.” He folded the sail. It wasn’t doing much with relatively little wind. He tossed the anchor overboard. “I don’t expect us to get very far without wind, and I don’t have the energy to row alone, so we are going to try to get more sleep and conserve some energy in case we have to do some rowing in the morning. Okay?”
I couldn’t argue with his logic, so I let him pull me down onto the hard hull. His shoulder made for a soft pillow, and the heat from his body kept me warm. I closed my eyes and thought, Just for a few minutes.
Chapter 16
Holy brightness. I turned my head away from the light and into a hard knob. I blinked my eyes open and stared at an elbow. It took me a moment to place where I was, and I nearly chuckled. The only thing that stopped the laugh from escapin
g was the origin of the light. It wasn’t the sun. It was a spotlight.
I shook Alex awake. His groggy gaze met mine then squinted into the light. He shot to a sitting position, scraping his head on the canopy in his haste to get up. The person holding the light lowered it a fraction. Beyond the bright spot sat another small craft.
“Είσαι καλά?” a voice called from beyond the light.
Alex traded a glance with me. While I understood the question asked in Greek, he obviously didn’t, and without a voice, I couldn’t answer.
“Are you okay?” the voice asked in English this time.
“Who are you?” Alex asked in a wary voice.
“Coast Guard,” the man said.
The tenseness in Alex’s form released and he slumped. “Thank God,” he said. “We’re banged up, and she needs stitches. I did the best I could to try to fix her up before we escaped, but I’m not a doctor.”
The skiff closed the distance, and someone tied a rope to the pad eye of our lifeboat before they pulled alongside us.
Alex helped me to my feet, and just before he handed me over to the Coast Guard, I pointed towards the backpack, meeting his gaze.
“Don’t worry. I won’t forget what little stuff we have left,” he said and gave me a tired smile.
I crossed over into the skiff with the help of three military-built men in uniforms.
“What’s your name,” the one holding my arm asked.
I glanced at him and tapped my throat with a shake of my head.
“She hasn’t spoken since we were attacked on the yacht we rented,” Alex said as he stepped into the skiff with the backpack hanging over his shoulder.
A flashlight shined at my throat, and the owner of the light actually winced. I hadn’t had cause to really study myself in a mirror since my brother died, but I ventured from the man’s face that I had some nasty bruises from when Jeremiah tried to strangle me to death. A crushed larynx would be a hell of a reasonable fabrication and I was glad Alex’s explanation spawned the thought. It certainly would explain my loss of voice.
“We’ll get you to a doctor in no time,” the man said after he shut off the light. He sat me on a bench and wrapped a warm blanket around my shoulders.
Alex took a seat next to me with a blanket wrapped around him too. He put the backpack between his feet and threaded his hand in mine. The simple gesture warmed me more than the blanket.
They brought us to a bigger cruiser, helped us aboard, and brought us into a sheltered area while they headed in the direction of Greece’s mainland.
A formal looking gentleman in a neatly-pressed uniform came in and took a seat across from us. He pulled out a pen, scribbled on the clipboard he held, and then finally looked up at us.
“I am Commander Angelis with the Hellenic Coast Guard.”
His heavy Greek accent was hard to miss, and the fact he remained all business sent off alarms in my head. I gave him a nod and traded a glance with Alex.
“I’m Alejandro Cervas, and this is Kylee Paradox.” Alex put his hand out, and the commander stared at it for a moment before he shook it. The pause was enough to set the mood. This wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.
“Were you aware that Captain Hagan and his crew were murdered?”
I stared at him and slowly nodded. Alex hadn’t been conscious when the captain died. I made a motion for something to write on, and the commander handed me a pen and paper.
We were attacked by something, I wrote. If they found the boat, the crusted statue of my brother would go a long way to substantiate the partial truth I was spinning. Alex played dead, and before the something had a chance to kill me, another boat came into the vicinity, and the thing took off. But before it left, it promised it would be back for me.
I glanced at Alex, and he gave me a nod before I handed the commander the paper.
Commander Angelis raised an eyebrow as he read my note. “You expect me to believe this?”
I stood and let the blanket drop from my shoulders so I could lift my shirt, showing him the deep gashes Jeremiah’s nails left. And then I turned so he could see the same on my back. I pulled the shirt down and took a seat.
Alex draped the blanket around me again. “It did that to her,” he said, meeting the commander’s sharp gaze. “Whatever the hell it was.”
The commander leaned forward and handed the paper back to me. “What did you do next?”
Alex started to answer and the commander glared at him. “I want to hear this from her.”
I glanced at Alex then held the pen to the paper once again. We ran. That thing took the bodies with him into the sea and took off. I wasn’t waiting around for him to come back and finish us off. We lifted anchor and headed away as fast as the yacht would take us. Unfortunately, we didn’t get very far before pirates attacked the ship.
I handed the sheet to him and waved my fingers for more. He handed me another piece. Before I continued, my hand fluttered to my throat, and I blinked back the mist that covered my eyes.
The pirates... Well, they wanted to sell me to the highest bidder back home but wanted to make sure I’d be worth the money. They nearly killed me before the men started to turn on each other. It gave us the opportunity to escape. We’d been drifting in that life boat for a few days.
I handed the last sheet to the commander and avoided eye contact. This was the dicey part. If they didn’t believe us, we were going to be screwed for a very long time.
He read the note, closed his eyes, and wiped his face before clearing his throat.
“And where were you during all this?” he asked Alex, his voice as accusatory as it had been before.
“I was in and out of consciousness for part of it and then just blazing mad. But Kylee kept me out of harm’s way and got me down where the lifeboat was. Her voice was gone by that point, but she was able to get me to understand we needed to escape. We left just as gunfire broke out in the main cabin.”
He studied us, his gaze traveling from Alex to me and back like he was measuring the level of bullshit we were feeding him. There was something under the accusation in his eyes. Something haunting. I had an epiphany and pointed at the papers. He handed me one.
I wrote, How many men on this ship died?
When I handed him the slip of paper, he recoiled, his eyes widening before shooting to mine. His composure melted, and he crumpled the paper and looked away.
This man was looking for answers. Answers as to why his ship became a war zone. A mythological creature wasn’t good enough. Especially since he himself had been affected by my brother’s siren song. There were too many haunting glances for me not to be right about this.
I tapped the floor with my foot, bringing his attention back to me.
“Six,” he answered and paled. “One by my own hand, and I need to know why.”
An ensign came in, interrupting the conversation. He handed the commander a photograph. Commander Angelis stared at the picture for a good minute before his gaze rose. Whatever color had remained on his face faded, leaving him almost green. He blinked, glanced up at the ensign, and handed me the photo.
“Was this on the yacht when you boarded?” he asked with a tremble in his voice.
I looked at the black and white photo of Jeremiah frozen in death. A shiver rippled through me, and I dropped the photo as if it were burning my fingers. My hand went to my throat. I shook my head, trying to swallow the bile that had risen up my esophagus. The revulsion and horror filling my form hit like a fastball to the abdomen.
Alex put his arm around me. “That was the thing that nearly killed us,” he said, staring at the photo face up on the floor.
I glanced at his pale profile. His aversion to the photo was as real as mine. I could feel it in his grip on my shoulder and see it in the tension of his jaw. When he raised his gaze to the commander, the man across from us flinched.
Commander Angelis ran his hand over his face. “That is a statue,” he said, denying what he m
ust know as the truth.
In these parts, there was plenty of speculation regarding mermaids and sirens. Especially after what happened to that cruise ship.
“It wasn’t when we saw it, and it had legs, not the damn tail you see in that picture. The face is the same, and so are the clawed hands,” Alex snapped. “If you have any doubts, measure the statue’s damn hand and compare it to the bruise on her neck.” He hooked his thumb in my direction. “Or measure the spread of the thing’s claws and compare them to the cuts on her stomach and back if you still have doubts.”
The commander’s gaze moved to my throat. “If you wouldn’t mind putting your hand over the shape of the bruise,” he said to Alex.
“Excuse me?”
“Do it,” he snarled.
I lifted my chin and turned toward Alex. His hand was much smaller than my brother’s, so I had no issue with the request. At least it might ease the obvious angst the commander had in relation to us.
Alex did as he asked. The commander mumbled under his breath.
“Thank you.” He picked up the paper from the floor and waved the ensign guarding the door over.
I caught the whisper to have someone measure the hand on the statue and for the ensign to measure the mark on my throat. He gave a nod and stepped out. When he returned, he had a piece of string that he used to span the bruise. With the length measured, he left us alone with the commander.
“I don’t believe in mythology...” Commander Angelis stood, glancing out over the ocean. “But I heard the most haunting songs before all hell broke out on this ship. It was similar to what you described happened to those pirates. And if I allow myself to believe for a second that a merman did this to all of us, I will be put in a padded room for a very long time.” He turned to us. “Why did we stop? Why didn’t we slaughter ourselves until everyone was dead like on that cruise ship?”
I pointed at the picture and made the writing motion. He handed me another piece of paper.
If that truly is the being that attacked us, perhaps his death is what released us all from the siren’s control.
