Wild Sun
Page 32
He had managed to detach the belts holding him in place, but nothing else really mattered unless he could get the door open. He might have ripped away a piece of metal and tried to pry the lock, but he simply didn’t have the strength. The second crash landing had been less unpleasant than the first, but the base of his spine was now nothing more than a ball of pain.
When the water reached his neck, he realized he was actually swimming. He at least had an opportunity to clean the vomit off his overalls, which he did to keep himself occupied if nothing else. Some plant was stuck to the window, which was now fully submerged. Beyond he could see only the sky. It was going to be a nice day.
I don’t want to die like this.
A shape landed on the shell with a thud. When he spied arms and legs, he realized the shape was a woman. A dark Echobe woman with long black hair wearing a filthy pair of overalls. Upon her cheek was a thin red scar. Clamped in her teeth was a large knife.
Hands planted on the window, she peered down at him.
Sonus didn’t know what to do.
The woman took the knife from her mouth and jabbed it into the side of the door with the lock. Though Sonus appreciated her help, there didn’t seem to be a great deal of thought behind her efforts. He heard the blade sliding and stabbing and scraping at the metal, but to no avail.
Sonus suddenly heard a hissing sound and saw one end of a thin hose fly up, liquid shooting from it. The woman slid off the door. Sonus tried to push it up. There was some give in it now, despite the weight of the water. It began to move. He saw the woman’s fingers on the edge, and their combined efforts finally did the job: as water poured in, the door sprang open.
Now the shell sank quickly. Sonus let the water take him. He floated up to the surface to find the woman bobbing next to him.
“Can you swim?”
He nodded.
“This way,” said the woman, powering away toward the bank, cutting a path through the largest water lilies Sonus had ever seen.
He followed at about a third of her speed and was surprised to find his back actually felt better in the cold water. By the time he reached the far bank, another group had joined the woman, most carrying Vitaari weapons. They were a mix of Echobe and Palanian and had clearly just left the water themselves. One man—a large, muscular fellow—looked rather dazed.
The woman exchanged a look with another, who took the lead and pushed her way through the dense bushes. The others followed.
Sonus glanced back across the river. Several trails of smoke were reaching high into the sky.
When he looked back, the woman had gone. He struggled on through the bushes, catching only glimpses of the others ahead until he finally caught up with them. He straightened and winced as the pain in his back returned.
The woman who’d rescued him tucked her knife into her belt. Only now did he notice how tall she was.
“Thank you,” he said.
She scraped her wet hair back over her head and looked him up and down. “What’s your name?”
“Sonus.”
“You need to move faster, Sonus.”
COMING FEB 2021
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Ehsan and Shakil Ahmad simply love the art of storytelling. It’s a passion they’ve shared since their childhood in New York City, the first-generation American children of immigrants from Pakistan.
Today, the brothers are back in the city of their birth, working for separate tech startup companies while collaborating on novels and screenplays.
Ehsan and his wife welcomed their first child into the world in 2018.