Outcasts

by Claire McFall

  “No.” He shook his head, denying her words.

  “I saw it, Tristan,” she repeated. “In the real wasteland. It destroyed the planks in the hull, and then, when we started sinking, it reached up and pulled Jack out of the boat.”

  “Maybe it only exists in the real wasteland,” Tristan offered.

  Susanna shook her head. He knew better than that. “If it was there, then it’s here.”

  “Well,” he said, shrugging helplessly, “I guess try not to wake it up, then.” He reached out and laid a hand on her arm, his skin startlingly hot against hers. “Remember, I won’t go in the water. If this thing is there and starts trying to sink me, I’ll—” He broke off, grimacing.

  “You’ll row away and leave me,” Susanna finished for him.

  “I’m sorry,” Tristan said softly. “I am sorry, but I will. I’ve got no choice.”

  “You do have a choice,” she disagreed, “and you’ve made it. Just like your soul made hers. It’s OK, Tristan. I understand.” Susanna didn’t like it, but she understood. She took a deep breath. “All right, it’s time.”

  “Good luck.”

  Like before, she toed off her boots, not wanting their weight to impact her mobility in the lake. Then, smiling wanly at Tristan, Susanna gathered her courage, and flung herself into the water.

  It took her a moment to adjust to the shock of the cold. She spun under the surface, squinting through the murky, silt-heavy water for signs of wraiths. There was none. Their boat held no soul, and the wraiths could tell.

  How was she going to draw them to her?

  Swimming lithely up to the surface, Susanna clung onto the boat as she drew in several deep breaths.

  “Any luck?” Tristan called from above her.

  “Nothing yet,” she replied. As she shifted position, she scraped her arm on the side of the boat, which rocked with the little waves she’d made. Wincing slightly, Susanna examined the scratch, seeing little drops of red pooling in several slightly deeper cuts.

  Well, that was one way to do it, she thought.

  Gritting her teeth, Susanna shoved her sleeve higher up so that the full length of her forearm was exposed, then she raked it down the rough edges of the planks along the side of the boat. Splinters dug into her skin and she hissed against the pain, but when she drew back her arm to look at the damage, droplets of red were already splashing down into the water.

  “Are you sure that was wise?” Tristan asked, momentarily blocking out the light as he leaned over the edge to stare down at her.

  “I’ve got to attract the wraiths to me somehow,” Susanna replied.

  She used the vessel’s weight to thrust her back under, the water filling her ears so she didn’t have to listen to Tristan’s grunt of disapproval. It was her arm, after all, and she’d do a lot worse than inflict a few flesh wounds to get Jack back.

  This had to work; she’d never have another chance like this, when there was another ferryman to help her. It was now or never.

  The water remained empty, but Susanna knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long. She might not be a soul, but she knew from painful experience that wraiths enjoyed the taste of her blood.

  There!

  Something was swimming towards her, fast. Susanna allowed herself a grim smile as she kept her eyes on the approaching wraith – and the two that were following quickly in its wake. She didn’t register the two wraiths darting in from behind, though, not until the last second, when the swoosh of air bubbles in the water tickled her neck. She tried to turn, to lift her arm in protection, but one tangled in her hair and the other took a firm grip on the bottom of her jeans.

  A heartbeat later, the first wraith she’d seen reached her, slamming straight into her stomach. The breath wheezed out of Susanna and she jerked and twisted in the water.

  Suddenly, pressure around her middle started hauling her upwards. She thrashed, fighting against it until she realised it was Tristan doing as he’d promised and pulling her free.

  “No!” she gasped as soon as she reached the surface. “Not yet. I don’t see Jack.”

  Tugging the rope slack again, she let the wraiths, who still had her clenched in their jaws, drag her back under, ignoring Tristan’s worried shouts.

  Where was he? Where was Jack?

  Her lungs were already starting to burn, and her body stung all over as the wraiths worked at her, but Susanna ignored them. Pain was fleeting. It was nothing, just her body’s warning system. She needed to focus. Find him.

  “Jack!” She used all of her precious oxygen on the shout; she didn’t see him, but there was a chance he might recognise his name.

  Unfortunately, she now had to breathe. Tugging harshly on the rope, Susanna let Tristan haul her up to the surface where she took two quick, ragged breaths, then dived back down.

  The wraiths were growing in number, drawn by the scent as more and more of her blood seeped into the water. They were violent and frantic, tearing at her, yanking her this way and that. A small swarm, determined to bring down their prey.

  And none of them was helping her.

  Where was he?

  Please, please, don’t say that she’d imagined it last time. That Tristan was right and he was really gone. He might even be the wraith with its teeth wrapped around her wrist, or the one trying to pull her hair from her head.

  A wraith slashed in front of her face, side-swiping several that had been bombarding her in repeated dives. Turning fast in the water, it came back again, a vicious snap of its teeth tearing the back fins off the wraith gnawing at her shirt.

  Jack!

  Ignoring every wraith attacking her, Susanna concentrated on the darting form intent on helping her. He moved so fast, slicing through the water much better than she could. She’d never be able to catch him, but if she read his path correctly…

  Susanna waited. The compulsion to breathe became a torment that was almost impossible to ignore, but she managed it. The need to fight the wraiths that surrounded her made her arms spasm and jerk time and again, but she held them still. Then, as the wraith that had to be Jack came back around, intent on a wraith clinging like a limpet to her thigh, she exploded into motion. Her arms snapped closed and her body folded over, creating a cage to hold him. Using her legs for propulsion, she tugged on the rope, hoping Tristan would read the movement and know she needed to be rescued.

  Nothing happened for two long, long seconds, but then Susanna felt the pull of the rope as she was hoisted towards the surface.

  Yes! she thought. Jack was going crazy in her arms. Like a fox caught in a trap, he twisted and tore, searching for a way out. Susanna just held him tighter. Now that she had him, she wasn’t going to let him go. In just a second or two they’d be at the surface…

  Without warning, the wraiths attacking Susanna darted away. She experienced a single, blissful moment of calm before the reason behind their desertion became apparent. Something wrapped tightly around her lower leg, something much bigger than a wraith. A tentacle… Its grip tightened to the point of pain, then started pulling her downwards. Susanna felt herself sinking for a moment before Tristan reacted to the pressure on the rope and started tugging harder.

  The rope around her middle; the tentacle around her ankle. Susanna felt like she was being torn in two. The pain intensified as both Tristan and the creature pulled, and Susanna knew her body couldn’t handle much more. She screamed as blinding pain raced up her leg. The creature’s squeezing grip had snapped her tibia in two.

  Hanging onto Jack for dear life, Susanna lifted her free foot and kicked, hard. The tentacle wrapped around her just tightened, the resulting agony making Susanna think she might pass out, but fear and adrenaline kept her conscious and gave her the strength to kick, kick, kick again.

  She would not let go of Jack. She would not let the creature pull her to the darkness at the bottom of the lake. Not now, when she was so close.

  Come on Tristan, she thought. Pull!

  He seemed to hear her
. A spine-jarring yank on the rope coincided with another of Susanna’s furious kicks and suddenly she was free, surging towards the surface.

  “Here!” she gasped, as soon as she broke the surface. “Take him!”

  A moment later Jack’s writhing, wriggling form was plucked from her grasp and Susanna was left to scramble over the side. Her leg screamed with the movement, but she ignored it.

  “Quick, give him to me!” She gestured furiously, reaching out with one hand and swiping her sodden hair out of her face with the other. “We have to get out of here, now!”

  “What?” Tristan thrust wraith-Jack back at her and slammed himself onto the rowing bench. “What do you mean?”

  “The creature! The one I told you about, it’s down there!”

  As if on cue, a resounding thump walloped the bottom of the boat.

  “What the hell is that?!” Tristan exclaimed.

  “Just row!”

  Thankfully he didn’t argue further, snatching up the oars and starting to plough them through the water towards the shore. Another thump hit the boat, rocking it and almost making Tristan lose an oar, but he held fast, grimly rowing harder.

  Susanna used her back and her one good leg to wedge herself into the bow of the boat, leaving both hands free to try and hang onto Jack. He was gasping alarmingly, his body flopping around. He looked… well, he looked like a fish out of water. And Susanna was no expert, but she was pretty sure most fish couldn’t survive long that way.

  “Hold on,” she murmured to him. “Please hold on.”

  They needed to get to the shore, where the creature – Susanna prayed fervently – couldn’t follow them.

  She shrieked involuntarily as another heavy thump smacked the hull. This time it was accompanied by an ominous cracking sound.

  “Tristan!” Susanna cried.

  “It’s OK,” he replied through heavy panting. “We’re almost there.”

  They were. When Susanna lifted her head to peek over the side, the pebbled beach was much closer than she’d thought and the next thump, when it came, struck the very back of the boat, with much less force than the ones that had come before.

  Susanna let out a single sigh of relief as the boat scraped along the shallows of the lake.

  “Come on.” Tristan was already up, vaulting over the side and splashing into the ankle-deep water.

  “I can’t,” Susanna replied, shifting awkwardly into a more upright position. “My leg, I think it’s broken. Here, take Jack. I can manage if you hang onto him.”

  Though he’d grabbed the wraith from her when she’d first burst through the surface, Tristan looked extremely unwilling to put his hands on it once more. He took a small step back, eyeing the writhing black bundle with distaste.

  “It’s Jack, Tristan,” Susanna reminded him. “He’s still there, deep inside. I know it.”

  Reluctantly, Tristan took wraith-Jack from Susanna and, with her hands free, she was able to topple painfully over the side. Using Tristan’s shoulder for support, she limped and hopped out of the water onto the shore.

  “Give him to me,” she pleaded, as soon as they were above the tide-line. She dropped to a slumped kneeling position, leaning heavily on her good side, and reached her arms up for him. Tristan immediately relinquished his bundle, relief apparent on his face.

  Susanna didn’t have time for his distaste, or his scepticism. Jack was gasping violently now, suffocating in the open air. His movements were feeble and spasmodic, as if he was at the very end of his strength.

  As gently as she could, Susanna laid him down on the pebbles. She kept him pinned there with one hand, then stroked the length of him with the other. That was enough to rouse Jack into one last attack, his head lifting up to snap at her fingers with a snarl.

  “He’s not in there,” Tristan murmured from above her. “Look at it, Susanna. It’s a mindless thing. It’s empty.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Susanna disagreed. “It’s Jack.” She took a deep breath, the air wobbling all the way in and coming out just as jaggedly. “Come on, Jack. Come on. It’s me, Susanna.” A pause as she evaluated Jack’s reaction… or lack of it. If he heard her words, recognised her voice, he didn’t show it. She didn’t know what she had been expecting to happen, what miracle she thought might suddenly take place once she had him in her arms.

  She just knew she had to try.

  “Jack, please. I know you’re in there. I came for you, like I promised I would.”

  He’d stopped moving, was lying like a lump of charred wood on the bed of stones. His form was smoking gently, wisps rising up into the air.

  “He’s dying,” Tristan said quietly.

  “No.”

  But he was; she could see that he was. Jack was dying right in front of her eyes, and Susanna had no idea how to help him. How to reach him.

  “Please, Jack.” Struggling to see through her tears, Susanna leaned forward until her forehead pressed against the motionless flank of Jack’s wraith body. It felt slightly slimy and scaly against her skin, and the position sent fire running up her injured leg, but Susanna didn’t care. This was the closest she could get to Jack, the last few moments she’d have with him. “I’m so sorry,” she said hoarsely, steeling herself against the tears threatening to escape. “I tried, but it wasn’t enough.”

  He was still trembling slightly, the gills where his head met the long, eel-like body fluttering valiantly, but unless she was willing to put him back in the water, he’d be gone soon.

  And Susanna couldn’t do that to him. The Jack she knew would rather die than spend eternity trapped in the darkness of the water he was so afraid of.

  A melody came to her, something Jack used to sing all the time. Susanna could barely hold a tune, but she hummed it quietly to him, hoping it might offer some sort of comfort as he slipped away. As she felt the last tremors leave him, she finally let herself cry. She’d failed him, but at least she’d freed him from the torment of being a wraith. That was something.

  “That’s… impossible,” she heard from above her.

  Susanna ignored Tristan, turning away from Jack’s body. Tears coursed down her face, blurring her vision. Her whole body shook so badly it felt like the ground beneath her was pitching and rocking, as if she was still on the boat.

  “Susanna—”

  “Go away, Tristan,” she managed to grit out. “Go back to your soul.”

  “Susanna.” A hand came to rest on her shoulder and she jerked her head up, ready to scream at him. Why wouldn’t he leave her alone?

  But it wasn’t Tristan’s hand. And they weren’t Tristan’s eyes she caught and held for an instant before familiar arms wrapped round her and she was yanked into a rib-snapping hug.

  They were Jack’s.

  CHAPTER 23

  “You were a terror as a toddler. You used to refuse to get your teeth brushed, running all over the flat. Naked.” Joan delivered the last word with gusto.

  James coughed out a laugh, his mouth stretched into a grin, but tears were streaming down his face. Dylan’s cheeks were just as wet, but she’d given up wiping them a long time ago.

  “That’s not true!”

  “Oh, but it is! You liked running around naked. One time you did it in a supermarket. I was panicking because I’d lost you, and when the shop assistant and I found you, you’d ducked into the toy aisle and stripped all but your knickers off. You were most displeased to be interrupted.”

  “Mum!”

  Joan smiled through red-rimmed eyes. “It’s lucky for you mobile phones with cameras weren’t around then. I’d have had some crackers of you.”

  For the thousandth time, Dylan wished she could reach up and hug her parents, and for the thousandth time she had to hold herself back. Not yet. Just a little longer.

  She sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the sofa, where her mum sat under the comforting arm of Dylan’s dad. Joan was retelling every single memory of Dylan’s childhood. Most of them were hazy at best to Dylan
, and she was drinking in Joan’s words as much as her dad was; to him, they were brand new. Moments in time he’d lost, never to get back.

  As she’d done every five minutes as the morning had rolled into the afternoon, Dylan craned her neck round and glanced out of the window.

  “Don’t look, Dylan,” her dad said gently.

  “What?” Dylan twisted back round to stare at him.

  “It’s best not to look,” he advised. “I know it’s frightening, but we’re safe in here. It was like this all day yesterday, but as soon as Susanna returned, it went back to normal.”

  Oh. He thought Dylan was afraid of the scene outside, the harsh, bleeding underbelly of the wasteland. The jagged rocks and burning sun, as well as the wraiths that crawled over the land even in the height of day.

  She was afraid of it, of course, but that wasn’t why she was looking.

  “It’s not that,” she told him. “I’ve seen the wasteland like this before.” On that awful, awful day when she’d thought she’d lost Tristan, and she’d huddled, alone and terrified, in the corner of the safe house. “It’ll go back to normal, once they come back.”

  That’s what she was looking for. A sign that Tristan was returning to her. Had she been alone in here again, she’d have spent the day at the window, watching for him, but this time with her mum and dad was too precious.

  “Of course.” Joan’s smile was brittle. “I forget that you’ve more experience of this place than we do.” She hauled in an unsteady breath. “Are you sure, sweetheart, absolutely sure, that it can’t be undone? Your father and I will happily take your place, Dylan. So don’t worry about us.”

  “It’s done, Mum,” Dylan replied. “There’s no going back. But even if I could, I wouldn’t. I was supposed to die in the train crash. That was what was meant to happen. I tried to change it, and I stole your lives instead.”

  “You didn’t steal them, Dylan,” her dad jumped in. “We’d give them to you. We are giving them to you.”

  “It’s too late.”

  “No.” Her dad shook his head. “I don’t accept that. There must be a way.”