Troy and Kyle exchanged the lead every other lap. The other racers were hardly a factor.
“Heckuva fake-out move by Tombolo to get around Kyle, but Zale is visibly unhappy—here he comes on the inside of Tombolo—they cross the start/finish neck-and-neck—it’s Tombolo who edges Kyle to lead that lap, but back comes Kyle, now Tombolo, now Kyle—wait, the track is changing…snow…we have snow! The drivers must shape-shift their mermobile’s undersides to slide in and out of the corners. Elad?”
“Yeah, Kram, watch Tombolo…watch how he uses the jagged undersides for the straight-aways, then shape-shifts his mermobile into a sled-like underbelly for the corners—”
“Oh! Clive spins and flips! Full course caution,” said Kram.
“How do they change the track to have snow?” I asked.
“Weather mermaids.”
“Of course.” Stupid me, I should know there’s a mermaid for every occasion.
As Troy described, the pit boxes soared up out of the trenches and crew members zoomed around, working feverishly to make adjustments.
“Refuel here, guys?” asked Kram.
“Yeah, doesn’t hurt. Add a little more shell, maybe add a figment and blazer,” said Elad.
“A figment? Think they need it, Noty?” asked Kram, trying to engage the very quiet third announcer.
“Well-f, swure. Whfat da heel.”
“Noty Proctor. He’s a good time kind of guy. I used to have quite a fin flippin’ time with him. We love him,” said Treeva.
“Great pit stop for Tombolo. He exits pit road in first place after taking a figment and a blazer. For those who don’t know what those functions do—a figment is a tool you use to get past a trick,” said Kram.
“And a blazer is two-fold. On the one hand, it makes your mermobile go really fast, but on the other, it sends a cloud of sand in the face of your competitors. Kinda like the old saying, eat my dust,” said Elad, laughing.
“We’re back to green beam racing,” said Kram.
After countless cautions, twelve wrecked mermobiles, ten evil hag obstacles, eight swinging tentacles, five giant electric eels, three massive shark’s teeth, two miscues by Troy’s spotter, and a partridge in a pear tree, we were down to just five laps remaining in what has been the most exciting race of my life.
“Green beam! Green beam! Kyle quickly takes the lead—whoa, dangerous slide into turn one for Tombolo—Kyle’s pulling away, but the track is changing again—collapsible track pits—Kyle skillfully uses the uplift to send him over the first hole in the track, but Tombolo…doesn’t see the hole!”
“Aw, man, that’s a shame,” said Elad. “Full course caution. Tombolo’s done.”
“What?” I exclaimed, while Treeva rattled off a string of four-letter words.
I quickly used my mirmagbinio to listen in on Troy.
“What are you doing up there, Malgore? Scratching your ass?” screamed Troy.
“Sorry, just didn’t see it,” said another voice, I assumed was his spotter, Malgore.
“You don’t miss holes, mother-eff,” said Tank. “Listen, Troy, we can fix this. You’ll just have to move through the field like a crazed squid. We’ll get you out before the pacer, but you’ll have to haul it. Got me, kid?”
“10-4.”
“Treeva, where are the spotters?”
“On the crater rims. Malgore is directly opposite us in the blue cap, piss-yellow fin.”
I magnified his face with my mirmagbinio. I didn’t like him. I hated him. Yeah, that reaction scared the crap out of me. Hesitantly, I pushed the purple button.
“I can go west, gamble in the Pacific. That’s loads of money, man. Maybe I’ll get a wife…maybe a few. Zale money. Ain’t it great,” said Malgore’s true reflection.
“Malgore’s throwing the race! He’s been paid off by Zale!”
“What? Marina, no, he’s been Troy’s spotter for years. He made a mistake, that’s all,” said Treeva.
“Look,” I said, handing her the mirror.
“Not something I want to do, but, hey, the bonus I get if Tombolo dies…it’s worth that kind of money.”
Treeva and I exchanged horrified looks.
“He’s trying to get my brother killed! I’ll be damned if I let that happen.” I never thought Treeva could get so irate.
“What do we do?” I asked.
“We stop the little prick.”
“Strands! Take us to Malgore, spotter for Troy Tombolo,” I said.
Treeva smiled at my take-charge attitude; little did she know how terrified I felt. The strands grabbed us and zipped us up over the racing mermobiles.
“Tombolo is making his way through the field, but with only four laps to go, it looks like Zale is going to win this one—three laps remaining—Tombolo’s up to tenth…eighth…sixth…”
“Crash off turn two, Kram! Banz and Rool were late in jumping those holes, and Rool just couldn’t hold his line, like always…took me out a time or two,” Elad groaned. “Caution, folks.”
Treeva and I were flying higher and higher until we landed on either side of an unsuspecting Malgore.
“Tree, um, hey, what are you doing all the way up here on the rim?” he asked, squirming. “Who’ve ya brought? The Normal?”
“The Normal has a name, and it’s Marina. And I have a brother I won’t let die. Tell me Malgore, how much did the Zale’s promise you to throw this race?” said Treeva through clenched teeth.
“What? Shoot, Tree, I don’t know what you’re—”
“And how much more to kill him?”
Malgore’s face drained of color; his piss-yellow fin even turned pale.
“You know what I’m capable of…” whispered Treeva, grabbing his neck.
“No!” he shouted, dropping his red earpiece and jetting off into the darkness.
“Take over, Marina!” yelled Treeva, moving at an unfathomable speed after him.
The earpiece looked like one of those twisty straws from my childhood, but with a curved tail. When I lifted the curly part closer to my ear, I heard Troy’s frustrated voice.
“Mal, you there? Dude, I need you! Where the hell are you?”
“Um, well, I’m here, but I’m not Mal, and I’m not a dude,” I said, fitting the twisty part to my ear and pulling the curved bottom to my lips.
“Marina? What’s going on? Where’s Tree? How’d you get up there?”
“Long story. Basically, Malgore was working for Zale, Treeva’s gone all super-heroine, and I’m your spotter.”
“Holy sh—”
“Sharks? I’m sure that’s what you were going to say.”
“Oh, the hell it was! You’re my eyes, and you have no idea what you’re doing! What the hell are we going to do?!” he shouted.
“Well, for starters, we’re going to win this damn race.”
After a moment of nothing, he calmly said, “I think you are seriously turning me on right now.”
I giggled. Damn, that giggle totally spoiled my I’m-such-a-cool-relaxed-chick-in-a-man’s-job vibe.
“Okay. We’re going green beam this next time by,” I said, my palms clammy. “Green, green, green, green—you’re in third, two laps to go—watch the seven, he can’t hold the high line—hole just before turn three—go soaring…now! Nice move past the seven! You’re second, Troy, last lap—squid tentacle out of turn two—figment it! YES, it disappeared! Half a lap left, Troy…blazer his butt…NOW!”
“They’re coming to the finish! Kyle, Tombolo, Kyle, Tombolo, Kyle…TOMBOLO wins!” screamed Elad.
“YOU WON!” I jumped on the screaming bandwagon.
“WE won,” he said. “You’re a born spotter.”
“Nah, just watch a lot of racing.”
“Want me to come get you, so we can party in winner’s circle?”
“Oh, I’m thinkin’ so, yeah!”
“I’m on my way.”
I stood calm and proud, waiting to see Troy heading my way. Raucous cheering, singing, and wild la
ughter electrified the stadium; I could even see fans waving their Tombolo flags. The excessive happiness seemed to float on the ripples as I awaited Troy.
“Here he comes now…and he’s bringing six racers with him. Okay, weird. Could they move any faster? He really should slow down…a lot. He’s going to freaking hit me!”
I noticed the noises in the stadium had changed. The singing, cheering, and laughing had become terrified screams. Merps desperately fled the stadium, escaping something that moved violently through the stands, something emitting purple flashes of light.
“My God,” I whispered. Part of that something terrorizing the fans was heading straight for me.
The next thing I saw was the deadly tip of a trident pointed directly between my eyes.
Chapter Nineteen
Rundown
“Move, and I will spike this through your skull,” growled Kyle Zale, touching the tip of his trident to my forehead. “And I’ll do it slowly because, let’s face it, it’s more fun that way.”
“Let me go, creep-face!” I yelled as he yanked me inside his mermobile.
“That’s right. Give me a reason to off you. I love offing,” he sneered. “Bad move, having you stand next to the little prince during a live broadcast.”
Kyle finally shifted his devil eyes away from me. With a great roar of his racer, we blasted through the dark waters. I needed to find a way out, a way to get help. I stared at Kyle’s face, wondering how someone as kind as Treeva could love someone as cold as this man. Then it dawned on me. TREEVA! She can sense Kyle’s warped love!
“You’re a big faker, you know. All this ‘Oooh, I’m a big, bad Zale with greasy hair and abnormally large pores.’ Please. I know you still love Treeva,” I said, working to steady my wobbly voice.
His eyes darted sideways, and he shifted in his seat.
“A love that deep never fades, does it?”
“Shut up,” he growled. His temples throbbed. Kyle Zale feels.
“It’s not too late, you know. True love can survive even your hideousness. Possibly, anyway. Maybe if you—”
“You trying to give me advice?” he asked, laughing.
Crap. If I have any chance of Treeva sensing our location, Kyle must feel hatred. “My bad. Reckon I wasn’t thinkin’ straight. Yeah, you totally disgust her. Your face makes her want to gauge her eyes out. The idea of your skin against hers makes her cringe. Pretty sure if she had the chance to kill you…she would.” It worked better than I hoped, considering how hard he pressed his trident against my face.
“I hope you enjoy pain as much as I relish giving it,” he said, digging the trident in a little deeper. “Burn.”
The trident’s point blazed against my skin. Not wanting to give Kyle any more satisfaction by screaming out a lung, I drove my nails into the palms of my hands, trying not to faint from the wretched smell of burning flesh…my flesh.
There should be a law against driving while trident-burning. The smell and pain neared the unbearable mark. I—couldn’t—take—much—more.
Then, just when I thought my skin might melt off, Kyle screamed angrily in Mermish, bringing his racer to a hasty halt. Out of nowhere, orcas and armored dolphins formed a tight circle around Kyle and his henchmen. Among them, at the very head of the circle, were two familiar mermobiles: Troy, his eyes radiating hatred, and Treeva.
“I’m what they want. Just let me go, and nothing will happen,” I pleaded.
“Normal-hugging dolphins, a few fatty whales, an ex-girlfriend, and a pretty boy prince—we should make quick work of them. RAWARGE!”
“Noooooooooo!” I screamed as the circle of defenders closed in.
Screams, dolphin cries, and snaps of deadly purple and blue rays rang out on every side of us. CRACK! CRASH! WHAM! The mermobile racer rolled over and over. Clinging to the roof, then the floor, then the seats, then the roof again, I lost all sense of where I was…until one massive bang split the racer in half, leaving me floating without direction. While narrowly avoiding rolling whales, darting dolphins, Kyle’s goons, and purple and blue strikes, I frantically searched for Troy.
“Marina!” I heard him shout from somewhere behind me.
His face and form were formidable, but fear shadowed his eyes. I desperately navigated through the battle to reach his arms. Troy, while pushing through the unsightly dolphin-shark clashes, kept his gaze fixed upon me, breaking only to fight off Kyle’s men one by one.
“Marina,” he breathed.
Our hands were only inches apart when something fastened around my neck and towed me away.
“Troooooooooy!”
He screamed my name, but it was too late. A wall of great white sharks moved between us.
The thing around my neck dropped me in the middle of nowhere, far from the action; the whales now looked like little toys.
“Good boy, Snatch.” Disgust flooded my brain when I heard her voice. How I hated her. “How do you like my little baby, Marina?” Katrina tenderly stroked a malevolent-looking eel. “He brought you to me like a good little boy, yes he did.” Katrina cooing at anything was terribly disturbing.
“Perfect choice of pet for you, Kat. Adds a sort of symmetry to your personality.”
Smirking devilishly, she said, “So, Troy actually brought you to our world. Hope you enjoyed your visit.”
“I did, but for this little snag,” I said, gesturing the fight in the distance. “I look forward to visiting again.”
Her eyes flashed red for a millisecond. “Do you? See, I’m thinking you’ve dirtied our world long enough.”
“If Troy wants me here, I’ll come here…and I can tell you, he wants me.”
“Funny thing is…I don’t,” she growled, her bloody red strands reaching for my neck.
In one swift move, she ripped off her gaudy red pendant and stabbed it deep into my stomach. I hardly saw it happen. Blood started pouring from me, and I knew the sharks would descend at any moment.
For someone who had just succeeded in stabbing her enemy, Katrina looked oddly unsatisfied. “What, not dying quick enough for you?”
“Impossible. You’re supposed to lose it,” she whispered.
“Maybe, but, then again, I’m not you.”
Katrina and her eel quickly disappeared.
Strangely, I couldn’t feel any pain. My insides felt loose, detached in a way. I just floated, watching the blood gush from my open stomach. For a moment, I didn’t feel like myself; I felt distant, almost empty. The thought of death didn’t alarm me. I truly had no feeling for anything.
Then I heard his voice in the distance, and my feelings returned. I cared. I wanted to live.
“Dolphs, to Marina!” screamed Troy.
The dolphins arrived just in time to block me from a horrifyingly large group of bull sharks.
“T-ree,” I muttered when Treeva appeared by my side.
“It’ll be okay. I’ve got you now,” she said, holding me in her arms.
My head felt like a two million pound whale. No longer able to hold it up, I let my head hang and rest against Treeva’s shoulder. When I did, I saw something moving beneath the protective circle of dolphins—something with jaws the size of the Grand Canyon and teeth as sharp as Poseidon’s trident.
I tugged on Treeva’s arm with what little strength I had. “You’re gonna need a bigger fin.”
Treeva glanced down, horrified. “Son of a bitch!”
Just before the colossal beast closed on us, Troy descended, shoving the mighty shark off course.
“I love my brother,” whispered Treeva.
“I—lo…too,” I moaned before passing out.
*****
“You stubborn ass! We need to get her to him fast, Troy, and Manakel can get her there the quickest.” Treeva’s voice sounded very far away.
“I’m sure he’s handier than a mini-trident, but I’m not letting her go alone with this down comforter.” Troy sounded stern and perturbed.
“So I can go back to my cloud,
then? I have a deliciously shimmering treat waiting for me,” said Manakel.
“Move, cherub, and I’ll kill you,” said Treeva.
“What part of ‘I’m already dead’ is unclear?”
“Then I’ll pluck your feathers one by one.”
“Promise?” said Manakel.
“T-roy?”
“Marina! Can you hear me?” Troy asked anxiously, stroking my hair.
“She’s had her gut sliced like a naughty shark, Fishy. Her ears haven’t been lobbed,” said Manakel.
“Can hear you…all of you, even the frisky, feathered maybe-foe,” I said before coughing up my tonsils. The pain in my stomach shot straight through to my spine. Clutching the wet sand beneath my hands, I screamed in agony.
“I resent the implication that I have some shiny skinned Sheila all buttered up on my cloud. Not that it’s any of your business, but my treat is a 1930 Storm Breweries bottle of fine hurricane rain.”
“Just shut up,” said Troy angrily. “What happened, Marina? Who did this to you?”
Unfortunately, the only answers I could give were earsplitting screams.
“Bloody drungo. Making her talk speeds up the ‘Oh My God she might effing die’ mentality,” said Manakel.
“Troy! Just let him take her to Hambury House! Trust me!” Treeva pleaded.
“Fine. But if anything happens—”
“Nothing will…with me,” said Manakel, taking me into his arms.
I felt a brief breeze, but little else as my eyes closed once again.
*****
“Marina,” said a man’s voice. “Marina, I need you to look at me.”
Struggling, I willed my eyes to open and found a familiar face: it was the man I saw in the study the night Manakel rescued me from a wall-smash death. But there was something else about him…
“Principal Jeepers?”
“By day, yeah. Can keep an eye on my enemies that way…at least as much as they’ll let me. They pretty much think I’m unstable and only in the job because of some grand-merman clause, which, of course, I crafted. Fools. Now, where was I? Ah, yes…by day, I’m the principal, by night…I’m Dracula,” he said, smiling. “Only kidding. He’s a popinjay. Anyway, you can call me Doctor David Tenly, or just David, Tenly, Doctor David, or even Doctor. Now, what color eyes do I have?”
FINNED (The Merworld Water Wars) Page 21
