Page 53 of Not Today, Satan
The back of my throat burns, and I close my eyes against their piteous looks. “Sorry,” I whisper. “You belong to the creatures now.”
Then I swing my sword down on the final rope.
The bridge collapses with a loud snap, the shadelings making no sound as they disappear below. The fins swarm them in an instant.
Grunting, I hoist Nate up on my shoulders and start down the ladder on our side to the shore below. I take my time as my boots are slick with mud and slip on the metal bars. By the time I make it to the bottom, my fingers ache from gripping the railing too tightly.
Massaging my hand, I scour our surroundings.
We need a place to hide so that Nate can recover, preferably far from here. The trackers on the greedy shadelings will alert the souldiers of their escape and send them right for us. We need to be gone before they get here.
A loud rumble draws my attention to the right, and my stomach sinks.
Or they’ve already arrived.
The souldier boat is more impressive than the dinghy Nate and I took to the island. It has a metal roof and is large enough to carry at least ten souldiers. It’s one of the newer boats in Father’s fleet. Faster than the wooden dinghy and fueled by coal, the steel hull is stainproof and impervious to the sharp teeth of the creatures in Lake Sanguis.
That’ll do.
The boat propels the souldiers to the shore, where they leap out in tandem and chase the dripping shadelings emerging from the water. The Greedy wail and reach for the souldiers’ weapons. One manages to rip off a boot and holds it over its head like a trophy.
With the souldiers distracted, I sprint as fast as Nate’s weight will allow toward the boat. They didn’t even leave anyone behind to guard it.Works for me.
Taking a deep breath, I climb the ramp leading to the boat. It’s large enough we could spread out across the floor and not touch. The walls are high, the metal impervious to not only the creatures below, but the souldiers’ arrows.
As far as getaway vehicles go, we could do worse.
Wehavedone worse.
I drop Nate onto the empty floor with a thud and run to the controls. There’s only a wheel and a lever. Okay, it looks easy enough. But nothing’s ever easy here.
I shove the lever forward, and nothing happens. Sweat builds on the back of my neck, and I survey the rest of the bow. I sigh inwardly at the metal doors under the steering wheel.
Right. I have to start it first.
I open the compartment that contains the coals and frown. There’s no starter. I search for a button or a lit torch, but there’s nothing among the coals or by the steering wheel. This is why the souldiers didn’t leave anyone behind. They took the starter with them.
Well, they tookastarter with them.
I stare down at my palms. It worked on the bridge. Please do it again. Closing my eyes, I hold out my arm and picture the coals catching. Heat flares down my arm and blasts through my palm. The coals spark, then glow orange with light, and the engine roars to life.
A smile tugs at the corners of my lips. This will come in handy.
“Hey!” a souldier cries from the shore. “Get out of there!”
Snapping my head up, I knee the doors to the compartment closed and reach for the lever before taking a deep breath.
Here goes nothing.
XXIV.
I ram the lever forward, and we bolt through the water. I’m thrown back, but I catch myself with the wheel and grip it with all my strength.
Behind me, Nate rolls across the floor. He hits the wall with a thump and lets out a low moan. Once the souldiers disappear from view, I slow the boat and sag against the control panel, catching my breath for the first time since we exited Lot Eight.
“Devica?” Nate moans from the floor. He lays on his back, brow furrowed.
I exhale a long stream of air at the sound of his voice. “Oh good, you’re awake.”
