He places the puppy into my arms. I gasp; she looks terrified and confused, and immediately snuggles closer to me.
“She’ll be okay,” he mutters as he watches us together.
“Why is she hurt? What happened?” I try to sit up. Ouch.
His mouth presses into a straight line. “She’s okay, just hurt by falling debris. Look, you shouldn’t be moving around. I need to tend to your wound. I only had time to clean it before the puppy needed my attention.” The sub heaves and he scans the viewport. “I recognized the tremors and then saw you were already gone. I knew Jojo would be able to locate you faster, so we went after you. A rumble threw you, and we found you just as the trees began collapsing.”
I again move to sit up but wince as pain jabs at my leg. Ari groans and sits down by the sofa with the first aid kit. He gestures to my leg. “I need to touch you; is that okay with you?”
I nod and he immediately tends to my leg. There’s an obvious gash and it stings. Though his hands are huge, they’re unexpectedly gentle.
What if he hadn’t gone looking for me? Sam! I beckon Oscar and question him.
“Our visitor left a message for you, my dear lady: ‘The modification is now fixed and running smoothly. There should be no further problems with it. Good luck!’ ”
Did she escape the resort in time?
Ari watches me as he secures a dressing on the wound, the orange depths of his gaze shifting as he narrows his eyes. Curse the color rushing to my face; he’s so close, though. And it’s as if he’s trying to understand something. When our gazes meet, the muscles in his sharply angled face flex, a curtain draws over his taut expression, and he’s unreadable once more.
“It makes it harder for me to ensure your safety if you go running off without letting me know.” He says it very matter-of-factly.
“I don’t need you to—”
The vessel lurches. I gasp and move to stand.
He shakes his head. “You need to rest for a while.”
“I want to see what’s going on. I need to see it.”
I make my way to the viewport and he joins me, though unlike me, he doesn’t pause a good distance from the windows. He continues walking right into the very tip. I gulp; how can he stand so close to the windows? He stares at the sight below us. I grab a pair of binoculars from their hook and slump down onto the cushions several feet away.
As the submarine pulls away, the resort is barely recognizable. Only an eerie shell exists now. The odd submersible escapes the madness, hurtling away at full speed. Defense vessels and bots of all kinds scurry around the place. I zoom in even closer on the binoculars and cry out.
“Oh my God . . . There are people still trapped down there! We need to go back. We have to go down and help them!” I stop to catch my breath.
He stares at me.
I shake my head. “Why did they do this? Why do they hunt us down like this?”
He pinches his lips together, his expression tense.
“I hate them,” I whisper. “I hate them so much. . . .”
Whoa. My head grows light and I fall sideways. He’s beside me in an instant. I wave him away. I need to see what’s going on. He turns back to the view, swearing under his breath as he takes in the scene beneath us, his eyes shadowed.
A deep tremor rocks the submarine. My insides zigzag and coldness sweeps through me. It has to be an explosion. Jojo barks and scurries to me. The surrounding waters cloud with bubbles as further tremors and eruptions follow from below. I roll along the floor. Ari halts my movement, Jojo in his arms. I peer out. Oh my God. I cry out at the sight.
The mighty ocean smashes its way through the resort’s curved roof, and the wild and very real sea pours into the building. An escaping submersible is caught in the downward flow and sucked back inside the resort. The huge whale that had been looking in on us all is also tugged down toward the doomed building with the unflinching force. It fights through the turbulence, though, and speeds away.
I stare, shaking my head nonstop. It’s too much. It’s hell. The submarine shudders.
“Rise now!” I shout at Oscar.
The vessel battles against the pull from beneath us, rising above the deadly maelstrom. The waves are frantic and the water churns, blocking the view. My insides heave; my mouth tastes funny. Did Theo’s friend get away in time?
People are dying down there—the impossible pressure, the water smashing its way into their lungs. They’ll be fighting for their last breath. So much horror. Such loss of life. My whole body shakes. I need to pull myself together. Focus.
Ari’s expression is dark as his gaze meets mine, his mouth set grimly. I turn away.
“O-onward, Oscar,” I instruct the Navigator, forcing my voice out and trying hopelessly to slow down my racing heart. “To the borders.”
I lie on my side, my eyes closed. The same scenes play over and over inside them. People terrified, running for their lives, the ocean crashing down on them, flooding everything and everyone in sight. I shudder and open them again.
Security is heightened further. Naval subs, bots, and unmanned patrol drones everywhere you look. Despite Theo’s device now running smoothly, remaining discreet in the heightened climate seems impossible. We cannot be stopped, though. I need to get us across the borders and then on to Grandpa’s place in King’s Lynn. Once he joins me I will insist he tell me everything he knows about Papa’s disappearance so I can work out where to begin searching for him.
At least Sam made it out, thank God; she messaged us to let us know. And the authorities don’t know about her and so won’t have been tracking her communications. I don’t want her getting any grief from them. I check the news.
The attack on Brighton Pier is so far an isolated incident. Every news station is covering it and Anthropoid Attack! flashes away at the bottom of the screen. The chill returns, the tightness in my chest. I keep watching. I need to know. And then the pictures emerge.
There are a couple of them. Each figure caught by Eyeballs and Newsbots as they dart through the water, hungry for death and destruction. Bloodthirsty and inhuman. One even brazenly swims right up to a Newsbot. A long, pale face with limp, fair hair swaying in the water around her. There are three fingers missing from her hand. Gaunt cheeks sink inward, and her icy blue eyes are penetrating. . . . Her gaze burns with rage and loathing. I recall all the notices and warnings now: It isn’t a she. It very definitely is an it. My pulse races as I take in the pictures. Crushed bodies float around inside the resort. It’s too much.
I turn away, only now realizing Ari has entered the room. He stands rigid, his shoulders rising and falling as he watches the screen. He catches my eye and moves over to the wall, staring intently at the picture of Papa and me. I command the screen to turn off.
I chew on my lip. “There were others headed for the hatches,” I say. “Maybe some of them might have been saved if they’d come on board the sub?”
He doesn’t turn around. “My responsibility was only to you.”
How can he be so matter-of-fact? “We might have saved someone. If you could’ve helped even one person survive that madness, then you should have. The pain their families are going to go through . . .”
He swings around, his mouth clenched as he looks down at me through hooded eyes. He shoots a quick glance back at the picture again, before returning his gaze to me. Although his expression is blank, there’s something behind the flickering amber specks in his eyes. Something he’s struggling with. He opens his mouth to speak, when he tilts his head, distracted. His gaze darts past me to the view outside, his expression expectant.