My hand shakes violently as I lean back to aim. The two limp fingers aren’t helping. I recall Theo’s instructions. Now. I press the tase button.
Nothing.
The beast tries to grab Oscar, its hands falling through the air.
I try again. The button’s jammed. No. I inhale sharply. Huge mistake. It turns to me again and moves toward me.
I clench my mouth and repeatedly jab the button. Come on! It finally depresses. Now. I aim the brolly at it and press again on the tiny green button with everything I have.
A buzzing, zapping noise reverberates around the room. The thing shudders. Its whole body convulses as it stares at me, eyes wide and mouth open.
Using both hands to combat the trembling, I aim and fire again. Once more the room fills with the dull droning sound. I keep my finger pressed down. Finally, only several feet from me, the Anthropoid staggers back. It falls, hitting its head on a pipe before meeting the floor. It twitches.
I sit up, crying out and holding my head. Shuffling closer to it, I aim and zap it again. Somewhere, at the back of my mind, there’s this feeling too much will kill it. I don’t even care. The trembling is alarming now; I just can’t stop shaking. It finally stops moving.
I aim for its heart and zap it once more.
I force my voice out. “Jojo?”
The puppy utters a sound in reply but stays where she is. Her once gleaming white coat is blotched a bright and baleful red.
“Oh, Jojo . . .”
I shuffle toward her, cradling her, stifling a scream as my limp fingers brush against her and radiate agony. I grab a pipe and haul myself up. The room spins. There’s a hammering in my head and my neck aches. The spinning eases and I force my feet to move. The Anthropoid lies there. Focus. It’s impossible; everything’s fuzzy. Every muscle in my body seems to have gone rigid. I turn to the Navigator. It’s an effort to raise my voice above a whisper.
“Heartbeats, Oscar . . . Is there an uninvited guest in the engine room?”
“There is not, my dear. There are only the heartbeats of my lady and Jojo.”
A sob escapes my lips and my shoulders slump. I stare at the dead Anthropoid. I’m glad.
Holding Jojo, I open the door; the passageway spins before becoming clear. And I see them both. The monster—panting and dripping in blood—looms over Ari, who’s up against the wall, its hands wrapped around his neck. Oh God. I freeze.
It’s as if I’m watching it on-screen. Ari starts to slump down against the wall, the beast hunching over him as he does. And then Ari slowly reaches up and wrenches the knife out of the Anthropoid’s neck.
I lose count of how many times Ari stabs it.
I don’t even look away.
It’s as if none of it is real. The knife goes in—blood comes out. Again and again.
The ferocious being finally staggers back. It jerks. The eyes bulge. All the muscles in its face tighten. It claws the air, choking, clinging to its artificial breaths for everything it’s worth. Which is less than nothing.
Its mouth twists and blood splutters and seeps from everywhere. It reminds me of orcas in battle. Except orcas might have more compassion.
At long last, its hands stop scratching the empty space, and it slumps facedown onto the floor. The body twitches, then stills.
I can’t stop shaking my head, and my body won’t stop trembling. My breathing is too fast and raspy. A pool of blood spreads around the monster. I cling to Jojo.
Ari stands there looking at it, a stunned expression on his face. Cuts and blood mar his gold-coppery skin, his body already swelling. His chest rises and falls, exhaustion in every breath.
As he notices me, his mouth falls open, his eyes flitting between Jojo and me.
I killed the other beast, I want to say. But the words are stuck. And my ribs hurt from breathing alone, never mind speaking.
I swallow and point at the engine room behind me. His eyes narrow.
“Go,” he urges, his voice barely audible. “Back upstairs. Lock yourself in the saloon and see to you and Jojo. Please, Leyla,” he says, when I haven’t moved.
I blink rapidly before dragging my feet toward the stairs, taking care to step around the expanding channel of blood.
I make my way up to the saloon, secure the door behind me, and lean against it.
An incessant drumming beats inside my skull, a dull, pulsing agony. I squeeze my eyes shut in the hope things will be clearer when they open. But no. A void rises inside. I push it back down. Right, the Medi-bot for Jojo.
I make my way to the cupboard, hugging the whimpering puppy close. Oscar speaks. What’s he saying? My head is going to explode, surely. An unbeatable vacuum rises up, sucking me inside.
I catch my breath and slump down, hitting the floor.
“Steady . . . and increase the thrust,” Papa instructs me. “Trust those instincts, Pickle. I’m right beside you.”
I’m eight, driving a sub for the very first time. I’m hesitant but also desperately want to try it. I increase the speed, dip low, and zoom over the rust-and-coral-covered steel wall of the Thames Barrier. I’m free. “Look, Papa, I’m flying!”
Papa laughs, his heart in his eyes. “Yes, you are!” He beams.
“Papa? You’re my wingman.” I giggle.
His eyes fill with emotion. “Pickle, you’re my entire world.”
Everything falters just a fraction. I try to hold on. I can’t. I’m pulled back, rudely plucked from such a perfect moment in time.
My eyes flutter open. The corners of my mouth curl up. Papa. And this time he wasn’t suffering. This time it was a real memory. I blink rapidly. I’m on the floor in the saloon. My hand is wet. Red. My eyes travel down. Jojo’s nuzzled close to me. Blood seeps from her ear, her eyes barely registering me. Oh God. I gasp as I remember.
I sit up and wince. Hurried footsteps sound from somewhere. The door opens and Ari rushes over. His expression is the heaviest I’ve seen, his eyes dark and troubled as he takes in the scene, his gaze darting from my face to Jojo, and back to me again.
“Slowly,” he says. “You must have blacked out.” He picks the puppy up and checks her wound. “Jojo needs stitches. I will see to her. How do you feel?”
I push my hair out of my face and yelp, jerking my hand away. I bite down hard on my lip. Ari’s gaze travels to my misshapen fingers. Rage and concern take their turns, but it’s the consideration that reaches his eyes.
I check the time. I’ve been out for over an hour. I grimace. How could I cave in at a time like this? Jojo gives a faint whine.
I take deep breaths. My head feels like it will implode. Everything hurts too much, and I can’t think straight. I clear my throat. “Yes,” I whisper. “Please see to Jojo.”
He hands Jojo to me and I cradle her in my arms as he gets to work following the Medi-bot’s precise instructions. He grabs the medical supplies from the cabinet. “There’s only one Medi-bot?”
“I think so. Jojo first.”
He cleans and prepares the puppy’s ear. “What—what did you do?” I ask, keeping my eyes on Jojo.
“They’re gone. I used the waste disposal unit.”
“They’re no longer on board?”
He shakes his head. I slump in relief.
The muscles in his face flex. “I’ve ordered Oscar to keep going. And to crush anything that gets in our way.” Her stitching done, he gently scoops Jojo out of my arms and lays the bandaged and medicated puppy inside her Bliss-Pod to rest and heal.