This particular sub is especially determined to be noticed, though. Even out here where there’s no one around for leagues.
“Send them another warning, Oscar. A bigger one.”
“A most equitable response, my dear—and one already conducted.”
My eyebrows meet. “And they still persist? Who on earth are they?”
Ari jerks his head up. “If you hit their propeller, you’ll send them spinning below. Problem over. Oscar, damage their vessel.”
I scowl in his direction; maybe I should cancel his primary rights again. I turn to the Navigator. “Totally ignore that, Oscar. Accept communication request.”
Ari mutters something.
The screen comes to life. “Coo-ee! Only us! Just spreading the good word.”
It’s a group of missionaries. I shake my head, unable to control the grin spreading on my face. Even here, in the middle of nowhere. Ari walks over, his eyes narrow, hands on hips.
The immaculately dressed group offers warm smiles. A woman in a fuchsia hat waves at me and clutches her chest. “Oh, look at you, lovely. Thank you for agreeing to chat! Tell us, child, what do you think happens to your soul when you d—”
“You’re about to find out.” Ari bares his teeth. “Go now, or I’ll sink you all.”
I swing around to face him, my mouth open. He refuses to look at me.
His shoulders rise and fall, and his nostrils flare as he glowers at the jovial group. “Why bother us? You could have endangered our vessel. Trouble us again and—”
“Hold your tongue,” a suited man says to Ari. “We risk life and limb in the wilderness, to reach those without direction. We offer to show you the way down here and this is how you respond?” The agitated missionary straightens and addresses me. “Blink twice, child, if you need rescuing. He’s clearly beyond saving—headed straight for the fiery bosom of his mistress’s—”
A woman hurries forward and whispers in his ear. Seconds later, communication is cut. Oscar confirms the vessel has sped away. What the—
A sense of foreboding rises from the pit of my stomach.
Ari glances at me. “Don’t feel sorry for them. They could have harmed you.” His eyebrows meet. “What’s wrong?”
“You think I’m stubborn? Missionaries never, ever give up that
easily. . . . Something’s wrong.”
Jojo barks and sprints toward me; I scoop her up. “What is it, baby?”
Ari’s hands curl into fists by his sides, his eyes fixed on the viewport behind me. My insides lurch at the possibilities. I turn and gasp at the sight, covering my mouth.
It’s all flesh and wires. A small head and bulky body. It’s difficult to tell exactly what it once was. Only its face and flippers remain intact.
The corpse of the animal rotates in the vessel’s harsh lights. I stumble back and hug Jojo tighter. The creature’s midsection is missing. Inside the cavity of muscle and tissue, cables are all that remain. The wiring hangs out of its body, floating in the current. A small titanium contraption is strapped to its head, still flashing away.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “What is it? What on earth is it?”
Ari’s eyes turn cold. “It was once a sea creature. Before the government decided to use it to its advantage. There are so many others like it.”
I look down, shaking my head. “Poor, poor thing. But why did those people flee from it?”
“That’s not why they left. . . .” Ari’s voice is grave now, his tone low.
Jojo starts whining. A cold chill sweeps through me as I lift my head back up, hugging the puppy close.
In the distance, a great, lengthy shadow looms. A wall of hazy darkness. A wall that’s alive, moving. It’s a group of something. . . .
Ari hurries back to the files. “Move away from the window! Tell Oscar to turn around now.” His tone is urgent. His hands swish through the air as he scans further files as fast as possible. “We need to retreat at least a league. Until it’s time.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re here. Whatever they are, they belong to the prison. It’s Broadmoor’s first line of defense.”
I sit up in bed and check the time. One a.m. An hour before my alarm is due to go off. We’ll soon head out in the hope of being at the prison when its moon pool opens up.
None of it seems real. Is there really a chance I might see Papa again in just a few hours? What state might he be in? My insides quiver. I mustn’t make any mistakes.
The plan fills me with dread: We’ll blast our way there, and then Ari will exit the Kabul in the submersible and head into the prison itself after Papa. It’s a totally bonkers plan. But I’m low on choices. I shared it with Bia, and once she realized I wasn’t budging on it she promised their guy inside would cause a distraction—a big one, and help in any other way they could in order to give Ari more of a chance to enter and leave safely with Papa. Both Ari and I have memorized every detail of the prison’s interior security measures and prepared accordingly.
Deep, melodic notes sound as the sax echoes in the submarine. Ari’s awake. I shuffle out of bed, wash, and read the Qur’an, praying for forgiveness.
I know if I hadn’t killed it, the Anthropoid would’ve killed me. But I’m personally responsible for a life leaving this world. Anytime I dwell on any of it, it’s too much.
Jojo’s still asleep in her Bliss-Pod when I’m done and I head for the galley. Emerging with two hot chocolates, I cock my head. Ari’s up in the small platform at the very top of the vessel. The music switches now to an incredibly sad piece as I make my way up. Such a low, forlorn tune that makes my heart ache. Can sound cry?
He glances at me as I crouch down at the top. His gaze is empty, distant.
Something’s on his mind. And whatever it is, it’s not good.
Ari puts the wooden sax down. I pass him his drink. A crimson Lumi-Orb casts a warm glow over the space. We sit in silence, sipping the hot, sweet liquid. Above and all around us the dense waters lap against the 360-degree translucent dome. Tiny creatures pass by, their lights pulsing away in the night.
He turns to me. “You mustn’t go any farther from this point. Stay here in the submarine and wait for me. I’ll take the submersible. I promise to do what I can to bring your father to you. Don’t go anywhere near the place. Please. Their weapons are too many, too harsh.” His voice is hoarse.
“And how do you think you’re going to get past all their security and anywhere near the prison, without the Kabul’s firepower? Ari? What’s wrong?”
He hesitates and faces the water before answering. “Did you see the news?”
My throat goes dry. It can only be bad. I shake my head.
“It was another attack. This time on a small community hiding out in Leeds. It was . . . bodies everywhere . . . Even children, babies.”
My hand flies to my mouth.
“They went after them with everything. Ripped whole families apart . . .
They’ll stop at nothing. What they did in the Faroe Islands . . . It was cold, calculated slaughter.” The tension is visible in his muscles, the strain showing in his jaw. He hangs his head.
My insides sink. Images of mutilated bodies flash before me. Anthropoid bodies. Anthropoid families. And I feel...pain. My heart actually hurts for them.