S. Welles - To Ocean's End

I headed to the bow while Rammus headed for the wheelhouse, then I kicked off my sandals next to the Harpy and unbuttoned my pants. Rammus was watching from inside the wheelhouse. I held up a finger, signaling him to wait a moment, then climbed onto the bow and looked at the rolling water. It was clear and beautiful, yet too deep to see to the bottom. I had an intimidating fifteen-foot dive. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure everyone but Rammus had gone below deck, then made myself dive in before I could talk myself into climbing back down. Sure, I could transform on the deck but I really didn’t want an audience while doing that. Something about people watching me transform made me feel extra freakish.

I plunged below the surface then arced back up and took off my pants and boxers. I’d ripped out of enough clothes this year and didn’t need to ruin more. Both articles hooked on one finger, I concentrated on triggering the transformation. The sensation was like reaching inside myself for a trapped scream. I felt my skin tingle and body ache, reflexively fought away the sensations, then forced myself to let go and have the transformation do its thing. It felt like stretching out the stiffness after a good night’s rest. My body swelled and expanded into a ketos in seconds, and I heaved a satisfied sigh when done. I still loved and hated how powerful this form felt.

I shifted to my serpentine aquatic form, then popped my draconic head over the bow and flicked my clothes onto the deck. Looking at Rammus, I drew a horizontal circle in the air with a clawed finger. “Go ahead and release it!” I cupped the anchor in both hands, then started swimming ahead of the bow as the chain rattled with a drumroll of heavy thunks as it spilled out. The anchor itself weighed five hundred pounds, but my rode was four-to-one, and each chain link weighed fifty pounds. I was going to be carrying around a good few tons of dead weight, in addition to hauling a three hundred foot steam frigate over three thousand nautical miles. I was going to have to time this in a way where I wouldn’t be exhausted when we arrived.

Once the entire rode was free, I telepathically told Jessie to tell me when everyone was settled down. And while I was waiting for that, I gently pulled the Pertinacious into motion with my command over water and began swimming. A minute later, I got the all-clear. I built up speed and strength until we were gliding along the surface on a mound of water, just like a hurricane lifts the sea with it.

It took two days and two marathon runs from me to make Newport appear on the horizon. Rammus had piloted the ship while I passed out in my bunk between marathons. Mido fed me calorie-packed meals after each swim, and the crew left me alone. They looked lost and worried but I didn’t care. All that mattered was reaching Newport, which we did two mornings later.

Once I reached the eastern tip of Long Island during my second marathon, I helped weigh anchor, then climbed aboard and reverted back to human, Rammus taking over in the wheel-house for the rest of the trip. I rinsed off in the showers, got dressed, and wolfed down probably two days’ worth of calories in one sitting. Eggs, cheese, bacon, buttermilk biscuits with lots of butter, some cantaloupe, electrolyte water, and enough coffee to get my hands shaking. Jessie, Mido, and the others gave me worried looks but otherwise kept their mouths shut as I envisioned Newport getting pulverized over and over. O’Toole hid away in the cargo hold the whole trip, even at night. Sam tried to coax him out but ended up bringing him food, which O’Toole pecked at, and Sam just left him be. We had enough reasons to be stressed out. Still the Irishman’s behavior worried me. When he was fine, all of us were fine. When he fretted, we fretted, going on alert like he was a pet dog growling at an unseen threat in the dark.

Tin of coffee in hand, I headed to the bow. Fog hung low overhead. Below it visibility ranged far, Connecticut and Rhode Island lining the horizon. Sam was on the bow, his gaze fixed on land. I walked up beside him and took a noisy sip of coffee. “You have my permission to run to your family and protect them.” He looked at me, his face drawn with fatigue. He probably hadn’t slept much in two days, if at all. “Fight hard. Fight fiercely. Don’t give what rises out of the ocean the satisfaction of making a meal out of you and your family.”

“Thank you, Captain.” He turned back to land, to home.

“Thanking me is the last thing you should be doing. This is all my fault.”

“I beg to differ. If you knew your choices would lead to this, you would’ve done different.”

I appreciated his loyalty and liked his logic but I wasn’t going to argue right now. I left him be and took over for Rammus in the wheelhouse, but I couldn’t keep still in my chair. I checked a drawer for my nautical charts, which were all present and accounted for, then stood at the tiller, drumming my fingers and tapping a foot. I didn’t see any smoke rising in the distance, which I hoped was a good thing. And once we were less than a mile from Newport’s southern tip, it was clear that nothing was on fire, much less harmed. I sailed into the harbor, around Goat Island, and docked at Wyndham Wharf, which had changed so much over the decades. The harbor had been teeming with private boats before the Purge. Now just a lucky few were proud owners of steam or bio-fueled vessels no more powerful than my kernels. The rest were bigger deep sea fishing boats for either commercial or recreational use. And now the port was a minor trade checkpoint since the Big Apple was now the Big Core.

I flipped on the sound system. “Everyone get on deck and throw the lines. We’re here. Everything looks intact so far.” Newport splayed out behind my stern in all its patched-up lack of glory. People meandered up and down the dirt streets, going stall-to-stall shopping, or whatever they were doing. “We need to evacuate the town. I need a few of you to head to the naval base north of here and convince them to help us evacuate Newport. Tell them whatever you think’ll convince them to believe you. I want as little collat—” I had a sudden urge to stop talking look out over my bow. There was only calm water but I felt like I was being watched by unfriendly eyes. “Hurry up and arm yourselves with everything you can and get ashore. Stay together. Protect yourselves and the landies, but don’t throw your lives away. If at any point running seems like the best idea, do it. Don’t hesitate; just run. The bottom line is to stay alive.” As much as I wanted to save innocent lives, my crew was the most important to me. They weren’t replaceable or reconstructable, like a house or a town. I switched off the sound system, unbuttoned my trench coat, and downed the rest of my coffee. Once I had the Pertinacious lined up with the pier and we were tied down, I cut the engine and headed to the stern. I didn’t bother arming myself with anything. I already had my demon form, which I had a feeling I was going to need real soon.

My crew joined me at the stern, armed with belts of grenades, sharpened swords, and a few crossbows and stuffed quivers. Jessie wore her studded gloves. Eleven people to protect one town from a supernatural invasion… it wasn’t enough. Too bad O’Toole wasn’t secretly able to scare off sea monsters like he could quasi-children. He was still hiding in the cargo hold. I took a quick head count, just to double check, then waved for everyone to follow me down the ladder.

Part of me didn’t want to leave my ship. It was like a security blanket. However, my feet touched the wooden dock and carried me down the pier. I kept glancing at the water as the rest of my crew followed, one by one. They formed a loose semi-circle on the dock and I faced them with my back to the water. The landies eyed us curiously, and with some trepidation. A couple loudly complained about my return before going on about their business. I mentally winced. These people hated me because trouble followed me every time I visited. After today, they were going to despise me for the rest of my unnaturally long life.