FLOOD

Tides of War

I ran, flat out, sprinting through the forest, ducking through the dark outlines of the trees. The impact of my feet hitting the earth vibrated up through my legs, my heart slammed against my ribcage and each gasping breath, ragged in my throat, made my lungs feel like they might explode.

The roar of the ocean pulsed in my ears, tugging at something deep in my guts, some primal instinct that drove me forward relentlessly. There was nothing that could have stopped them then, not bullets, not spotlights, not charging soldiers.

Voices all around me, yelling, screaming, the staccato report of gunshots. In the noise I lost the sound of Cain's pounding footsteps behind me, but I knew he was still there, close on my heels. The needle was still in his hand, the serum in his pockets. He was going to try to drug me again, drag me away into the woods, into his grandfather's bunker below the earth. And then pull me apart, dissect me. The same thing they did to my Kalda.

Now the ocean rushing in my ears sounded like her voice, somehow it turned into her calling my name. It made my heart race faster, and the blood pumping through my body felt like fire. The jotun may not have much faith in the gods any longer, but we do believe in an afterlife, and the spirits of the dead that still sometimes walk.

And now more than anything, it felt like Kalda was running beside me. The way we used to do when we were children, racing one another through the woods at dawn, dodging trees, our laughter ringing through the still, green forest as the sunrise crept through the tree trunks in orange bars of light, glowing brighter and brighter the further we ran.

Now I could hear her laughter, over the ringing in my ears, between the screams and sobs and gunfire. And I wondered if they tossed her body in the ocean when they were done with her, when her blood had run out and her life had faded.

Maybe that was why the ocean sounded like Kalda. Maybe that was why it was calling my name.

The end of the trees came so suddenly that I nearly stumbled, shooting out into the open made me almost dizzy, and the sand slid beneath my feet. The shore, I was on the shore now, looking out at the dark, vast expanse before me. Our ship was still in the harbor, waiting, black sails still dripping water. The entire wreck tilted to one side, listing so hard it almost looked as though it would tip over and sink.

The ocean still tugged at my guts, and I stumbled forward, half crazed, ripping at my boots as I went. It was this insane need to be in contact with the water that drove me now, to feel it wash over my feet and twine around my ankles, to reach down and let it rush over my hands and arms. The ocean meant safety, it meant power, it meant the end of all this.

"Vee!"

I jerked around, almost fallingover in my shock. Cain stood at the treeline, and the needle in his hand flared silver, like it was tipped with a cold fire. The moonlight painted him in black and white, and he looked so much like Eli that panic rose up in my throat to choke me. I'd left Eli back there. What if he was still bleeding? What if he died?

"Vee, you don't have to do this. It doesn't have to be this way."

I curled my lips back and snarled at him. "Save your platitudes."

Each step I took, took my closer to the water. Each step I took, Cain followed. "Stay back," I said. "You don't want to follow me here. Not here."

"You're too weak to do anything." Cain's dark brows pulled down low, his lashes shadowed his cheeks as he glanced down at the needle in his hands. "Just come with me. We can do this together. Together we'll make the greatest scientific breakthrough yet."