“I’m taking Linc, and we’re leaving.”
Her father laughed, a bark of disbelief. “What?”
“This is wrong. You can’t experiment on a human being!”
“Edythe, you don’t understand, sweetheart. He’s not human. It doesn’t hurt him. He’s not like us. Now go upstairs, and I’ll take care of this.”
She wondered how her father could look the same as he always looked, sound the same as he always sounded, yet be so wrong. Her father was bad. Hurting Linc the way he did? There was no reason good enough for it.
“He’s a person, even if he’s not human.”
Her father stepped forward, his eyes flashing. He glared over her head at Linc before turning his back on them and moving to his worktable. She looked nervously at her friend, who kept his eyes on her father. He tried to move in front of her, but she dragged her feet. He weakened with every passing second, so he couldn’t force her to move. He stumbled, and she used the space to her advantage. With a strength that surprised her, she grabbed the bucket of salt water and swung it. It hit her father in the back, and he flew forward, his head bouncing off the wooden workbench. A red bloom appeared on the wood, dripping like a stem down the side of the bench as he fell toward the floor.
What have you done?
“Come on!” In that moment, she didn’t care about her father. He wanted to hurt Linc, and she wouldn’t let him. She didn’t know why, but she had to save him; he had to be free.
Surprisingly, after all of his arguing, he let her pull him away. He stared at her in disbelief. She ran to the steps, dragging him behind her. Her wrist screamed in pain, but she held onto him tightly, refusing to let go in case he tried to return.
They stood for a moment in her backyard. She saw Linc close his eyes and then open them, staring up at the sky like he’d never seen it before.
Never expected to see it again, she heard him say.
The night was quiet. Her parents’ bedroom was dark, her mother sleeping through the terror her father caused. It occurred to her to ask her mother for help, but then she dismissed it. Linc was hers to protect. Her responsibility.
She heard the ocean. It seemed louder. She could almost feel the waves crashing against the beach, pushing at the sand and edging closer and closer to the dunes and the marshes that separated the ocean from her home.
They couldn’t wait any longer. This was their chance for escape. Somehow, Edythe knew if she ran, Linc would follow her.
So she did. She ran as fast as she could, hiking her nightgown above her legs, pumping her arms, sprinting toward the marshes.
Edie! Linc’s voice echoed in her mind, but she didn’t look back. She ran across the lawn, into the tall grass. It whipped at her face, stinging her skin. She could feel her toes sinking into the wet earth, digging into it like it could propel her forward faster.
There was a crash behind her and a grunt. She knew Linc was still weak, but he had to move. The grass got longer and thicker, and her feet began to sink into the ground. Soon she wasn’t running, she was wading through muck. She pushed aside cordgrass, but it tangled around her feet, and she fell into the brackish water. Arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her up.
When she turned to look at Linc, she sucked in a breath. In the moonlight, his scales were iridescent. They shimmered, reflecting both the moon and the colors around him. As he stepped closer to her, a cloud covered the moon, and he appeared as black as the water at their feet.
They stared at each other until he touched her face. I’ll find you again.
Edythe shook her head and couldn’t miss the look of hurt that crossed his face. “No. You need to stay far away from me. Don’t get caught. Go somewhere safe.”
I stay where you are.
“Edythe!”
They both turned. The moon peeked from behind the cloud, illuminating the marsh. She saw her father, his face dark with rage, wading through the water.
“Go!” she cried, pushing at him, but he didn’t move. He stood tall and proud. She hadn’t realized before, but he looked stronger. His scales looked healthy, and even the exposed skin on his face looked better.
This was where he belonged, and here he stood on equal ground with her father, who looked like a sodden, desperate, mad scientist. “Edythe, move away from him. He’s dangerous.”
Linc lifted his lip. His teeth were not the even, white teeth he’d flashed at Edythe in rare moments when he smiled. They were sharp and pointed, deadly.
“Come.” Her father slowly lifted a gun, pointing it at Linc. “He has to come back, Edythe. You’ll understand someday.”
Linc made a sound, something between a hiss and a growl. Everything in Edythe wanted to run away, but she made herself stay. Her feet sank into the mud, and she shivered. “You go. He’s not coming back.”
“Edythe, listen to me.”