Raging Sea (Undertow, #2)

“We’re going to stick together today and that’s how we’ll beat them, because our enemy may know how to do terrible things but it doesn’t feel like we do. It doesn’t know what it’s like to be part of a family. It doesn’t know that we will fight and die to protect one another.

“Stay close to one another and stay close to me. Keep your eyes out for those around you. Make sure that if they fall, you pick them up. And stay close to me,” I say as Chloe steps forward to take my hand. “I will keep my eye on each and every one of you. You are my family now, and in my family if you want to pick a fight with one of us, you have to fight us all.”

“We’re going to win because they have to fight us all,” Riley shouts.

When everyone is packed and ready, we head outside to the airstrip, where a plane is waiting for us. My father hobbles along, a reminder that he is still not one hundred percent, but standing tall, nonetheless.

Waiting for us are Terrance, Rochelle, and Samuel Lir. Gone is his wheelchair. Samuel has two walking canes now. He smiles at me, and I smile back, even though Bachman isn’t going to let him leave. The Lirs are too valuable to White Tower. I worry he will never escape this place. I promise myself that when this is done, I will come back and rescue everyone.

“He’s feeding himself,” Terrance says to me.

“It’s an amazing thing,” I say sincerely. “They’ll take him apart if they get the chance.”

He nods grimly. “Come back for us.”

Chloe joins me at the airstrip. She’s in a jumpsuit with her glove polished and a pack on her back.

“Where’s Mr. Fluffer?” I ask when I notice the bunny is not in her hands.

She smiles.

“I don’t need him anymore. I have you.”

“It’s cold in New York right now,” a guard shouts as he hands out hats and gloves. He gives everyone a jacket with the White Tower logo. It has an American flag patch on the shoulder and the words PROPERTY OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA stenciled on the back. “Put everything on, and keep it on.”

Bex stands next to me, holding my hand. Riley is nearby, waiting in his jumpsuit. His mother and father look bewildered. He holds his mother’s thin hand like it’s the only thing keeping her standing.

Calvin wheels Bachman into the crowd of children. Word spreads about her injuries, a fairy tale about how she was hurt fighting the Rusalka. They gape at her disfiguring scars. They can’t help themselves.

“All right, let’s do this,” Darren says. He stands by the steps to the plane and helps the children climb them, one by one. Riley’s father gives the guard a shove when the guard tries to help his wife. Darren’s eyes alight with fear from his strength. I smile. I like Riley’s dad a lot. I do the same to the toady when it’s time to get Dad on board, though I doubt my skinny arms give him much pause.

The inside of the plane is not what I was expecting. Whenever I’ve seen movies set on planes, there are flight attendants and overhead space and little trays for drinks. This plane is stripped down like it’s designed for flying packages more than people. My mother sits with my dad, and I take a seat behind them with Bex. Riley sits across the row from us and gives me a fist bump. It’s so corny, but I grin.

Bex shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

“Your next boyfriend can’t have fins,” she whispers.

“None of my boyfriends have ever had fins. Besides, I’m giving up on boys. It’s you and me, Conrad,” I tease. “If we survive, I’m thinking we move in together and be crazy cat ladies.”

“Deal.” She sighs.

Arcade boards, followed by Fathom. They are silent and pass us on their way to the back. She doesn’t look at me at all, and when he passes, my face burns and I look to the floor. I notice Riley watching, but he plays it cool and doesn’t say anything, even when I crane my neck to take a peek at them. Arcade finds a seat first and Fathom tries to sit next to her, but she shoots him a look and he’s smart enough to sit a few rows farther back.

Fathom closes his eyes and leans into his headrest. He looks nervous and lonely. Despite everything he has done, part of me wants to walk back there and hold his hand during takeoff, but a bigger part tells the first part that it’s stupid. Soon enough, both parts resume hating him.

Bex takes my hand when they close the airplane door.

“Have you ever been on a plane before?” she asks.

I laugh, remembering how cheaply we used to live back in Coney Island. A plane ride was much too fancy, and we never went anywhere on vacation anyway.

I shake my head.

“With our luck, this thing will crash,” she whispers.

“Oh, now, we’re not going to get that lucky,” I say when the engines rumble so loud, I can feel them in my legs. “We’ll get there. Coney Island is worse than a plane crash.”