Flight of the Gazebo

Chapter 20 - The Harsh Sea

The waves rose and fell; mountains became ravines in an endless cycle, lifting and dropping him as they rolled past. His head felt like a cork wobbling jauntily with each thrash of his legs to keep his mouth and nose above water. His teeth chattered in a frenzied staccato and his wide eyes flicked back and forth like he was watching caffeine junkies playing table tennis.

The spray lashed his face each time he was at the top of a wave, filling his eyes with water and blurring his vision so he couldn't see more than a bus-length away. His limbs were slowing as the cold seeped into him and his thoughts turned to slush.

Water sloshed into his mouth and he coughed it out. Which way had the ship gone? Perhaps he could catch up with it if he tried hard enough. Or maybe he could swim to land. But how far away was it? And in which direction?

Oh shit. It's no use. If it hadn't been for Voormama, I'd be on the boat with Nev right now. Maybe I should just let go. Let the sea take me.

His frustration boiled over. "Fuck you, Voormama!"

"Drome? Is that you?"

Am I hearing voices?

He shook the water from his ears.

"Hello?" he called. He twisted this way and that, searching every inch of the surrounding murk.

A wave lifted him and... There!

The jolly boat!

"Nev!"

"Drome!"

This time there was no mistaking the skeleton's voice.

"Nev!" he shouted again. "I'm over here!"

The water foamed around him as he paddled towards the boat. He screamed and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest when something bumped his legs.

A shadow glided away, turned, and there in the wave next to him was a blurred cigar shape, twice as long as he was tall. The tip of a fin, curved like a shark's but bristling with spikes, broke the surface as the wave rolled on.

His fatigue vanished. He whisked his arms back and forth, turning the water to froth, hoping to scare the creature off. "Nev! Over here! Help!"

The boat appeared through the haze. Nev's back was towards him, his neck twisted to look over his shoulder as he heaved on a pair of oars. He spotted Drome, pulled harder on the oar on one side and turned the boat towards Drome.

"I'm coming," shouted Nev.

Drome's entire body lurched as something brushed against his hip.

"Hurry up!" he shrieked.

Water swirled alongside him and the top of a sleek, black spiky fishtail showed briefly before slipping back underwater.

Drome churned the water with his frantic paddling, heading for the boat while jerking his head around, looking for fins.

Shit! This can't be happening!

With his imagination in overdrive, every lap of water against his face was a precursor of an attack. His stomach was in knots but he kept going and at last his hand whacked into the boat.

He lunged upwards and grabbed at the gunwale, but his timing was off and his hand just slapped the hull. Water poured into his mouth as he sank underwater.

Surrounded by bubbles, he gave a series of frenzied kicks and surfaced. A fin jutting out of the water was heading towards him as straight as an arrow.