watching the show,” Bren snarls. “This is some PT Barnum freak show, Emme. We’re getting out of here, now. Guardian of the Earth or not, I draw the line at this bullshit. Christ, I thought you were dead.”
He reaches for me, only to freeze when my eyes sting. I specifically told myself I wouldn’t cry, except here I am. With Bren this close, with him being exactly how he is, protective, mouthy, and fierce, it’s like I can cry, I can release those feelings I pushed aside.
He’s right. I almost died. Somehow, I lived and now he’s with me.
Fear replaces the anger sharpening his features. “Jesus,” he says, clutching me against
him. “That thing, it hurt you, didn’t it?”
All I can do is nod.
Bren stiffens. “How bad?”
I release a breath. “Pretty bad,” I admit.
I wipe away my tears and look up at him. “There’s a lot you need to know, and we don’t
have much time. That thing that grabbed me, she’s still out there and she’s coming for all of us.”
Fury shadows his face. “All right,” he says. “Let’s talk.”
He takes my hand and leads me as far away from Farrah and Gerald as we can manage. It’s hard to find a place to stand. In the short time that’s passed, the pool has expanded significantly and there’s not much left of the beach.
I speak fast, telling Bren all I know, including my plan.
“I don’t know about this, Em,” Bren mutters. “I say we ditch the fugly mutants and find a way out on our own.” He winks at Merche when she looks up at him. “How’s it going, fuzz face?”
Merche wrinkles her nose at him, her whiskers all a flutter. “I think she’ll prefer it if you call her Merche,” I tell him.
Bren grimaces when Gerald steps away from Farrah and Merche throws off her cloak and scrambles to him. Merche exposes her neck, offering herself eagerly. I expect jealousy from Farrah but she barely notices. She throws herself into the pool and starts doing laps, eager to cool her flushed skin.
Drops of Tahoe’s water land on my head. A new pinhole has formed in the ceiling.
“Damn it,” Bren mutters. “This whole place is coming undone.”
He lifts me and places me on an incline where the sand is less moist. It’s strange. He could have just asked me to move. He didn’t have to touch or move me as he did.
“Bren, I realize your hesitant to align with the others and that you’re anxious to leave. I am, too,” I whisper. “But I’m not certain we can find our way out without some help and I’m less certain we can take Una on without them.”
Bren rubs his jaw, considering our choices. “Em, all this is not what I expected,” he says. “Except while I don’t trust them, I do trust you. We’ll try it your way.”
“Flounder,” he calls. “Hey. Flounder.”
“It’s Farrah,” I say, speaking low.
Farrah stops swimming. Her body remains very much post-coitus red despite the non-intercourse and despite the cold water. “You talkin’ to me?” she asks.
“You got it, fish face.”
“Bren,” I admonish. “That’s awful.”
He throws out a hand. “Come on, Em. It’s not like this gal doesn’t know she has gills.” He looks at Farrah. “You do know about the gills, right, Nemo?”
If fish could freeze someone with one look, Bren would be a popsicle. “Yes, wolf,” she snaps.
Bren continues, unaffected by the dirty looks and the way her googly eyes spin with annoyance. “If this bubble pops, or if my girl Emme here finds herself under water, you’re in charge of getting her to safety.” He points at her. “That means land. She can’t swim and if she drowns, you’re the one I’m coming after.”
“I don’t respond well to threats,” Farrah fires back.
A sense of ire encompasses Bren, warming the frigid air encasing us. He takes a step forward. Farrah stumbles away from Bren and all but scales the wall. “It’s not a threat, Dory. It’s a promise. You got yourself into this shit. You will get the person helping you out of it.”
Farrah nods, or at least tries to. Farrah doesn’t really have a neck.
Bren returns to his place at my side, rolling his eyes when Gerald and Merche resume their very audible exchange. “Damn. It’s like tuning into some twisted Discovery channel documentary. You sure they’re not fucking?”
I glance around Bren’s super-sized body. All of Merche’s limbs are flailing as Gerald sucks and pulls at the skin along her throat. “No, just feeding.” I tilt