Boy X by Dan Smith

Author:Dan Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chicken House

18 hrs and 14 mins until Shut-Down

The cradle dropped away, tipping to one side and spilling them out. Ten metres below the snapped line, it struck the water and whisked away in the current. A fraction of a second later, Ash hit the surface and went under in a rush of bubbles. He started tumbling as soon as the river had him. He saw sky, water, sky again. He caught glimpses of the bank, followed by nothing but bubbles. A flash of blue sky, a snatch of someone running out onto the pebbles.

Is that Thorn?

Water again.

The figure on the shore. A slender man, running along the bank.

Then nothing but water, filling his mouth. Rushing in his ears. Adding weight to his clothes. The might of it was all around him, rolling him over and over, scraping him along the stony bed. He was thrown up into the main current, then forced back down again, jarring against boulders like he was a toy.

Need to breathe.

He could do this.

With a surge of energy, Ash kicked out again and again until his feet came into contact with the riverbed. As soon as he felt it beneath him, he pushed away, shooting upwards, breaking the surface and taking a great gulp of air.

A few metres ahead, a black crag rose from the centre of the course, armed with brutal corners and sharp edges. It didn’t matter that Ash was stronger and quicker than before – the rock would smash him to pieces just the same. At first the water clung to him, its frothing fingers refusing to let him go as it steered him towards the rock, but he fought hard to break free. As one part of the river released him, allowing another to take him, he skirted past the deadly rock, missing it by an arm’s length, bringing him closer to the cradle that was buffeting just out of reach in the thick of the current.

The depths sucked at his legs, trying to drag him deeper. The surface pummelled him, threatening to push him down or break him against the rocks, but he had to get to that cradle. It was his only hope.

As soon as the wooden platform was within reach, Ash boosted towards it, fingernails raking along the boards. Splinters needled his skin as the river wrestled to tear it from his grip. The river rushed in his face, sloshing into his mouth, trying to steal his breath, but he finally heaved himself aboard.

Ash clung to the ropes that were now wrapped around it, and pulled himself up, lifting his head to search the river.

‘Isabel!’ He could hardly hear his own voice over the sound of the water. ‘Isabel!’

He watched the river, frantically looking for a sign. A flash of colour, a shape in the water.

There. Right in front of him. Something was waggling through one of the slats in the platform. Ash stared, trying to figure out what it was. Then, with a sickening sense of dread, it dawned on him.

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