We paused at the top of a hill overlooking the scene: forty or fifty derelict ships, some bigger in sheer mass than the skyscrapers downtown.
Leviathan’s waves had slammed them all into the coastline, smashing them against one another and turning more than a few into something unrecognizable.
Oh look, they found a way to move the ships!
Even with Tattletale’s hint, I wasn’t sure I could have found where Cherish was lurking.
Which beached ship?
“How do we find her before she finds us?” I asked.
Oh, I’m sure she knows you’re coming already. But you need to stay out of her power’s range.
“We don’t. She knows where we are.”
I scanned the wreckage with my eyes. Would Siberian pop out? Hookwolf?
“They aren’t attacking.”
Did they leave already? I mean, Siberian is fast, and Cherish would be able to know where they are, like Lisa says, from the other side of town.
Tattletale shook her head, but she didn’t speak.
My bugs began searching for signs of life.
Maybe Cherish killed Siberian and/or Hookwolf, having planted the info about her whereabouts in order to draw them into her power’s range now that there weren’t too many of them to handle?
“You outrange her,” Tattletale spoke. “You detect them, you attack before she can whammy us.”
“Yeah.” Fat lot of good it’ll do with Siberian there.
I was getting a sense of why there wasn’t any foot traffic here. Even on land, the force of Leviathan’s tidal wave had sent age-worn sheets of metal flying over the landscape. Ragged edges of rusty sheet metal waited under every step I took, scraping and stabbing against the soles of my costumed feet.
“16… female… seeking any gender… like long walks on the beach with painful metal everywhere…”
Tattletale was relying on Bentley’s weight and durability to handle anything that waited underfoot. He was still panting hard from the run.
Looks like Atlas isn’t alone in needing rest.