Free Surviving the Improbable Quest by Anderson Atlas Page B

it grabs a bulging bag with tools and sharp things poking from the top and leaps from the boat. It whistles a strange, high-pitched tune while heading back toward the building where Allan had first seen it.
    Allan lifts himself out of the water and carefully rolls into the boat. With some effort, he situates himself in the middle, grabs the oars, and starts to row. The boat moves away from the edge and floats into the center of the canal.
     

     
    The boat rocks, but is stable. It makes Allan smile. He loves boats. He’d read about sailboats called galleons or privateers. They were huge ships with a dozen sails and deadly cannons. He read about pirates like Black Beard and Henry Morgan as they’d plundered the Caribbean ports. It was Uncle Rubic who gave him his first metal sword. Allan didn’t put the thing down for months. Only after he’d nearly impaled his grandmother’s dog was the sword retired to hang on the wall.
    It’s a good memory and only vanishes from his mind when he hears talking. The farther he gets into town the more creatures and people he sees. Yes, people. Actual humans. Though they’re wearing strange clothing, they’re less strange than the furry or feathery things.
    Allan remembers Asantia and her large knife. Just because they are humans doesn’t make them any less dangerous.
    A small creature, as naked as a hairless cat, sits on the side of the river. It’s fat, like a stumpy old man, but has only one large eye. The ugly thing picks up a long and twisted pole and casts a hook into the water. Two small fangs hang out the side of its wide mouth. The creature stares and blinks slowly as Allan passes. It only takes a moment for Allan to realize how strange his clothing must look to these people. He is dressed in jeans and an orange t-shirt with bright sweeping designs and video game characters on the front. Until he changes his clothes he’ll be a target. So Allan stops the boat under the next bridge and puts on the jacket and worn top hat that were left in the boat. They’re stained and stiff, but they’ll keep him incognito. The jacket pulls on the pin-up girl Rubic pinned to his shirt. He doesn’t want to lose it so he unpins the girl and tucks her into his pocket.
    Allan begins rowing again. The boat moves and, thankfully, no one pays him any attention. He relaxes while he rows, the oars moving in slow sweeping circles. The city is dense and people are busy. Strange trees and mossy growths are everywhere. The trees have sharp leaves and spines on their trunks. Great. Even the trees suck around here. It also smells musty. Some buildings belch black smoke from chimney pipes, which add an acrid taste to the thick air. Another boat passes, piloted by a longhaired thing that has the face of a fox. There’s lipstick on her snout lips and her eyelashes flutter.
    “Watch your bow!” the fox yells, her voice high-pitched but gravelly like a witch. “Where’d you learn to steer?”
    Allan stops staring and corrects his course. “Arrrr, eat my paddle.” he yells in his best pirate voice. The fox-lady ignores him and continues on her way. Allan smiles at his attempt at bravado then realizes he could eat his own paddle he’s so hungry. His big guts are eating his little guts, and there doesn’t seem anywhere to get food. Even if his disguise helps him blend in he has no money or idea what to eat. He doubts he could get some scrambled eggs and bacon. Allan notices the half eaten sandwich on the box in the front of the boat. It looks strange. The bread is tan and covered with dark veins. The red insides might be a jelly. It might be guts. Allan remembers how the guard-bird tore apart the rodent like a zombie tears at fresh meat.
    As he rows he can’t stop looking at the sandwich. Hunger finally wins. He steers the boat to the side and lets it bump the edge. He scoots to the sandwich and grabs it. After shutting his eyes he crams it into his mouth.
    Sweet. And the bread is crispy like a