Free The Reef by Mark Charan Newton

his hand on the stocky back of the rumel, smiling, always smiling.
    ‘I saw it right. I fucking saw it with my eyes-two goodens-so just you shut the fuck up, ‘cos no ghoul ain’t gonna stop anyone from being dragged underwater.’
    ‘I didn’t see anything that time, nothing,’ Yale said. It could’ve been the tides or anything that caused them to drown. And it was night time. When we took a submersible down, we didn’t see anything that could’ve done what you say. There was nothing. Nothing but the reef.’
    ‘No, you didn’t fucking see anything,’ Menz said. ‘You didn’t see his eyes when they went under, did you? You were on the other side, making your bloody notes. I was there, I watched all three of them go under-all good, strong, men they were-and you didn’t see it. Didn’t see the blood shootin’ up nor the fright in those eyes. Ain’t no ghoul gonna stop that.’
    The wind picked up. A pterodette croaked from above. The reptile was gliding on a thermal with its vein-filled wings stretched out wide. It curved down over their heads before it arced to the north.
    Jella broke the silence. ‘We’ve no choice but to have some faith. Come on guys, all any of us have left is the plan. Think about all your relatives that died in Lucher, all those years ago. Think about them, choking, coughing up blood, vomiting, dying in their own excrement, withering away to nothingness, no dignity and with no justice. Think about losing everything, being shipped out of a city to live in a tin can surrounded by filth and shit and think about getting one back for them and then worry about trust.
    ‘The Qe Falta can help us, sure they might be weird and sure, we might not know what creature we’re actually dealing with, Arrahd may not have designed such a creature, but they can help us get one back for our families and loved ones.’
    All of them nodded. Lula aired her shirt.
    Jella said, ‘We can head towards caves tonight. There’re some about a two hours ride south then tomorrow we can head towards where the Qe Falta might be. They’ll help us. They’re known terrorists after all.’
    She walked away from this, regarded the landscape to clear her mind. There was only ground and sky. Where the two met, the horizon wobbled. Beyond that there were only things that her imagination might make up so she shook her head and looked at the trees. The spindly branches and palms seemed to ache in desperation to suck water up. She felt her face gathering sweat and she wiped her brow, tied her hair back. She glanced again at the strange sculpture, the buried wing, and through its frame she could see a small plume on the horizon, where a yellow cloud extended upwards into the endlessly blue sky.
    They were being followed.

Nine

    They travelled through the centre of the desert for twelve days before Jella saw the boat.
    Up until that point, everywhere that she looked she saw bright sand and blue sky at every point along the horizon. There was an intense loneliness about the desert that was welcoming to her. It meant no one was around to disrupt her thoughts, her focussed anger.
    Sometimes she pointed out scrub plants to the others. Occasionally she pointed to things that disappeared, which were never really near anyway. The horses were tired and the group was almost out of provisions. Two days ago Jella had pointed out the Lo Gurate hills in the distance, which looked like low, blue rippled clouds.
    They sat on horseback, wrapped in cloaks to stop the penetrating heat, were staring at a boat that was in the sand. Jella could guess how large it was because, as they approached it, it increased in size almost at the same rate as the hills in the background, which were some hours away. The group dismounted, stood by the horses.
    ‘What is it, that thing?’ Lula asked.
    ‘The Aarc,’ Jella said. ‘It’s where the Qe Falta live.’
    ‘Ghouls,’ Menz said. His face darkened.
    ‘They live there?’ Lula asked. ‘How do you