Free Storming Paradise by Rik Hoskin Page A

single, protruding fin that stood proudly up from its back. He grabbed it, pulling himself up and behind the creature as it thrashed in place, trying to locate its attacker. Once atop the beast, Hercules wrapped his legs around its slithering torso, pressing tight. It was like riding a wild stallion—the Chimaera bucked and shifted, trying to lose its unwanted passenger.
    Once he was there, Hercules let go of the dorsal fin, drew both arms back and then—
    Slam!
    Hercules brought both fists down in a brutal blow, striking either side of the creature’s torso just beneath the dorsal fin. The creature lurched, a trembling spasm running through its body in the wake of that powerful blow.
    Hercules struck again, driving his mighty fists into the creature’s flanks, once, twice, thrice, even as the pressure on his lungs started to build. Below him, the Chimaera flipped and flopped, turning and turning in place as it tried to dislodge its attacker.
    Hercules kept up his assault, striking again and again, over and over. The beast quaked, another great spasm running through its whole body. His blows were having an effect, Hercules knew—but whether he was enraging the Sea Chimaera further or forcing it to rethink its attack, he could not tell. Thus, he kept pounding on the creature, driving punch after punch into the same two spots on its sides.
    Suddenly, the muffled light that Hercules could see beneath the surface grew brighter. A moment later, the creature cut the surface, leaping up in its writhing attempts to dislodge its attacker. Hercules took that moment to suck in a breath of desperately needed air, clinging tightly to the monster’s body by his strong leg muscles.
    The monster shook, rolling in the water to try to dislodge Hercules. Hercules reached for the dorsal fin, but his hand slipped and suddenly he was floundering in the water as that long expanse of slithering body hurried past beneath.
    An instant later, Hercules found himself adrift. He could no longer feel the beast beneath him, only the momentary pull of the current in the wake of its passage. The Sea Chimaera was gone.
    Hercules took a few moments just to catch his breath and to wait to see if the beast was planning to renew its attack. He ducked his head below the water, dived once, twice, three times, trying to locate the Sea Chimaera. But, there was no sign of it and, after a minute’s searching, Hercules was satisfied that it was gone.
    It took Hercules another three minutes to swim back to the boat, for the Sea Chimaera had taken them both so far from where it was drifting. Iolaus called out when he saw his partner cutting through the water, and leant over the side of the boat to give Hercules a hand up.
    Once he was back on board, Hercules asked about the boat’s captain. The man was a little shaken up, and his voice was hoarse from bringing up the salty seawater he had swallowed, but he was otherwise okay.
    â€œHow about you, buddy?” Iolaus asked.
    â€œWe still need to get to that island,” Hercules said, dismissing his friend’s concern. “Captain? Are you fit to sail?”
    The fisherman rocked uncertainly in place. “I will be,” he said, rubbing at his forehead. “Give me . . . a little . . . more time . . . to catch my . . . breath.”
    Hercules looked up at the sky, judging the passage of the moon. He estimated that it was less than two hours to sunrise, not long to find the correct island and locate the sinister street party. “I’ll work the sail,” he decided, “and Iolaus, you work the rudder.”
    Iolaus did not need any further coaxing; he simply trotted to the rear of the boat and placed both hands on the rudder while Hercules adjusted the sail to catch the wind. A moment later, the boat was moving again, clipping through the water towards the distant echo of music.
    The source of the music became clearer as the fishing boat got closer to the clustered