Pushing herself away from them, away from death, Thea closed her eyes momentarily, leaning her head back against the desk. Almost immediately the black sucked her up and, even though she knew she should be making a grab for that device Moses had thrown aside, even though she had no idea what Moses would do next and Kyle was probably on his way, she allowed the darkness in because it was soft and soothing and she only needed a moment of it, sailing gently on it like it was …

Chapter 47

… the sea. She was in a little boat on the sea. The waves were choppy, spitting at her as they slapped at the boat’s sides but then her mother was going too fast, wasn’t she?

There she was, her mother, at the back of the boat, a firm grip on the tiller, her vagina-printed scarf fluttering out behind her, her grey hair slicked back against her skull by the force of the wind. Thea should tell her that she was going too fast. They couldn’t bounce and jar over these waves at this speed – they’d capsize and then what would happen to the owls?

There were owls in the bottom of the boat.

Baby owls, owlets, full of fluff with tiny sharp beaks pointing through. Their heart-shaped faces and worried-looking eyes made them seem like wizened, fluffy, old men. They hopped and jostled amongst each other and Thea tried not to step on them though they squeaked when, accidentally, she did. It was unnerving. All the owls had to make it to the other side. It was important. Some kept trying to hop over the side of the boat and Thea had to gently knock them back down. They nipped her fingers.

‘Do you think they’re in a cult?’ her mother yelled to her from behind.

Were the owls in a cult? She wasn’t sure.

‘Because I want to try golf and they keep stealing the golf balls,’ her mother shouted.

The owlet closest to her foot had a golf ball on its head, balancing it there like it was playing keepy-uppy.

Thea decided to go and tell her mother to slow down. She tried to get up, but her feet were stuck amid the owlets.

‘You should kick them out of the way,’ Ethan said. He was sitting on the opposite bench to her, his arms folded. There was an owlet on each shoulder, their faces turned into the wind, fluff ruffling. He frowned.

Once again, Thea tried to raise her foot but the owlets were too heavy. They screeched and pecked her ankles, nodding and bobbing to each other as if they were complaining amongst themselves.

‘Or kill ’em. Throw them overboard.’ Another two owlets hopped onto his knees, flaring stubby wings as they tried to find their balance.

She couldn’t kill them!

They all had to make it to the other side.

‘Mother!’ she yelled, her voice trembling.