Every grain of salt in the air felt like a tiny, suspended weight, waiting for the first sound to trigger the collapse. The silence wasn't empty, it was loaded.
Kanka approached the edge of the gunwale chiming in, his voice cracking.
"They are approaching us in Camakau." He looked at his brothers, the realization hitting him like a concussive-stop. "We need to speed up whatever we have."
Tantei strained a serious look, a loud thread of urgency in his voice as he turned to Konto. "You heard him. Let's move, let's move, before we get caught!" He turned to the others frantically. "Go, go, go!"
The sudden command jolted the rest, and got them scrambling past the storage hatch with a frantic, hollow drumming of feet on the wood.
Kanka and Tambo threw their full weight against the Uli—the massive steering oar. The heavy wood groaned with a loud, dry creak—skree-clck—as it pushed against the black water.
Konto's arms shook from the strain. His muscles were tight as ropes. He gestured to Tambo. "Tolu, help me out!"
Tolu threw herself at the network of ropes. Her hands hit the heavy timber spar with a wet thud-slap.
Together, they hauled the sheet line. The thick rope made a gritty, grinding sound as it slid through the wooden blocks.
The immense pandanus sail sheeted out violently, catching a massive, sudden gust of wind.
—WHUMP—
The sound was a deep, hollow boom that briefly silenced the waves and the shouts on the shore. It shook the entire boat.
The entire Drua lurched forward—hard, nearly pitching Tantei who was just grabbing the sheet lines. His feet made a fast, drumming sound on the wooden deck as he scrambled to stay upright.
Tambo and the others threw their entire body weight against the control lines.
The heavy, thick coir rope burned through the grime and water on their palms with a dry, scratching feel, but they didn't let go.
Tambo shouted a desperate, raw yell of exertion—a pure cry of stress. "HNUUU-RRRGH!" He pulled to bring the sheet in tight, forcing the boat to catch the wind and gain an immediate burst of speed.
The boat responded grudgingly. It began to move—a shuffling hiss, then picked up speed as the wind filled the great, curved sail.
Tolu yelled, her brown hair whipping dramatically at the back of her head as she looked behind her. The Camakau were ruthlessly closing in with the men yelling in predatory snarls.
"Oh my—they have arrows. Guys, they have arrows! What are we gonna do? What are we gonna do?! We can't die like this!!"
Her breath was a short, jagged gasping—hnn-ssst, hnn-ssst—like she wanted to pass out.
Tantei tapped Tolu on the back of the shoulder with a solid thud. "Tolu!"
Tolu turned around. "What?!"
Tantei looked behind him as the Camakau were closing in ruthlessly. His eyes were hard and focused.
"Calm down, We will handle this! Don't panic!"
The two Bati vessels were closing fast, one on the left and one on the right, their sails snapped like cannon fire above the roared waves.
Tambo's eyes was wide with terror, his heart drummed loudly and frantically against his chest. "Sobo."
The lead Bati warrior, his bronze-Tan face and body daubed in red ochre, stood rigid on the right flank and yelled his demands across the gap. His heavy voice boomed through the wind and waves.
"Slow down right now! Return to the island immediatly! This is your final warning."
Kanka's face was covered in a mask of pure terror. His eyes were wide, and his loose, red braids flew wildly around his head as he saw them approach. Slowly, the terror on his face tightened into a mask of desperate resolve.
"Guys! We have to stop. This is our only chance to lose them."
Tambo: Stop?! You know what will happen if we do!
Konto: If we stop now while at this speed, the sudden momentum freeze will just jam us overboard!
Kanka's face underwent a tight stress. "I know, but i have a plan. You just need to trust me when i say stop, but we do it slowly."
Another Bati's voice cut through Tantei's despair: "Didn't you hear what he said?!"
Konto screamed over the noise, his voice laced with dread and guilt. "I think they're right, We have to turn back! They don't look pleased. I don't want to go on their badside!"
Kanka yelled back at him, shaking his head violently. "No! We have to keep moving! I got a plan, but you gotta trust me, please trust me!"
A third Bati voice boomed from the vessel on the left, harsh and metallic. "Make your choice quickly or we will shoot!"
Tambo, momentarily shrugged off the fear, yelling instantly, his voice deep and solid. "Alright! We are with you. Just give us the cue!"
The lead Bati shouted again, his voice now laced with fury and command. "Hey! Hey! Look at me when I'm talking to you!"
The brothers gave a shared nod.
Konto closed his eyes tightly, shoulders shuddering.
Kanka threw himself onto the sail lines.
The brothers, now acted as one unit, didn't stop. They increased their speed, plunging deeper into the dark, trackless ocean.
Kanka shouted to the others, his voice strained but firm, coordinating the precise, moment of the plan. "One! Two! Three!, now!"
This synchronized was accompanied by the lead Bati's final shout: "Don't do anything stupid!"
All slacked the sheet lines slowly, stalling the sail and wind pressure. The heavy fabric let out an immense thrashing and ripping—flap-flap-snap—as the power died.
They lurched forward with a deep grunt, but held the sheets tightly.
Simultaneously, Konto and Tambo kept the rudder straight and centered. Their hands trembling, they quickly feathered the blade, tilting the steering oar just enough to create drag without flipping the boat.
The Drua dropped its roar to a silent, ghostly glide.
The lead warrior's jaw tightened. "Loosen!"
The men on the pursuing vessels pulled their arms back in a single, fluid motion.
The wood of the bows groaned—a high-tension strain that sounded like a tree limb about to snap.
One warrior stood out, his cheek pressed tight against the cord, his dark eyes fixed in a piercing focus of assured violence.
As he leaned into the shot, the bowstring emitted a thin, singing hum, vibrating with the stored energy of the pull.
Kanka's red dreads lashed around his face like a nest of angry snakes as the Drua struggled to pull away.
His eyes were blown wide, tracking the bullseye focus of the man across the gap.
The horror wasn't just in the weapon, but in the absolute stillness of the warrior's aim amidst the roaring chaos of the waves.
The world seemed to hang in a shuddering pause, the wind, the shouts, and the splashing water all falling away, leaving only the sound of that single, vibrating string.