Young Writers Society

I know I've been posting in three-chapter increments, but these were both a little long so I thought that I would post now. And if you haven't read the first three parts, I recommend you go and read them before this... it would help.

CHAPTER TEN
The following twenty-nine hours were the longest in Esti’s life. She had exhausted her small supply of food while continuously wondering why her captors hadn’t emptied her backpack when they’d snatched her from Houston. The ship had been creaking and groaning around her all night, making it impossible to sleep. And to stay away from the crew, who passed just often enough to keep her on hair-trigger, she had holed up in a storage closet about the size of a porthole. All night her back had been pressed against the steel hull, and she was beginning to think that taking out the crew wasn’t going to be her biggest problem. That would be simply standing up.
But ever so slowly the announcements over the ship’s intercom had inched toward the thirty-hour mark, and she could feel the early morning sun beginning to heat up the metal behind her.
“One hour to docking. All crew return to your positions.”
“Finally.” Esti muttered. Still, before she opened the door she listened for any crewmen passing by. It would be both very annoying and anticlimactic to be caught this early in the show.
Finally though she could hear nothing more outside, and slowly began to inch the door open. However as soon as she tried to move her back let loose a flare of pain, and she gritted her teeth.
Better get this over with. She thought, and jerked herself up.
“Arg…” She bit back a curse as her vertebrae grated against each other, trying to adapt back to their normal position after being cramped in a closet for close to thirty hours. Still wincing as the pain began to abate, Esti slowly slipped down the hallway toward the ladder at the far end which led up to the deck. However she had a sudden idea, and quickly pulled out one of the explosives, checking the fine print on the back of the detonator. Her eyes immediately found the text she was looking for: Operable at distances up to five-hundred yards. Signal penetrates all metal, even lead, and breaks through most low-grade radio jammers.
This might just work. She licked her lips and turned back around, toward a door marked simply with an arrow pointing down. It slid open effortlessly, and she could tell that this was the one door that was continually oiled. Below it, she was sure, would be the engine room.

Roughly twenty minutes later Esti emerged from the door missing three of the explosives. They were all sitting about fifty feet below, jammed into cracks in the engine. With luck, she thought, they might even sink the ship.
“Thirty minutes until docking!” The intercom shouted again. “All crewmen to their stations!”
Esti smiled softly and walked back over to the ladder. However just as she was about to start climbing she suddenly remembered the other cages. All five of them held captives. And if the ship did sink the hold would be the first thing to go under.
How much time do I have? Esti grimaced.
“Twenty-five minutes!” The intercom answered.
That was nowhere near enough to break the cages with the Froster. Her only hope would be if she could find a key…
Face it Esti. An angry voice spoke up in a corner of her mind. It’s either them or you. Take it or leave it. It’s not that hard.
She had never been indecisive before in her life, and caught halfway up the ladder this was a completely new experience for her. Esti had never held someone’s life in her hands before, much less five, and she was suddenly reminded of how young she really was.
“Twenty-three minutes! All crew report NOW!” The intercom blared obtrusively. In that moment Esti began to climb, quashing any mental protest. Survival instinct had taken over.

About five minutes later she emerged from the labyrinth of ladders and passages and onto the deck of the ship, for the first time realizing how massive it really was. The ancient freighter’s deck was large enough to land a small plane on, and coated in grease and hundreds of crates of cargo.
What exactly are they transporting? Esti wondered for a moment, leaning on the side of a wooden one standing next to the hatch, trying to get a good view at the back of the ship. A moment later she found her answer, as the soaked and rotted wood collapsed behind her releasing a spew of beer.
Figures.
She didn’t worry about it; the pounding rain would wash it off soon enough. She was more worried about reaching the wheelhouse unseen, though right now that didn’t seem such a daunting task. For a ship this large it seemed hugely undermanned, and the only sailors she could see were holding on for dear life.
Sailors? She thought, a slight chuckle escaping her throat. And they’ve never been in a storm before.
Then, as soon as she took her first step out of the shelter of the hatch, a monstrous wave crashed into the starboard side of the ship. Her feet blew out from under her and Esti went skidding down the oily deck.
Remember, oil and water don’t mix! Abraham’s voice whispered in her head.
Nice time for that lesson dad. Esti thought, remarkably calmly for a person about to be tossed into the sea. She had seen a loose rope by the side of the ship while she’d been scanning the deck, and a plan had already formulated in her mind.
Here it comes. She thought grimly yet excitedly, the adrenaline flooding her system a feeling she wholeheartedly enjoyed. One, two-
Her hands flashed up like striking vipers and clasped the hanging rope just as she was about to fly over the edge. There was a single moment of dread as she wondered if the rope would go taut or fall flat, and then a flood of relief as it snapped straight in her hands. Through the blinding rain she saw the ship receding and the ocean frothing below her in a thousand hungry whirlpools. Esti was weightless, swinging over a vast void on a fraying rope with absolutely nothing to save her if she fell.
And she was loving every second of it.

In the wheelhouse Caius angrily smashed the off button, both breaking it and silencing the intercom for good. If they hadn’t reported to the wheelhouse by now, well, they were as good as dead in that storm. Still, as always, the Dutchman would ride it out. He could see the skyline of Philadelphia; a faint silhouette the drenched horizon growing painstakingly nearer with each passing minute. In fact, he was concentrating so intently on the skyline that he failed to notice the spectral form flying over the ocean to his left. Later he would wonder how he missed it.

Esti landed catlike on the deck outside the steps leading up to the wheelhouse, the rope sweeping harmlessly away over through the rain. She took each step one at a time, grasping the railing as forcefully as she could. Still she slipped at least five times before making it to the third step, the wind doing its level best to knock her into the roiling waves. Somehow though, she did make it to the top, and once she did all that stood in her way were the five yards of open deck to the wheelhouse door.
But she wasn’t ready yet. There was one more thing to do.

The Dutchman was hardly a minute away from Philadelphia when Caius heard a colossal bang echo through the bowels of the ship. The floor below him shook with the reverberations of the explosion, and after a few seconds of sputtering the immense freighter stopped dead in its tracks. For a moment he just stood in place, staring at the dashboard before him where there had, two seconds before, been a panel of flashing lights. Now each and every one was extinguished. Only a massive engine failure could have caused something like this-

Esti felt the explosion ricochet throughout the ship less than a second after she detonated the bombs, and a few seconds later what had been a dull growl petered out to a reedy whine, then into complete silence. The engine had died. The ship was stranded. It was time.
She took the last few yards to the wheelhouse at a dash, opting for the theory that sheer speed would overcome slipperiness. Oddly enough it did, and she grabbed the door without so much as a single slide. She waited a single second before yanking it open, and immediately fired straight into the room beyond.

Caius felt the bullet pierce his right leg with a sort of strange disbelief. The last few seconds had happened too quickly for him to comprehend, and the searing pain cascading up and down his spinal cord did nothing for his comprehension. Unaware of just how badly he was injured, the stocky crime lord attempted to turn around and immediately crumpled to the deck. The last thing he saw was his assailant, and for a moment he just stared in shock. It was a girl! A freaking teenage girl! She was standing there in the open doorway, looking windswept and weather-beaten and just as shocked as him, one of his standard-issue Magnums held loosely in her hand. Her index finger was still frozen on the trigger, smoke still curling lackadaisically up from the silver barrel. Her other hand held one of his RC explosives, no doubt the same thing that had just fried the engine. And slowly through the dark mists of unconsciousness he saw the finger unwind from the trigger, the gun slowly fall from the slackened hand. It took a million seconds to fall and only one to be swept into the sea by the wind and rain. And a second after that the girl had followed it into the storm, dissolving into the pounding water as if she had never existed.

Esti felt herself falling toward the sea, her body mechanically forming itself into an arrowlike point. She entered the water splash-lessly, soundlessly, painlessly. All feeling had left her body. Silently, brokenly, she slipped back up to the surface under the shadow of the ship, drifting uncaringly over the eddies and waves. The darkness was closing in and she didn’t care. The only thing she could see was that slow-motion image of the man she had shot falling to the ground in pain, clutching at what had, less than a second before, been a fully functional leg. Her bullet had reduced it to a mass of blood and flesh, a gaping hole torn in the fabric of her existence. She had done that. She had ripped that gash into that living flesh. She had torn it apart.
It’s cold. She thought distantly, no longer caring about anything that had once, for some reason or other, seemed important. Her father. Her world. Her life. There was nothing left to care about.
It’s so cold. So, so cold. 

CHAPTER ELEVEN
The creaky elevator slowly descended through Big Ben, Philip sitting against the wall, his eyes closed in thought. There was an obvious way to enforce a mass evacuation and make it look like a rebellion. A massive fire would take care of all of their needs. The city would be obliterated. People would be running for the countryside. Judas’s Exterminators would swoop in and blast away the smoking remainder into the wind. It would work like clockwork. But why was he so reluctant?
People will die in the fire. You know that. There needs to be another way.
They’ll die anyway if we can’t do something.
The elevator jerked to a halt and Philip slowly stood, clacking his cane on the ground before him, once again in character of the old man on the street. As he walked his mind continued to battle, but he always knew what the conclusion would be.
The fire is the only way. If enough people are warned most will escape.
No. There is another way.
There is no other way to make this look like a rebellion. It needs to be convincing. And to be convincing there must be a loss of life.
When did you become so mechanical?
There is no other way.
You have twelve hours. Think of one!
He stopped on the sidewalk, looking up at the sky. It was a clear, brilliant blue, the summer sun its glistening centerpiece. And suddenly he knew. Double negatives cancel out. There would be a fire. And then there would be a flood.

Xavier slowly regained consciousness, and judging by the encroaching darkness outside he had lain on the floor through the day. Immediately he peered around the room, searching for something different than before, trying to justify the intense paranoia that had overcome him before.
But there was nothing.
It was simply a brick room. The brick was new, but there were thousands of possible explanations for that. The door locked auto-matically, but there were also thousands of explanations for that. The-
Suddenly there was a subtle click behind him and Xavier, on hair-trigger, spun around with his fists raised. However the man who walked into the small room was hardly worth the trouble. He looked to be older than fifty, and in his right hand he held a wooden cane stylized with an owl.
“Who the hell are you?” Xavier asked defensively, cautiously lowering his fists.
“I should ask you the same question.” Philip said calmly, staring carefully back. The government had used child spies before, but this one didn’t fit the bill. He was skinny, malnourished and shorter than he should have been, his skin pale and stretched tightly over his narrow face. And there was a strange quality emanating from his beetle-black eyes, a strange sparkle that could have been wonder, vitality, or a sprinkle of both.
“I asked first.”
“I’m older.”
Xavier continued to glare suspiciously, the defensive-child side of him making an appearance. “I’m stronger.”
“I doubt that.” Philip waggled his free hand. “See, I have a cane.”
“I’m quicker.”
“Fine. Now tell me why you’re in the river-house.” Philip asked, beginning to tap the ground impatiently, his cane making a sharp clack against the stone.
“Wha…?” Xavier looked quizzically around. “River house?”
Philip rolled his eyes angrily. “What the hell are you doing in here kid!”
“The door locked behind me!” Xavier protested, his voice taking the high pitch of a child. “I had no idea what this place is! I tried to get out, I really did!”
Philip raised his eyebrows, studying the strange case before him. “I’m not sure if I should believe you.” He began. “But by the fact that you don’t look like a spy tells me I should.”
“A spy…?” Xavier asked, flabbergasted. “What the…”
“Look kid, just bear with me.” Philip began, walking over to the far wall where the room’s only other piece of furniture, a copper ship’s wheel, stood. “I don’t have much time. This room was built to control the flooding of the Thames, probably made originally by the government for crowd control.”
“Sick.”
“I agree completely.” Philip replied, almost smiling at Xavier’s disgusted innocence. “But now it works to our advantage.”
“Who is our?” Xavier asked acutely.
“You’re sharper than you seem.” Philip said. “I will explain it all soon.” Even though I have no idea who you are or whether I should take you with me. “But very soon, in roughly ten minutes time, a fake rebellion will be staged in the streets of London.”
“Why?” Xavier was curious now, once again with the voice of a small child.
“London is set to be exterminated. To only way to evacuate in time is to stage this rebellion as a smokescreen.” Philip explained. “People will start screaming, shouting, running around the streets with guns and knives. That will be the facilitated part. Now the very real part is the fire that will be started by a few of my people, each in a key point of London. Those fires will ignite the entire city very quickly, and to make sure as many people can escape the city safely I’m going to flood the Thames as a surefire escape route. Not everyone will get out…” Philip shook his head. “But the number of living will be much higher than after an extermination.”
For a moment Xavier was silent. His mind was experiencing technical difficulties, unable to comprehend what had just been presented. His city would be destroyed, eradicated, wiped off the map. His haven would still exist, but every possible entrance would be buried amid ash and debris. In a few short moments his entire life had crumbled around him.
“And what happens to us?” He finally asked, timid and scared.
“Most people will make it to the countryside.” Philip said solemnly. “There’s a number of small villages and towns to choose from out there, as well as the usual natural landscape. Caves, forests, lakes, they’ll all find a way to survive. Humans always do.”
Xavier was silent for a long time, and Philip kept checking the time on his lackluster watch, a gift from Judas for timing sake. Finally the boy spoke, seeming smaller than he ever had before. “And me?”
“You’re coming with me.” Philip said with surprising surety. Instinct had kicked in, and it had told him to trust the boy. There was something, a feeling or an emotion or even an aura that he exuded that Philip had never felt before. He did know was that this teenage boy, as childlike and fragile as he was inside, would be important. Very important. Of that he was sure.
“Where?”
Philip thought for a moment. Judas had told him to come to Ál-Jalîya, revealing that he himself operated out of the Capital. They were to rendezvous there where he would be given protection of the kind that only power of a highest degree could offer. But now…
“Moscow.” He said finally. That was the only location he knew where another of the twelve was stationed. Thomas and he had broken the rules and given each other their information as a fail-safe, in case either of them ever needed a place to hide. And now was the time to cash in.
“Moscow?” Xavier said questioningly.
“It’s a frigid, isolated city in the east. One of my colleagues is there. And-” Philip paused, more for effect than anything. “It would be the last place anyone would look.”
“I guess…” Xavier began unsurely, grinding his teeth in indecisiveness.
“Good enough for me.” Philip said blithely. He readied himself by the wheel, waiting for the signal.

Thanks for reading!

I'm coming into the story late, but here goes...

Chapter 10:

I thought this chapter was pretty hokey. The fact that Esti was held captive and still allowed to keep a bag with explosives in it is more than a little convenient. When you capture someone, the first thing you do is search their belongings to find out who they are. If you suspect they are a threat to you, you make sure to remove anything that can be used as a weapon.

Forgetting to take a bag with explosives is so incredibly stupid that even the character doesn't understand why they didn't do it. But hey, if you're going to be kind to Esti, then she'll take it. In fact, you're much too kind!

Look at all the things you've given Esti:

• Explosives.
• A detonator that will work, despite the laws of physics.
• No encounters with any of the crew, despite the fact that the hallways were more busy than Grand Central Station not moments before.
• A rope which was just conveniently lying around so that Esti could make a cool entrance to the wheelhouse.
• You also allowed her to cross an open deck in full view of the wheel house, without being detected by the person inside the wheel house.
• Despite thirty hours of no food or sleep, she is still able to fight without any serious disadvantage.

The only question I have is why you're being so nice with your characters. Wouldn't the story be more exciting if Esti had to figure out how to sabotage the ship, without explosives? If she ran into a crewman on the way and she had to take him out, would it really detract from the story? And if she had to fight someone who saw her coming, would it likewise be that bad of a thing?

By being so nice to your character, you drain any chance of suspense that your story could have. When everything goes right for a character, then we don't get to the see the character work. The thing that is more revealing of a character and what they are capable of is when things go absolutely wrong. You get to see them think quickly on their feet.

This is like watching someone play a video game on the easiest possible setting. I suggest changing the difficulty to normal, or even extreme and then rewrite the chapter with that in mind.

I read a small part. I think you write dialogue quite well, but everything doesn't flow as well as it could.

Thanks for the feedback; I'll definitely consider everything you said while I'm writing the rest, though I'd like to leave this chapter the way it is at least for now. I envisioned it getting harder as it went on, kind of like a video game's difficulty curve. Also, in my defense, those weren't her explosives. She found them along with the weapons in one of the previous chapters. Most of the stuff you mentioned though I thought would logically happen (even though it may not have been as entertaining as it could be), with the exception of the sleep thing (which I will rewrite a bit). There were no crew because they'd all gone to deck; the storm would have hidden her from view; and this being the future the detonator would be a little more advanced that today (though I realize that's a bit of license on my part). Anyway, thanks. Constructive criticism is the best kind.

Alright, first of all I sorry the review's late!! I had it saved, but it took a while to get around to posting it x( now it's probably dated and useless! But I'll post anyways, who knows some stuff might still help xP

CHAPTER TEN
The following twenty-nine hours were the longest in Esti’s life. She had exhausted her small supply of food while continuously wondering why her captors hadn’t emptied her backpack when they’d snatched her from Houston. The ship had been creaking and groaning around her all night, making it impossible to sleep. And to stay away from the crew, who passed just often enough to keep her on hair-trigger, she had holed up in a storage closet about the size of a porthole. All night her back had been pressed against the steel hull, and she was beginning to think that taking out the crew wasn’t going to be her biggest problem. That would be simply standing up.
But ever so slowly the announcements over the ship’s intercom had inched toward the thirty-hour mark, and she could feel the early morning sun beginning to heat up the metal behind her.
“One hour to docking. All crew return to your positions.”
“Finally.” Esti muttered. Still, before she opened the door she listened for any crewmen passing by. It would be both very annoying and anticlimactic to be caught this early in the show.
Finally though she could hear nothing more outside, and slowly began to inch the door open. However as soon as she tried to move her back let loose a flare of pain, and she gritted her teeth.
Better get this over with. She thought, and jerked herself up.
“Arg…” She bit back a curse as her vertebrae grated against each other, trying to adapt back to their normal position after being cramped in a closet for close to thirty hours. Still wincing as the pain began to abate, Esti slowly slipped down the hallway toward the ladder at the far end which led up to the deck. However she had a sudden idea, and quickly pulled out one of the explosives, checking the fine print on the back of the detonator. Her eyes immediately found the text she was looking for: Operable at distances up to five-hundred yards. Signal penetrates all metal, even lead, and breaks through most low-grade radio jammers.
This might just work. She licked her lips and turned back around, toward a door marked simply with an arrow pointing down. It slid open effortlessly, and she could tell that this was the one door that was continually oiled. Below it, she was sure, would be the engine room.

Roughly twenty minutes later Esti emerged from the door missing three of the explosives. They were all sitting about fifty feet below, jammed into cracks in the engine. With luck, she thought, they might even sink the ship.
“Thirty minutes until docking!” The intercom shouted again. “All crewmen to their stations!”
Esti smiled softly and walked back over to the ladder. However just as she was about to start climbing she suddenly remembered the other cages. All five of them held captives. And if the ship did sink the hold would be the first thing to go under.
How much time do I have? Esti grimaced.
“Twenty-five minutes!” The intercom answered.
That was nowhere near enough to break the cages with the Froster. Her only hope would be if she could find a key…
Face it comma Esti. An angry voice spoke up in a corner of her mind. It’s either them or you. Take it or leave it. It’s not that hard.
She had never been indecisive before in her life, and caught halfway up the ladder this was a completely new experience for her. Esti had never held someone’s life in her hands before, much less five, and she was suddenly reminded of how young she really was.
“Twenty-three minutes! All crew report NOW!” The intercom blared obtrusively. In that moment Esti began to climb, quashing any mental protest. Survival instinct had taken over.
Interesting choice, I would have expected her to try and save them.

About five minutes later she emerged from the labyrinth of ladders and passages and onto the deck of the ship, for the first time realizing how massive it really was. The ancient freighter’s deck was large enough to land a small plane on, and coated in grease and hundreds of crates of cargo.
What exactly are they transporting? Esti wondered for a moment, leaning on the side of a wooden one standing next to the hatch, trying to get a good view at the back of the ship. A moment later she found her answer, as the soaked and rotted wood collapsed behind her releasing a spew of beer.
Figures.
She didn’t worry about it; the pounding rain would wash it off soon enough. She was more worried about reaching the wheelhouse unseen, though right now that didn’t seem such a daunting task. For a ship this large it seemed hugely undermanned, and the only sailors she could see were holding on for dear life.
Sailors? She thought, a slight chuckle escaping her throat. And they’ve never been in a storm before.
Then, as soon as she took her first step out of the shelter of the hatch, a monstrous wave crashed into the starboard side of the ship. Her feet blew out from under her and Esti went skidding down the oily deck.
Remember, oil and water don’t mix! Abraham’s voice whispered in her head.
Nice time for that lesson comma dad. Esti thought, remarkably calmly for a person about to be tossed into the sea. She had seen a loose rope by the side of the ship while she’d been scanning the deck, and a plan had already formulated in her mind.
Here it comes. She thought grimly yet excitedly, the adrenaline flooding her system a feeling she wholeheartedly enjoyed. One, two-
Her hands flashed up like striking vipers and clasped the hanging rope just as she was about to fly over the edge. There was a single moment of dread as she wondered if the rope would go taut or fall flat, and then a flood of relief as it snapped straight in her hands. Through the blinding rain she saw the ship receding and the ocean frothing below her in a thousand hungry whirlpools. Esti was weightless, swinging over a vast void on a fraying rope with absolutely nothing to save her if she fell.
And she was loving every second of it. haha ^_^

In the wheelhouse Caius angrily smashed the off button, both breaking it and silencing the intercom for good. If they hadn’t reported to the wheelhouse by now, well, they were as good as dead in that storm. Still, as always, the Dutchman would ride it out. He could see the skyline of Philadelphia; a faint silhouette [on] the drenched horizon growing painstakingly nearer with each passing minute. In fact, he was concentrating so intently on the skyline that he failed to notice the spectral form flying over the ocean to his left. Later he would wonder how he missed it.

Esti landed catlike on the deck outside the steps leading up to the wheelhouse, the rope sweeping harmlessly away over through the rain. She took each step one at a time, grasping the railing as forcefully as she could. Still comma she slipped at least five times before making it to the third step, the wind doing its level best to knock her into the roiling waves. Somehow though, she did make it to the top, and once she did comma all that stood in her way were the five yards of open deck to the wheelhouse door.
But she wasn’t ready yet. There was one more thing to do.

The Dutchman was hardly a minute away from Philadelphia when Caius heard a colossal bang echo through the bowels of the ship This seems like an unrealistic amount of time. I mean, it probably takes a few minutes for a ship to slowly inch in to the harbor and stop rocking so much. So with a minute left, they are probably already there x) Ten minutes away from the harbor might sound better, I think.. The floor below him shook with the reverberations of the explosion, and after a few seconds of sputtering the immense freighter stopped dead in its tracks. For a moment he just stood in place, staring at the dashboard before him where there had, two seconds before, been a panel of flashing lights. Now each and every one was extinguished. Only a massive engine failure could have caused something like this-

Esti felt the explosion ricochet throughout the ship less than a second after she detonated the bombs, and a few seconds later what had been a dull growl petered out to a reedy whine, then into complete silence. The engine had died. The ship was stranded. It was time.
She took the last few yards to the wheelhouse at a dash, opting for the theory that sheer speed would overcome slipperiness. Oddly enough it did, and she grabbed the door without so much as a single slide. She waited a single second before yanking it open, and immediately fired straight into the room beyond.

Caius felt the bullet pierce his right leg with a sort of strange disbelief. The last few seconds had happened too quickly for him to comprehend, and the searing pain cascading up and down his spinal cord did nothing for his comprehension. Unaware of just how badly he was injured, the stocky crime lord attempted to turn around and immediately crumpled to the deck. The last thing he saw was his assailant, and for a moment he just stared in shock. It was a girl! A freaking teenage girl! She was standing there in the open doorway, looking windswept and weather-beaten and just as shocked as him, one of his standard-issue Magnums held loosely in her hand. Her index finger was still frozen on the trigger, smoke still curling lackadaisically up from the silver barrel. Her other hand held one of his RC explosives, no doubt the same thing that had just fried the engine. And slowly through the dark mists of unconsciousness he saw the finger unwind from the trigger, the gun slowly fall from the slackened hand. It took a million seconds to fall and only one to be swept into the sea by the wind and rain. And a second after that the girl had followed it into the storm, dissolving into the pounding water as if she had never existed.

Esti felt herself falling toward the sea, her body mechanically forming itself into an arrowlike point. She entered the water splash-lessly, soundlessly, painlessly. All feeling had left her body. Silently, brokenly, she slipped back up to the surface under the shadow of the ship, drifting uncaringly over the eddies and waves way too many adverbs in this paragraph so far, it really weighs the whole thing down x) I’d delete a few of them. . The darkness was closing in and she didn’t care. The only thing she could see was that slow-motion image of the man she had shot falling to the ground in pain, clutching at what had, less than a second before, been a fully functional leg. Her bullet had reduced it to a mass of blood and flesh, a gaping hole torn in the fabric of her existence. She had done that. She had ripped that gash into that living flesh. She had torn it apart.
It’s cold. She thought distantly, no longer caring about anything that had once, for some reason or other, seemed important. Her father. Her world. Her life. There was nothing left to care about.
It’s so cold. So, so cold. I love this, I really do.
Is it just me that thinks she has mood swings? It seems like she was just swinging around on that rope Capt. Jack Sparrow style, loving every second of it, and now she’s emotionally depressed again. Not really a bad thing, but just pointing it out.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
The creaky elevator slowly descended through Big Ben, Philip sitting against the wall, his eyes closed in thought. There was an obvious way to enforce a mass evacuation and make it look like a rebellion. A massive fire would take care of all of their needs. The city would be obliterated. People would be running for the countryside. Judas’s Exterminators would swoop in and blast away the smoking remainder into the wind. It would work like clockwork. But why was he so reluctant?
People will die in the fire. You know that. There needs to be another way.
They’ll die anyway if we can’t do something.
The elevator jerked to a halt and Philip slowly stood, clacking his cane on the ground before him, once again in character of the old man on the street. As he walked his mind continued to battle, but he always knew what the conclusion would be.
The fire is the only way. If enough people are warned most will escape.
No. There is another way.
There is no other way to make this look like a rebellion. It needs to be convincing. And to be convincing there must be a loss of life.
When did you become so mechanical?
There is no other way.
You have twelve hours. Think of one!
He stopped on the sidewalk, looking up at the sky. It was a clear, brilliant blue, the summer sun its glistening centerpiece. And suddenly he knew. Double negatives cancel out. There would be a fire. And then there would be a flood. Eh, how does this make sense? So he will make a fire, burning people, and then drown them out? X)

Xavier slowly regained consciousness, and judging by the encroaching darkness outside he had lain on the floor through the day. Immediately he peered around the room, searching for something different than before, trying to justify the intense paranoia that had overcome him before.
But there was nothing.
It was simply a brick room. The brick was new, but there were thousands of possible explanations for that. The door locked auto-matically, one word; automatically. but there were also thousands of explanations for that. The- why cut off a sentence after only one word? Why not delete it completely?
Suddenly there was a subtle click behind him and Xavier, on hair-trigger, spun around with his fists raised. However the man who walked into the small room was hardly worth the trouble. He looked to be older than fifty, and in his right hand he held a wooden cane stylized with an owl.
“Who the hell are you?” Xavier asked defensively, cautiously lowering his fists.
“I should ask you the same question. comma” Philip said calmly, staring carefully back. The government had used child spies before, but this one didn’t fit the bill. He was skinny, malnourished and shorter than he should have been, his skin pale and stretched tightly over his narrow face. And there was a strange quality emanating from his beetle-black eyes, a strange sparkle that could have been wonder, vitality, or a sprinkle of both.
“I asked first.”
“I’m older.”
Xavier continued to glare suspiciously, the defensive-child side of him making an appearance. “I’m stronger.”
“I doubt that.” Philip waggled his free hand. “See, I have a cane.”
“I’m quicker.”
“Fine. Now tell me why you’re in the river-house.” Philip asked, beginning to tap the ground impatiently, his cane making a sharp clack against the stone.
“Wha…?” Xavier looked quizzically around. “River house?”
Philip rolled his eyes angrily. “What the hell are you doing in here kid!”
“The door locked behind me!” Xavier protested, his voice taking the high pitch of a child. “I had no idea what this place is! I tried to get out, I really did!”
Philip raised his eyebrows, studying the strange case before him. “I’m not sure if I should believe you.” He began. “But by the fact that you don’t look like a spy tells me I should.”
“A spy…?” Xavier asked, flabbergasted. “What the…”
“Look kid, just bear with me.” Philip began, walking over to the far wall where the room’s only other piece of furniture, a copper ship’s wheel, stood. “I don’t have much time. This room was built to control the flooding of the Thames, probably made originally by the government for crowd control.”
“Sick.”
“I agree completely.” Philip replied, almost smiling at Xavier’s disgusted innocence. “But now it works to our advantage.”
“Who is our?” Xavier asked acutely.
“You’re sharper than you seem.” Philip said. “I will explain it all soon.” Even though I have no idea who you are or whether I should take you with me. “But very soon, in roughly ten minutes time, a fake rebellion will be staged in the streets of London.”
“Why?” Xavier was curious now, once again with the voice of a small child.
“London is set to be exterminated. To only way to evacuate in time is to stage this rebellion as a smokescreen.” Philip explained. “People will start screaming, shouting, running around the streets with guns and knives. That will be the facilitated part. Now the very real part is the fire that will be started by a few of my people, each in a key point of London. Those fires will ignite the entire city very quickly, and to make sure as many people can escape the city safely I’m going to flood the Thames as a surefire escape route. Not everyone will get out…” Philip shook his head. “But the number of living will be much higher than after an extermination.”
For a moment Xavier was silent. His mind was experiencing technical difficulties, unable to comprehend what had just been presented. His city would be destroyed, eradicated, wiped off the map. His haven would still exist, but every possible entrance would be buried amid ash and debris. In a few short moments his entire life had crumbled around him.
“And what happens to us?” He finally asked, timid and scared.
“Most people will make it to the countryside.” Philip said solemnly. “There’s a number of small villages and towns to choose from out there, as well as the usual natural landscape. Caves, forests, lakes, they’ll all find a way to survive. Humans always do.”
Xavier was silent for a long time, and Philip kept checking the time on his lackluster watch, a gift from Judas for timing sake. Finally the boy spoke, seeming smaller than he ever had before. “And me?”
“You’re coming with me.” Philip said with surprising surety. Instinct had kicked in, and it had told him to trust the boy. There was something, a feeling or an emotion or even an aura that he exuded that Philip had never felt before. [What] He did know was that this teenage boy, as childlike and fragile as he was inside, would be important. Very important. Of that he was sure. I’ve never liked it when a character’s motives are simply ‘I just have this feeling…’. To me, it’s cheap. How often have you ever looked at someone or something and just ‘had a feeling’? How often do you act on it? It seems to me like it’d be more realistic if Philip took the boy with him just out of the goodness of his heart. The way you say it makes it seem like the only reason he’s letting Xavier tag along is because he thinks he’s someone important. Just my opinion.
“Where?”
Philip thought for a moment. Judas had told him to come to Ál-Jalîya, revealing that he himself operated out of the Capital. They were to rendezvous there where he would be given protection of the kind that only power of a highest degree could offer. But now…
“Moscow.” He said finally. That was the only location he knew where another of the twelve was stationed. Thomas and he had broken the rules and given each other their information as a fail-safe, in case either of them ever needed a place to hide. And now was the time to cash in.
“Moscow?” Xavier said questioningly.
“It’s a frigid, isolated city in the east. One of my colleagues is there. And-” Philip paused, more for effect than anything. “It would be the last place anyone would look.”
“I guess…” Xavier began unsurely, grinding his teeth in indecisiveness.
“Good enough for me.” Philip said blithely. He readied himself by the wheel, waiting for the signal.

Good ending! It’s kind of a cliffhanger x)

I like Philip’s and Xavier’s dialogue. Although Philip did most of the talking, I thought they had good chemistry. Xavier‘s timid-ness worked well here. And the way old man Philip held authority was also nice x)

Esti’s escape was well planned, it felt a bit epic when she shot the captain and then jumped into the water. Although I don’t really know why she had to shoot the captain in the first place, he didn’t even realize she was there until he was on the ground bleeding x) You did a nice job creating the atmosphere with the stormy weather and the water slicked deck. When you show us Esti running around in a panic, slipping every other step on the impossible surface it really brings a reader in. It’s good to know that you always pay attention to the character’s surroundings. I noticed it as well in previous chapters with the city of London and the dark alley and the bottom level of the ship.

Overall I had fun reading this, I really enjoy your characters. I mean I could rant on and on about the stuff I liked but it wouldn’t really be constructive, would it? X)

If there was something you were wondering about that I didn’t mention in the review, just PM me, I’m always open to talk x)

Oh, I do have one major criticism. Your dialogue, dude. The punctuation is not correct.
Here’s a few examples of incorrect/correct lines, and maybe you’ll get what I’m saying.

“You’re coming with me.” Philip said with surprising surety.

“You’re coming with me,” Philip said with surprising surety.

“And what happens to us?” He finally asked, timid and scared.

“And what happens to us?” he finally asked, timid and scared.

Philip raised his eyebrows, studying the strange case before him. “I’m not sure if I should believe you.” He began. “But by the fact that you don’t look like a spy tells me I should.”

Philip raised his eyebrows, studying the strange case before him. “I’m not sure if I should believe you,” he began, “but by the fact that you don’t look like a spy tells me I should.”

The main key to remember is that ‘he said’ and ‘she said’ are all dialogue TAGS. They continue and finish the sentence. They are not complete sentences on their own. Therefore, they start out with a lowercase letter, unless it’s a name. Here’s where you’ve done it right.

“Moscow?” Xavier said questioningly.

“The door locked behind me!” Xavier protested, his voice taking the high pitch of a child.

“Wha…?” Xavier looked quizzically around. “River house?”

I’m horrible at explaining these things, sorry x) Well I’m sure you can find all kinds of dialogue punctuation tutorials online, so I suggest looking those up.

Anyways, I’ve blabbed enough. Great chapters! Sorry it took me so long to get to them!
Let me know if this helped ^_^
blacksheep