Burn The Boats Novels & Stories

She smiled. The heat here reminded her of her summer in Johannesburg, she thought of the cool water at the beaches she had visited and suddenly became thirsty. She ran her wet tongue over her parched lips and wished it would suddenly rain but then she groaned at the thought, it never rained in the desert. She rolled her head and jumped in frustration, upsetting the sand beneath her feet, sending dust particles up in the air.

Right after I finished speaking, Rita threw herself off the hospital bed. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, filled with stubbornness and sorrow. "Looks like I've been getting in the way of your perfect little family. The doctor said if I didn't get new skin grafts soon, the burns could kill me. Don't worry. I'll stay out of sight so I won't ruin your happiness," she said. She deliberately pulled back her sleeve, exposing the mottled, raw skin beneath. Then, with tears streaming down her face, she dialed her phone and called to give up on treatment.

The stupid shark has punctured the boat with its teeth, and the boat is teetering off the side, my side. “Crinka jump!” The candles fall, and the broken parts of the boat is burning up. The boat is sinking and I’m going to drown, if I don’t burn first. I am sweating profusely from the heat of the flames, and my vision is starting to blur. The shark has sensed the fire, and has dived into the water for safety. I’m getting choked up, so I did what I thought best, and let go of the boat. I swim blindly away from the burning boat, but I know I’m not going to last on the surface for long. And that’s when I remember Sia.

The heavy wooden boathouse beside the water was burning fiercely, its roof collapsed in a shower of glowing red embers. "MOM!" Noah screamed, throwing the van door open and sprinting toward the burning pier. "Noah, stop! The floorboards are weak!" Luke shouted, running right behind him. Noah ignored the warning. He leaped onto the smoking wooden planks, his heart hammering in his chest like a trapped drum. He ran straight toward the edge where the boat was tied. The deck of the motorboat was messy, covered in broken glass, torn life jackets, and dark water.

“He wants the boats.” A cold realisation settled. Not for escape but for transport, for the children and for me. He still intended to move us physically out of the city once Ruin’s defences collapsed. Ruin understood at once. “Then the boats burn first.” I scanned the dock. “There are fuel drums stacked near Pier Three." “Can you hit them?” The question was simple, but the answer was not. I looked at Mila. Then at the old signal rifle mounted near the emergency flare rack, it was a forgotten long-range dock defence weapon but still functional.

The explosion tears across the water behind them, swallowing one of the pursuing boats in fire and smoke while the shockwave hits their boat. “Shit!” Ilya curses, forcing the boat in what he believes is the right direction. “Go faster!” Valen calls out. “I am going as fast as this thing will—” Ilya’s voice gets swallowed by the sound of another explosion that once again sends their boat sideways, and when he turns around, he sees that both boats are in flames. “Sucks to be them,” he murmurs and turns back to keeping their boat going, but just then, Valen presses against him from behind, nosing at his scent gland and gripping his waist tightly.

Back then, my mother used her family’s resources to turn that “gold-digger husband” of hers into the richest man in Astrid City. Naturally, I could take all of it back. Most of our family’s businesses were overseas anyway. After resolving all of the remaining problems in the country, finalizing the divorce and recovering all of my mother’s marital assets, I prepared to move abroad and live with my grandfather. The next time I heard about Matthew was through the news. The once-up-and-coming Fuller Group in Astrid City had collapsed completely in less than a year.

They lean down and kiss her head. Then Cesar touches the torch to the edge of the boat, watching as it lights up with the bright orange flame. He grits his teeth together harshly before dipping the torch into the water and nudging the burning boat out into the water with the tip of his toe. He returns to my side al I hold his arm tightly and he lets me into his embrace. The boat burns out on the water, lifting White Lion's spirit to the afterlife. I am used to going to burials back home, but this funeral is so much more symbolic. Instead of hiding one's