Burn The Boats Novels & Stories

He set the untouched drink aside and reached for his coat. Fire had rules. Fire did not look back. Fire did not involve itself in accidents or strangers. But tonight, Fire had collided with something cold. And for reasons he couldn’t yet explain, Alexander Steele knew this was not just an incident. It was the beginning of something dangerous.

she shot back, totally indifferent. "At this rate, the floods will break out any day now. The sea level will rise, too. You and Snowviper might not roast to death, but you'll drown. So, why not work with us? Blazewing could fly us all up to the top of Mount Cashmoore. It's safe there."

Jagged shards of alchemical copper wire and shattered brass casing spun across the iron deck like canister shot, slicing through the canvas steam-lines and severing the primary pressure feeds from the ship’s boilers. The unquenchable white fire did not slowly fade; it died instantly, choked by its own ruptured gasses. The sudden silence that fell over the Black-Water basin was heavier than the smoke. The blinding magnesium glare vanished, leaving the harbor illuminated only by the dull, orange glow of the burning timber-wagons and the pale morning light of the salt-marches.

She glanced back at the fireball and yelled, "Dante, we have to go back! She’s still there!" Dante clung to the side of the boat, his hands pale as bone. He stared at the burning shore, eyes filled with something like sorrow. "We can’t go back, June. Look behind us." June twisted around. Out of the haze, two black jet skis ripped across the water, slicing through the waves like sharks. The Vancents weren’t done. Victor Vancent wanted the last thing they had—the secret password.

A joke. One day, maybe one day, she would let Lola know that she’d meant those words she’d treated as a joke today, but for now, she had to clear out the weeds and take them out from the roots. * * * “Now don’t you shoot yourself in the foot, my proud friend? There’s still more time left.” Grandfather Sanchez cautioned Old Boyd who had rang him up via video chat to taunt him. The man was persistent and Lazarus Sanchez started to get more irritated. The door to his bedroom opened and Mr Henry walked in and bowed.

Then the three together stated: As we live, they live, for they are now a part of us, and we shall remember them always. With each statement, the boys lit some of the cedar in the boat. Both boats were soon ablaze. My mates waded out into the frigid water, freeing the boats from the shore and pushing them out into the current. We all stood there, watching, as they floated off, seemingly following the silver streak of the moon’s reflection on the water. Finally, the triplets turned around and waded out. They came to me and enveloped me in their arms.

"Avalyn and I will be the ones executing it. Once the boats are about to reach the shore, Ava will use her powers to light them on fire along with the men on board. Their ashes will be mixed into the water and with the sand. No proof of what happened will remain. Only one boat will make it out and the snipers will shoot them all once their feet touch the sand. This will make it look more natural and ward off suspicion." I raised my hands, palms towards them, and imagined the boats burning. I imagined the fire licking the wooden boats and engulfing the entire boat and the people in it too. "Avalyn?" Nikolai's voice turned unsure. My eyes snapped open and I saw the boats were almost at the sho

The smoke from the burning boats in the cove didn’t just rise; it choked the Sicilian moonlight, twisting into oily black ribbons that smelled of expensive gasoline and failed ambitions. Beneath the cliffs, the wreckage of the *Sombra* intervention was a smoldering graveyard of high-tech gear and shattered egos. For the Board back in Rome, this wasn't just a tactical loss—it was a public relations nightmare currently unfolding in real-time.

He gripped the boat's steering wheel with one hand and picked up his rifle with the other. A rain of bullets began to pour from the speedboats behind us. Small fountains of water erupted where the bullets struck the surface. ​Lucas pushed the boat to its maximum speed. It skipped over the waves with violent jolts. With every shudder, my heart felt like it was tearing apart. Lucas turned occasionally to fire back. With his perfect aim, one of the speedboats' engines caught fire and exploded into a massive fireball within seconds. But the remaining two boats refused to give up the chase.

Then the people gathered at the docks—people who had come to pay their respects—lit their own arrows and fired. The boat burned. The orange glow flickered against the dark water, dancing with the ripples of the lake. It was beautiful, and it was tragic. It was goodbye. Again. I looked at the triplets, at Madeline, as they stood side by side, watching the flames consume the small vessel. Madeline’s fingers curled around the fabric of her dress, her lips trembling. Caeson’s jaw was tight, his shoulders stiff. Reigh’s face was just same, but I knew that beneath it all was a storm of emotions.