Tinman, Chapter 18 Draco's muscles tensed as he drove the last buzz-thumper into Ares soil, its metal body sinking with a final, satisfying crunch. The gadget, no bigger than his forearm, stood sentinel-like among its kin, studding the landscape at precise intervals. No wires spiraled from these sentinels; instead, they harbored a silent pact to weave an unseen net of charged particles in the air between them. The electric fence was a relic of old technology, yet it served its purpose well, creating a barrier not unlike the shimmering force fields sung about in spacer's tales. But dreams of such advanced protection were reserved for vessels whose price tags boasted more zeroes than the Ryan family could count. Here on this unforgiving terrain, they made do with the tools within their reach. "Okay, turn it on," Draco commanded. Cass, who stood by the generator, her hand hovering over the mechanism that would breathe life into their makeshift defense. Her green eyes narrowed in focus, betraying none of the excitement that bubbled beneath her collected exterior. This was more than routine; it was the culmination of preparation, the invisible line that would guard them against the unknown. With a decisive nod to herself, she pressed down, and silence gave way to a new presence in the thick forest—a subtle vibration beneath the surface, a whisper of energy that spoke of barriers now alive and watchful. She stood back, eyes tracing the invisible line where the electric charge now danced between the buzz-thumpers—silent sentinels guarding against the wilderness of this alien land. "Good work," came Draco's voice, a hint of relief threaded through his tone. He heaved the sledgehammer onto the boat with a grunt, metal clanging against the deck, a finality to their fortifications. Draco's gaze then shifted, settling on the wet sluice that lay disassembled before him. With practiced movements, he pieced together the contraption. The framework clicked into place, the water gate creaked open, and the screen stretched taut across its mouth, ready to reveal the creek’s hidden treasures. "Ready for the first batch?" Cass called out, her ponytail swishing as she hoisted a shovel laden with earth. "Let's see what secrets you've uncovered," he replied, anticipation coloring his voice. She flung the dirt onto the screen, a cloud of dust rising and dissipating in the filtered light. A cascade of water from the bucket followed, transforming the pile into a slurry. Cass plunged her hands into the mix, fingers deftly sifting through the mud. She was searching, seeking—the miner's alchemy at work. The sluice whispered promises of undiscovered gems as grains of sand and pebbles separated, sluiced away by the steady stream of water. Each movement of Cass’s hands was deliberate, born of hope and honed by experience—a dance between her and the earth that held its breath, waiting to yield its glistening prizes. Draco watched as Cass's fingers danced through the wet earth, her brow furrowed in concentration. Her hands, coated with a patina of mud and water, moved with purpose, separating the worthless from the potentially valuable. The sluice gave up its contents to her questing touch, a stream of debris filtering through the screen and disappearing into the creek. "Anything?" Draco asked, his voice breaking the rhythm of the flowing water. Cass straightened, looking down at the assortment cradled in her hands. "Just some garnets," she replied, her tone tinged with a hint of disappointment that didn't quite hide the undercurrent of persistent optimism. The garnets, though mere whispers of the treasures they sought, caught the light in their facets—a small cluster of deep red promises glinting against her palm. Cass examined them briefly before releasing them to her collection bucket–they might be useful for some sort of jewelry. The sun marched higher, casting a relentless gaze over the rugged landscape. Cass's shadow, elongated and insubstantial on the rocky creek bed, bent and swayed as she sifted through the day's unremarkable yield. Garnets, tourmaline, and obsidian fragments lay scattered around her—a testament to persistence rather than success. "Let's try further up the creek," Cass suggested, her voice firm despite the paucity of precious finds. Draco nodded, pocketing his notebook with a careful motion. The pages, filled with meticulous sketches and notes, caught the sunlight briefly before he closed the cover, protecting the ink from the elements. He descended the steep embankment, his boots skidding slightly on the loose gravel, sending stones clattering into the water below. With determined hands, he emptied the sluice, watching the last of the water swirl down, mingling with the stream’s gentle flow. Grasping the wooden frame, Draco dragged it behind him, following Cass's purposeful strides further upstream. Her figure moved ahead, deliberate and undeterred, an explorer charting an unseen map. Cass stopped, her gaze fixed on the mud at her feet. She scooped up a shovelful of the earth-rich promise and let it cascade into the waiting grate of the sluice. The sound was soft, almost hushed, like secrets whispered between confidants. Water rushed over the mixture, unveiling its components with each pass. Draco, meanwhile, reclaimed his place along the bank, perching himself just above the reach of the water’s curious fingers. He opened his notebook once more, the blank page before him ready to be adorned with the visions teeming in his mind. His pencil danced across the paper; lines curved and intersected, forming shapes that echoed the world around him and the one within. As Cass continued her methodical search, her hands delving into the cold, wet sediment, Draco lost himself in the cadence of creation, the creek murmuring its approval at their shared endeavor. Cass's exclamation shattered the afternoon stillness as a gleam of vibrant green emerged from the mud-stained water sluicing through the grate. She held up her find between thumb and forefinger, sunlight catching the facets of a rough but unmistakable emerald. "Hey, Draco, I found an emerald, and it’s a pretty good one," she announced, her voice tinged with triumph. "Sam was right, this creek is a good spot for gem hunting." Looking up, her enthusiasm dimmed slightly at the sight of Draco, statuesque on the bank, his gaze distant and unfocused. Cass knew that look all too well—the disconnect that signaled his mind had wandered far from the physical realm. "Are you in the survey drone again?" she asked, squinting against the sun to catch any flicker of awareness in his eyes. After a moment, the faraway gloss cleared from Draco's eyes, giving way to the sharp, attentive gleam that Cass recognized. He blinked, reorienting himself to the here and now. "Yeah," Draco admitted, his voice a low confession as he glanced back at the paper, its lines and sketches momentarily forgotten. "The drone’s alarm went off and I went to see if Dad was okay." Relief mingled with frustration coursed through Cass. The dangers of their remote location were ever-present, yet she couldn't deny a surge of thankfulness that Draco could extend his senses so deftly, ensuring Sam's safety from afar. Cass's fingers, still muddy from the sluice's wet earth, clenched slightly as she watched Draco's expression shift from distant to present. Her heart, which had taken flight with worry, settled back into its rhythm. "Is he okay?" she asked, her voice steady despite the concern that lingered at the edges of her tone. Draco nodded, a lock of hair falling forward over his brow. "Yeah, the drone spotted an animal near him, it’s a Lynx," he said with a casualness that belied the rarity of such a creature. Cass released a breath she hadn't realized she’d been holding. The quiet between them stretched for a moment, filled only by the gurgling creek and the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Cass's eyes widened, disbelief etching her features. "Those are extinct," she replied, her voice a whisper lost amid the chorus of the wilderness. Draco shook his head, strands of hair dancing in the wind. "Not here they're not," he said, a note of awe lacing his words. "It's moving away from Dad now, he's okay." A sense of wonder enveloped Cass as she processed Draco's words. Extinct creatures roaming freely—a thought that sparked both intrigue and a twinge of fear. She considered the implications, the way nature could reclaim its sovereignty in the absence of human interference. The creek burbled nearby, indifferent to their discovery, while leaves overhead rustled, whispering secrets of a world reborn. Cass felt a kinship with the earth beneath her feet, a shared knowledge of resilience. Cass sifted through the sediment, her hands working methodically as she separated the valuable from the valueless. The sluice whispered secrets of the earth’s bounty, and she listened intently, seeking a glimmer among the grit. Yet, in her heart, a pang of longing echoed with each stone she inspected. “I wish he’d let us go with him,” Cass murmured. Her voice carried a note of wistfulness that lingered in the air, mixing with the sounds of nature around them. Draco, perched on the bank above, peered over his notebook, eyes scanning the horizon before settling back on Cass. “I’ve been watching through the drone,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “I don’t think you would have wanted to go. That’s a rough hike; he’s struggling.” From his vantage point, Draco saw not just the physical path their father trod but also the strain of each step in the man’s weary posture. He could almost feel the ground shift beneath heavy boots, the sharp intake of breath as brambles snagged at fabric and skin. Cass paused, her gaze shifting from the sluice to Draco’s distant expression. His words painted a stark image of their father’s journey—one of endurance and solitude. It was a path she yearned to follow, yet one she acknowledged, with a silent nod, might be too treacherous for her eager feet. The creek continued its ceaseless flow beside them, indifferent to the trials of those who wandered its banks or to the dreams of a girl who wished to tread beyond them. Cass sifted through the mud with deft fingers, her brow furrowed in concentration as she examined each stone that glistened with the promise of hidden worth. The sluice gurgled and spat out the remnants of her hopeful search, a symphony to the methodical dance of her hands. "Has he found anything?" she asked, not looking up from her task. Her voice held the slightest tremor of anticipation, a contrast to the steady rhythm of her work. Draco, still perched on the bank, closed his notebook with a quiet snap. He shifted his gaze from the dense foliage that framed their makeshift camp to Cass's expectant face. "Just some quartz," he replied, his voice flat, bereft of the excitement that had charged the air moments before. The word 'quartz' fell between them like a pebble cast into still water, its ripples disrupting the hope that had buoyed Cass's spirit. She let out a soft sigh, the sound almost lost amidst the rustle of leaves and the creek's persistent murmur. "Quartz," she echoed under her breath, allowing herself a moment to feel the weight of disappointment. Then, with a shake of her head, she discarded the sentiment like an unwanted stone, her resolve unshaken. Cass knew the earth kept its treasures close; patience was merely another tool in her arsenal. Shadows stretched across the landscape like dark fingers, heralding the end of the day. The sun dipped below the horizon, its last rays clinging to the sky with a warm, golden glow. A distant rumble of thunder whispered threats of an encroaching storm, but Cass remained oblivious, her attention ensnared by the sluice's offerings. Draco observed her from above, his expression softening. Cass's focus was unwavering, her hands moving with practiced ease as she sifted through the sediment. The rolling peals of thunder seemed to hold no sway over her determination. With a sigh, he slipped the notebook that held his sketches into the pocket of his rugged jacket. Rising, he stretched, feeling the tightness in his muscles begin to relent. His eyes roamed the campsite and landed on their boat—a small, sturdy vessel that had carried them to this secluded spot. But now it lay differently than before; the water that had cradled it had receded, revealing the sandy bed beneath. Perplexed, Draco squinted at the curious sight. The creek, which had been a companionable trickle when they'd arrived, was now but a whisper of its former self. He furrowed his brow, the oddity gnawing at him. Nature did not act without reason, and this change was too abrupt to ignore. "Hey, Cass," he called down to her, an edge of concern lacing his voice. "Look at the water." Cass straightened up, wiping the mud from her hands onto her worn jeans. Her green eyes followed his gaze to where the boat now sat awkwardly on damp sand. "That's strange," she mused aloud, her curiosity piqued. "What could cause that?" Draco didn't answer. Instead, he scanned their surroundings, a growing unease settling in his chest. Something about this shift seemed ominous, a harbinger of an unseen threat lurking just beyond their senses. Draco's instincts flared, a silent alarm that whispered of peril. His hands moved with purpose, the connection between his mind and the drone seamless as a shadow merging with twilight. With a surge of thought, he reached out to Sam through the mechanical eyes hovering in the sky. "Drone, warn the kids," Sam’s urgent command reached the hovering sentinel, jolting Draco from his ethereal bridge. "Flash flood!" The words struck Draco with the force of a sledgehammer. He whirled around, his gaze moving up the creek where nature had unleashed its fury. Trees swayed in a grotesque dance, succumbing one by one to an invisible force. And then it reached his ears—the roar, a monstrous crescendo akin to an airplane engine at takeoff. Panic gripped him; there was no time for hesitation. In one fluid motion, Draco leaped from the bank, each muscle coiling and releasing with feline grace. Cass looked up, her expression shifting from concentration to alarm in an instant. "We have to go!" The words were a harsh bark, torn from Draco's throat as he swept Cass over his shoulders. Her weight hardly registered as adrenaline surged through him. He bolted, the ground beneath his boots becoming a blur of earthy tones and scattered pebbles. Cass's voice pierced the air, her confusion laced with fear. "What are you doing?" She struggled against Draco's grip, her limbs flailing in a futile attempt to regain control. Draco could spare no words for an explanation; his focus narrowed to the urgent task at hand. His legs churned with the force of pistons, each stride eating up the distance to their salvation. The boat lay ahead, a beacon of safety against the chaos that thundered towards them. The bank's incline, steep and unforgiving, would have posed a challenge under any other circumstance. But now, it was an adversary Draco refused to acknowledge. He heard the water's roar intensify, a locomotive of liquid wrath bearing down upon them. As they neared the vessel, he mustered every ounce of strength left in his quivering muscles. With a grunt of exertion, he hoisted Cass onto the deck. Her body sailed through the air, landing with an unceremonious thud against the wooden planks. Draco’s chest heaved as he fought to catch his breath, his mind already tallying the seconds they had before the flood's maw would snap shut around them. "Get inside!" Draco's voice sliced through the tumult, urgency giving it an edge sharp enough to penetrate the impending roar of the flood. He pointed at the boat's cabin, his other hand already fishing for the pocket knife nestled in his pocket. Cass scrambled to her feet on the deck, her eyes wide with alarm but obedient to the command. She ducked into the shelter, the hollow thud of the hatch sealing her from sight and sound. Draco's fingers closed around the cool metal of Sam's knife, a gift meant for utility, not for desperate measures like these. The blade flicked open with a click that was instantly swallowed by the cacophony of the approaching deluge. Seconds were slipping away like sand through his clenched fist, each one critical and irreplaceable. He positioned himself at the stern, where the rope that bound them to safety now promised doom. He sawed at the fibers, each stroke a race against the relentless surge of water that crept ever closer, threatening to reclaim the land it had once owned. The first wave crashed into him, a cold shock that threatened to topple his resolve along with his balance. His legs buckled, knees slamming against the unforgiving hull as the flood sought to pry him loose from his lifeline. Yet he clung to the tie-down like a liferaft in a tempest, his head submerging beneath the torrential curtain of water. Blindly, he persisted, the serrated edge of the blade biting into the rope, each pass bringing hope infinitesimally closer. Above the roar, above the rush, there was only the rhythm of his heart, beating out the time he had left to save them both. The world tilted—a precarious angle of existence where the boat flirted with collapse. Draco’s gaze, frantic and sharp, traced the line where sky threatened to swap places with water. Any second now, he thought, any second and all would be lost. The tie-down, a lifeline turned traitor, strained against the vessel's flank, contorting its posture toward disaster. He bore down, muscles straining, the knife finally cleaving through the last stubborn fiber. Relief was fleeting; as the boat righted itself with a slap against the waves, he felt victory slip from his grasp. Tossed by the merciless current, Draco flailed, his thoughts clawing for the sanctuary of hyper-space. He sought the familiar digital haven where his mind could escape the physical tumult—but his focus shattered as an unseen force collided with his skull. Darkness loomed at the edges of his vision, a ravenous entity eager to consume his consciousness. Air, he needed air—his lungs screamed silent protests as he battled the encroaching void. Bursting forth from the watery chaos, Draco inhaled sharply, the taste of fear mingling with the relief of oxygen. His eyes found no solace, no guide. The boat had vanished, erased by the relentless fury that churned around him. Directionless, he floated amidst the wrathful symphony of the flood, each note a thunderous declaration of nature's might. The banks, once solid guardians of the creek's path, eluded his desperate search, leaving him adrift in the aquatic maelstrom. The deluge seized Draco in its merciless grip, dragging him under once more. His feet struck the rocky creek bed; panic surged as he pushed upward, desperate for air. The world spun wildly, water smothering him from every side. Propelled again to the surface, he snatched a ragged breath before the flood's wrath reclaimed him. His consciousness wavered on the brink, a feeble light flickering against the overwhelming tide of darkness. With each second, his will frayed, and the abyss beckoned with open arms, whispering promises of eternal silence. A final thought whispered through his mind, a silent surrender to the inevitable—I'm going to die. Abruptly, life flooded back as Draco's eyes snapped open to a blurred vision of sky and chaos. He convulsed, expelling water in violent coughs that racked his body. Beneath him lay the unyielding deck of a boat, anchoring him to life. Kneeling above, a figure materialized, features coming into sharp focus. "There you are, that's it, cough it out. Thought we’d lost you there for a bit." Relief, raw and profound, washed over Draco, though his limbs lay heavy, unresponsive to his silent commands to move. The stranger’s presence anchored him, a lifeline cast across the tumultuous sea that had nearly claimed him. Draco's body convulsed, a relentless torrent of water forced from his stomach. Beside him, the solid form of a thickly muscled man shifted with practiced ease, rolling Draco to his side to aid the expulsion. Each heave left him hollow, emptied of the river that had sought to claim him as its own. As the last shudder wracked through him, Draco's hands clawed at the deck, seeking leverage. His chest heaved, lungs burning with the sweet sting of air. With a lurch, he attempted to rise, muscles trembling with the effort. "Whoa there, boy, just take it easy," came the man’s thickly accented voice, firm yet laced with an undertone of concern. The words reverberated in the space between them, binding Draco's fragmented senses with their calm assurance. The man's hand, broad and steady, pressed against Draco's shoulder, urging him back to stillness. A silent struggle played out within Draco, the impulse to move warring against the wisdom of those four simple words. He yielded, muscles relaxing incrementally as the world ceased its sickening spin, and for the moment, he acquiesced to the respite offered by the man’s guiding hand. Draco's throat, raw and aching, could hardly shape the words that clawed for escape. "Cass... she's... on our boat," he rasped, each syllable punctuated by a gasp. His mind's eye painted her image clearly—a beacon of determination, always poised with an answer, her green eyes scanning horizons yet unseen. "I have to...find...her." Upon hearing Draco's plea, the man’s gaze snapped toward the tumultuous river, his brow creasing with the weight of newfound urgency. He stood, his silhouette cutting a commanding figure against the chaotic backdrop. “Boys,” he bellowed, voice carrying over the water’s wrath, “be on the lookout for a boat, maybe even another body in the water, a girl.” The command hung in the air, a stark reminder of what was at stake. Draco struggled against the lethargy that threatened to consume him, his thoughts solely on Cass—resourceful, indomitable Cass—and the peril that now ensnared her. The waters could not be kind to one so fierce, yet so fragile. "Yes, Pa!" The boy's voice, with the same thick accent, cut through the din, the urgency of his task evident in his stance as he grappled with the ropes. He pivoted on his heel, seeking out his peer amidst the organized chaos. "Tommy! Eyes peeled—there's a girl adrift!" Draco's limbs, heavy with water and weariness, betrayed him as he attempted to rise once more. His mind raced, but his body lagged, bound by the gravity of his exhaustion. The man placed a steadying hand upon Draco's shoulder—a silent command to remain grounded. "Steady now," the man intoned, his voice the eye within a storm of panic. "The search is already underway. We'll find her, rest assured." His assurance was a balm, yet it did little to quell the tempest in Draco’s heart. The world around Draco swayed, a ship caught in the throes of a merciless sea. His head lolled back against the rough planks beneath him, the sky above melding into a swirl of grays and blues. The symphony of shouts and commands from the crew faded to a distant echo, as if he were sinking into the depths of a tranquil abyss. An overwhelming lassitude draped over his limbs like heavy chains, each attempt to move met with an invisible force, pressing him further into the embrace of the unyielding wood. The man’s voice pierced the gathering fog, a beacon fighting to reach him through the encroaching shadows. "Stay with us, lad." He tried to anchor himself to those words, to use them as a lifeline to claw back from the edge of unconsciousness. Yet, the darkness was relentless, a ravenous entity feasting on his dwindling strength. His eyes, once keen and alert, now betrayed him, their lids fluttering shut against his will. The last vestiges of light dimmed, surrendering to the inevitable night that crept over his senses. As the final threads of consciousness slipped from his grasp, the image of Cass—her bright green eyes alight with the thrill of discovery—flickered in his mind's eye. He reached for it, desperate to hold onto something real, something vital amidst the chaos. But the vision dissolved like mist, and Draco succumbed to the depths, his body motionless, yielding to the crushing tide of exhaustion. Darkness welcomed him home once again.