The Revenge of Seven: HIDDEN POV's

7

Six's POV

(From Book)

Dale snaps to and turns off the engine, still not wanting to piss off Marina. Our boat drifts forward silently.

"What is it?" I ask.

"There's someone up ahead."

I hear it then, too. A motor – one that does a lot less hiccupping than Dale's – getting louder as it moves increasingly closer. With the zigzag pattern this tributary takes through the trees, we can't yet see this other boat.

"Are there other dirtbag swamp people out this far?" Nine asks, eyeballing Dale.

"Sometimes," Dale replies. He looks around at us, as if something has just occurred to him. "Now, hold on. Are we in danger? Because I didn't sign up for that."

"You didn't sign up for anything," Nine reminds him.

'Hush,' Marina snaps. 'Here they come.'

I could turn us invisible. It occurs to me to grab hold of Marina and Nine, use my Legacyand make it look like Dale's alone out here. But I don't. Marina and Nine don't look like they're in any mood to hold hands either.

If there are Mogadorians out there, we want this fight.

I watch a dark outline pass through the clutter of trees and glide into the water in front of us. It's a pontoon boat just like ours except much sleeker and probably with a few dozen less leaks. As soon as we come into view, the second boat also cuts its engine. It drifts about thirty yards in front of us, its wake causing us to bob on a gentle wave.

The boat is manned by three Mogadorians. Because of the heat, they've removed their stupid black leather trench coats and stripped down to tank tops, their arms shining pasty white, their blasters and daggers clearly visible along their belts. I wonder what they're doing out here, brazenly out in the open, and then realize that they're probably looking for us. After all, the swamps are our last known location. These unlucky Mog scouts must've drawn swamp duty.

Everyone is very still. We stare at the Mogs, and I wonder if they'll even recognize us in the state we're in. The Mogs stare back, not making any move to restart their boat and get out of our way.

'Friends of yours?' Dale slurs.

His voice breaks the standoff. In unison, two of the Mogs reach for their blasters, the third spinning around to restart their engine. I shove forward with my telekinesis, hitting the front of their boat with as much force as I can muster, causing the ship's bow to rise up from the water. The Mog going for the engine falls overboard, and the other two go staggering backwards.

A split second after my telekinetic attack, Marina leans over the side and plunges her hand into the swamp water. A sheet of ice spreads out from her towards the Mogs' boat, the water cracking and popping as it flash freezes. Their boat is stuck on a tilt, half out of the water, as the ice floe coalesces around it.

Nine's POV

I bound out of our boat, gracefully running across Marina's ice floe and hurdle over the side of the Mogs' boat. I grab the nearest Mog around the neck, his momentum and the boat's sloped deck causing us to stumble towards the boat's rear. The second Mog gets his blaster up and aims it at me, but before he can fire, I plant my feet and toss the first Mog at his buddy.

The scout who fell overboard tries to climb out of the water and onto Marina's patch of ice. That's a mistake. A jagged icicle rises from the floe's edge, impaling the Mogadorian. Before that Mog has even turned to ash, Six uses her telekinesis to tear the icicle through him and send it plunging into one of the Mogs on the boat. The final Mog, dagger drawn,charges at me, but I grab the Mog by the wrist, twist him backwards and stab him through the eye with his own blade.

Just like that, it's over. The whole fight lasted less than a minute. Even as dysfunctional as we seem right now, we can still kill the hell out of some Mogs.

"Now that was refreshing!" I yell, grinning at Six.

I hear splashing from over my shoulder and turn around just in time to see Dale swimming frantically through the swamp water. He must have jumped overboard, and now he's dog-paddling away from us as fast as his scrawny arms and drunkenness will allow.

"Where are you going, idiot?" Six shouts after him.

Dale reaches a muddy outcropping of roots and pulls himself on to it, gasping for breath. He stares at me and the others with wide, wild eyes.

"You people are freaks!" he screams.

"That's not very nice," I say, laughing, as I carefully make my way back on to Dale's boat, the ice floe Marina created already beginning to melt in the Florida heat.

"What about your boat?" Six shouts to Dale. "You gonna swim back to Trapper's?"

He squints at me. "I'll figure something out that don't involve mutant powers, thank you very much."

Six sighs and raises her hand, intending to telekinetically drag Dale's stupid ass back on to his boat, but Marina touches her shoulder and stops her.

"Let him go,'" she says.

"But we need him to find the base," Six replies.

"We're close enough," Marina says, shaking her head. "And besides –"

"Uh, holy shit," I interrupt, shielding my eyes and staring up at the sky.

"I think we can just follow that thing," Marina finishes.