“Say good-bye to this world, you sonofabitch.”
“GLRZHKZZZT,” gargles the octopus, struggling for air.
There’s an ax strapped just underneath the gunwale, and before I can process the decision to free it I’m already wielding it in my hand. I wrap the noose around my left hand and bring the ax down with all my might, grunting a murderous yowl. The octopus rolls on his side and I bury the blade deep into the deck.
“Lily!” I need both hands to free the ax, so Lily takes up the slack. She pulls at the rope, wrapping it around a cleat bolted to the deck. I pull at the ax, wiggling it free of its vise. Lily runs back around the octopus and pulls at his pant leg, again tightening the noose. I raise the ax again, taking aim at his one octopus arm. This time the blade connects, severing the arm with a deafening squish.
The octopus screams in pain.
He kicks Lily, who sails into the bulwark. There is just enough slack in the rope for him to scramble to his feet as I struggle to free the ax from the deck. Lily, stunned, shakes herself upright. The octopus limps starboard and turns back to look at us one last time.
“Be seeing you, governor,” he says. Just as I free the ax, he calmly tosses himself off the side.
Lily barks and we both rush to the edge, expecting to see him hanging from his broken neck. Instead, he gasps and spits and chokes, hanging from the rope, his legs submerged in water below the knee. The ocean bubbles around him as he thrashes, and he’s engulfed in a cloud of purple smoke. We can just make out his two legs becoming four, then five, then six. His upper body loosens as he fully retakes octopus form, and the last thing we see is his look of spite and hatred as he again becomes an invertebrate, slipping out of his noose.
Drowning
Fuck!” I spin around, grasping for a plan. One of us will regroup first, and I’d rather it be us than him. C’mon, focus. Focus! We cannot be so close to victory just to stagger backward into defeat. But the octopus has the home field advantage. We need a miracle. I look at the spot that held the ax and something bright catches my eye. Farther down the ship’s side wall is an orange case. I race for it and pry it free. My knuckles are cold and achy. My fingers tremble in fear and anticipation. I struggle to open the case, but when I do we are rewarded. Inside are two flare guns.
Lily barks portside. The sea erupts and an octopus arm emerges over the side, jerking the boat counterclockwise. I’m alarmed at the sheer size of it, at this monster’s ability to grow. Lily charges fearlessly at the arm, retreating only when a second arm emerges to pierce the windows of the cabin and send flames shooting over the deck. I grab the guns and charge the octopus as he rips a hole in the side of the yacht and we start taking on water.
We have only one chance—to make it back to our boat, where we at least have the advantage of the trawls. Fishful Thinking floats calmly a good thirty feet away, safely out of reach of the fire. We can’t jump. We can’t traverse a plank. The only way to get to her is to swim. We have to enter the water, and to do so we must distract the octopus.
I whistle for Lily and slap my hand against my thigh. She immediately comes running and I crouch, catching her as she leaps into my arms; she hasn’t moved this nimbly in years. I set the gun case down just long enough to untether Fishful Thinking from the sinking, burning yacht. Then I grasp Lily tight, grab one of the guns, and shout in the most pathetic and terrified voice I can muster. “Hey, octopus! I give up. You want her? You can have her. I don’t want to drown!”
The octopus has spent enough time with us now to wonder if, when truly pressed, I’m not just this selfish. He raises his eye into view to see if my offer is true. Instead of seeing Lily outstretched in offering, he’s staring down the barrel of my flare gun.
“Fuck you, you piece of shit.” I pull the trigger.
The octopus is already retreating into the water as the flare strikes him like a lightning bolt on the top of his head. He makes a sound like a pile of hissing, screaming snakes as he sinks below the surface. Flames shatter another window in the cabin and broken glass explodes against the deck.
“We have to go. Now!” I drop the gun and hug Lily tight and we dive off the starboard side toward Fishful Thinking. I kick hard and try to cover as much of the distance underwater as I can. When we surface, I paddle furiously with one arm as Lily kicks with her short little legs. We have maybe ten feet to go. Behind us there’s an explosion aboard the Owe Too, the flames having finally reached the engines.
The rope the octopus had tossed earlier inviting us aboard hangs off the side of our fishing boat. I give it a good tug. It’s still secured tightly to the cleat. I grab on and lift us as high as I can out of the water before boosting Lily the rest of the way. She scrambles over our
