by Michael Cole
No one on deck moved a muscle until their leader was done sobbing and crying over the loss of his son.
When Daacad was able to gather himself and get to his feet, he looked at Tarabi.
“I want to know what that was,” he said. “I will not rest until I do.”
Tarabi nodded, and then waited as the man turned away, still clutching the arm, and walked up and into the bridge. He shouted at the other men to get to work and they scattered even though some had seniority over Tarabi. When he was sure no one was watching, Tarabi slipped below. Everyone was on the upper deck, so he was alone when he pulled the iPhone from his pocket. Despite its time in the seawater, there was still blood on it, stuck in the crevices between the hard case and the outer protection of the foam.
He double-checked that he was alone, and then turned on the phone. The video app came up immediately and Tarabi played the last video shot. He watched it over and over, listening to the surprised voices of Kaafi and Abshir as they watched the whale breach. It was on the eighth or ninth viewing that he noticed it: a shadow in the water close by the whale. He could tell by the angle of the sun that the shadow was not from the whale itself, but something just as large under the water’s surface. The shark.
He briefly thought of taking the phone to Daacad and showing him the video, but decided against it. Daacad would take the phone from him and keep it for himself. Tarabi couldn’t stomach the thought of losing it, not even to his gang leader. It was an iPhone! No, he would keep it for himself. He’d only ever had a flip phone, so he wasn’t quite sure how it worked, but he knew a guy back in Hilweyne that would.
There was a lot of activity back in port when the pirate mother ship docked, and Tarabi pushed the phone from his mind as he helped unload the hostages and drove them to the gang’s compound on the far side of Hilweyne. They were locked up and hooded so Daacad could make a quick video demanding ransom, or the container ship’s crew would be executed.
Once the hostages were secured, and Daacad was gone to tell his wives of the loss of his son, Tarabi took his chance and slipped from the compound. He walked to his destination instead of driving, not wanting one of the gang’s vehicles to be spotted and recognized. When he reached his intended destination, a small, rundown hut, he knocked softly on the rickety door. A couple minutes went by and then a small child opened up.
“Tell your father that Tarabi is here,” Tarabi said. The child just stared. “Now! Go!”
The child scurried away and was replaced by an angry looking man.
“Tarabi, what is this? Why do you scare my son?” a tall, thin man asked, his black skin marred by pock marks and scars. “And why are you here so late?”
“I have this,” Tarabi said, pulling out the iPhone, his smile like a child’s at Christmas. “I found it today.”
“Give me that!” the man snapped, yanking the iPhone from Tarabi’s grip. He started flipping through the settings and checking the apps. “You fool, this can be traced! You are lucky I know how to turn that off.”
“Oh,” Tarabi said, his face flushed with embarrassment, “I did not know.”
“Leave it with me a couple of days and I’ll make sure it is safe to give back,” the man said. “It’ll be like new.” He caught site of the blood that Tarabi never wiped off, but didn’t say anything. He knew whom he was dealing with.
“A couple days? That long?” Tarabi said, disappointed.
“Yes, I am a busy man,” the man said, waving Tarabi off. “I will send one of my children to fetch you when it is ready. Now go away, you have disrupted my evening.”
Tarabi thought about showing the man how disruptive he could make the evening, but stopped himself. He really wanted that iPhone. He couldn’t wait to see the looks on the other men’s faces when he pulled it out for the first time. He’d make sure it was spotless then.
“Fine,” Tarabi said reluctantly, “two days. If I do not hear from you by then, I will come back, and I won’t knock.”
“Yes, yes, I understand,” the man said, “goodnight, Tarabi.”
The door shut and Tarabi stalked off, his shoulders hunched with slight defeat.
The man inside waited until he was sure Tarabi was gone, and then turned and hurried over to a workbench on the far wall of the hut. His wife and children watched him as he undraped the bench to reveal a bank of computer monitors in various states of repair and disrepair. He pulled a box out from under the bench and searched until he found the right cord, plugging it into a desktop tower.
“Finish eating,” the man commanded his family, and they all turned back to their almost forgotten meal, sneaking glances here and there, as the man worked.
He brought up a program similar to iTunes. After a couple of minutes, he’d stripped off and copied everything from the iPhone. He then set it to reset and put it aside as he looked at the files he’d obtained. He shook his head as he scanned through the pictures of a white man and his family, the ship he had worked on, and other various aspects of his life. He was about to delete the files, then saw one was not a still, but a video.
The video came to life and he had to turn the volume down on his computer as Abshir’s voice echoed about the hut. He didn’t even notice his family crowding around him as he watched the video again and again, stunned at what he saw.
Mega is available from Amazon here!