Archipelago N.Y.: Flynn

by Todorov, Vladimir

  It was a feast that could feed twenty people, but it was all laid out on the table exclusively for her! She had not touched any of it, though… How could she, when her stomach was a tight knot of nerves? She couldn’t even look at the table any more. Every time she did, she felt sick…Closing her eyes, Madison reached out and snatched a few grapes from a plate. She then crossed the room and slumped down on the big leather couch. In her feet was the small wicker basket she had brought with her. Slowly, she lifted its cloth cover, and a grey pigeon stuck its head out. She lowered her hand and the bird started to peck hungrily at the grapes. Madison smiled at her little friend, then leaned back and sank into the soft cushions of the couch.

  Madison rubbed her temples, trying to stay awake. She had not slept a wink in twenty-four hours, and it was becoming harder to remain alert. Again, she went over the events of what had happened… Leo had brought her to this room and left her alone, but only after they had exchanged words… words which were still ringing in her ears…

  Leo had spoken first in his usual, unnerving drawl: “I’ll be completely honest with you, Madison,” he had begun, “there’re two reasons you’re here tonight… First, it’s because I want the Perry boy kicked out of the Trials…”

  Shocked at hearing this, Madison had cried, “You can’t do that!” and then, “Duncan Roth’s the only one who can.”

  “Ah, you’re absolutely correct!” Leo had chuckled softly. “When you don’t show up at the Trials, he’ll have no other choice, but to disqualify your friend.”

  Hearing this, Madison had felt her eyes well up with hot tears, but she had dug her nails into her palms and stopped herself from crying. “So, what’s the second reason?” Madison had managed to ask through clenched teeth.

  “The second reason you’re here,” Leo had continued, getting uncomfortably close to her, “is because I find you absolutely irresistible…I won’t touch you until we’re officially paired, but you’re my property now… the future Mrs. Leo Van Zandt!”

  Stunned and lost for words, Madison had stood there, unable to respond. The urge to cry had been even stronger than before. This time she had bitten her lip, drawing blood, but she had not shed a single tear in front of Leo Van Zandt.

  “Enjoy your dinner, beautiful,” Leo had said, walking out the door. “I’ll see you in the morning… And don’t forget the Departure List comes out in forty-eight hours.”

  As if Madison could forget such a thing… Worried sick about Flynn and her parents, she had paced the room up and down, all night long. She had gone over how things might play out between her and Leo upon his return… Madison knew he was somewhere in his vast apartment... possibly lurking behind that very door… It was part of the sick mind games he was playing! Trying to wear her down… Leo’s intentions toward her were more than clear now, and if Madison had been any other girl on the Archipelago, she would have been extremely flattered… But she wasn’t! In fact, being paired with Leo and becoming his wife was the worst thing she could imagine. It made her skin crawl.

  Of course, her first impulse had been to reject him right away... to tell him to get lost! And then what? A little voice had spoken in her head… Condemn her parents? Jeopardize Flynn's situation even further? No! The price was too high … As much as the thought of being with Leo repulsed her, Madison knew she had no choice. She would have to give in to his demands… Or could she trick him somehow? Convince him that she would go along with everything he wanted… Make him believe she was willing to be his? But Madison was so tired now… tired to the point where she felt like she might agree to just about anything in exchange for a few hours of proper rest…

  Madison sank deeper into the couch and prayed Tony had read her message… and that Flynn had been allowed to compete… Her eyelids started to close. A minute later, her body went limp and Madison was asleep, having finally surrendered to exhaustion.

  FOURTEEN

  “Here!” Tony said and lifted his eyes from the map. “This is our spot, amigo.”

  Flynn slowed down and let the Seeker glide until it bumped gently into the concrete wall of the Trump Building. He secured the raft and looked around.

  They were on Wall Street Canal, which had been cleared from traffic because of the Trials. There was just one more raft moored nearby. It belonged to Pharrell and Clay… But Pharrell wasn't on it any more, just his Crew Mate furiously pumping air down to his diving bell. Suddenly, shouts and whistles could be heard above their heads as the other rafts began to arrive. Flynn looked up. Spectators had gathered along the rooftops and walkways, cheering and clapping their hands. Hoping to see his father, Flynn quickly scanned the crowd… but Alan Perry wasn’t there.

  Flynn checked the weights under his diving bell, lowered the contraption in the water and let it sink. He had already greased his body with seal fat and was ready to dive. “All set!” Flynn called out to Tony as he fastened his harness and adjusted his pouch. “No time to waste. Let me look at the map again.” He studied the map for a moment, shoved it in his harness and said, “Remember to save your energy! Only pump when I pull the hose. I'll be fine!” Flynn gave his friend the thumbs up sign, and Tony did the same. They had practiced this so many times, that it was like second nature to them both. Flynn snapped his goggles on, stood still at the edge of the raft for a moment, and dived in.

  Luckily, their assigned target was in fairly shallow waters, and the bright sunlight penetrated deep enough for Flynn to see clearly the outlines of the buildings below. He went straight down past his diving bell. Pharrell's bell was swaying not too far away and appeared to be empty. Flynn reached the pile of mangled vehicles that littered the submerged street and slowed down his dive. He took out the map and switched on his flashlight. Flynn glanced at the murky silhouette of a building, a few yards to the left. According to the map, his target was supposed to be in there, and Flynn could only hope he had read the co-ordinates right.

  Kicking his feet, Flynn swam under the fallen traffic light that was in his way, and in a matter of seconds, found himself at the building’s entrance. Flynn shone his light at the sign above the door. Like everything else around him, it was covered in barnacles and weeds, but he could still make out what it said: New York Stock Exchange! Yes, he had definitely found his the location of his target!

  Unfortunately, the entrance was blocked by a heap of twisted metal, so Flynn turned back, looking for another way in. Suddenly, a faint light appeared in one of the windows to his right. He saw a shadow emerge quickly out of it, and then the big white grin of Pharrell Lewis as he glided past him. The boy gave him the thumbs up and swam toward his bell. So, Pharrell had located his target and was now in the lead, thought Flynn, his heart sinking a little. He looked back at the black hole from where Pharrell had exited the building and decided not to go back for more air…Without wasting any more precious time, Flynn went straight in.

  A dark and cavernous space opened up before him with a row of kiosks, buried under rubble and tangled cables. Flynn's beam bounced off the broken monitors covering the sides of the kiosks. Tubes came out of the tops, connecting the kiosks to a rusted pipeline, hanging from the ceiling. To Flynn, the place looked no different than any other underwater site. He had scavenged such buildings many times over. He checked his map again, and swam past the kiosks, looking at the numbers stenciled on their monitor screens. According to the map, he had to find a kiosk with the number 17 on it. Stopping at the one marked 10, Flynn then began to count seven spaces down, until he had found what he was looking for. The glass on the monitor screen was gone and it was now just a dark box. According to the map, his target had to be inside!

  That was easy, Flynn thought. Without hesitating, he plunged his hand through the screen’s hole. His fingers touched the bottom and started groping for the target. Suddenly, they fell on a small object. His target! Grabbing it, Flynn tried to pull it out, but the object didn’t move. Something soft and very much alive was holding the target down. A second later, Flynn felt his
hand locked in a tight grip. And then, a sharp pain shot through his wrist. He winced and tried to pull his arm out of the hole, but whatever had caught him wouldn’t let go. It was now tugging hard at his hand, pulling it back in. Trapped against the kiosk, Flynn realized that he was struggling to hold his breath! He knew that panic was every diver’s worst enemy…he had to stay calm, or all would be lost!

  Anchoring his feet at the base of the kiosk and using all his strength, Flynn managed to pull his arm out. But it came wrapped in a bundle of bright red tentacles, followed by the bulbous body of a giant octopus. Still clutching the target, Flynn realized that his fingers were dangerously close to the hard beak of the octopus' mouth. An inch or two, and his hand would be gone! Duncan Roth had warned them about surprises… Well, this was a very nasty one… and potentially lethal, Flynn thought as he reached for his diving knife. In one swift move, he had pulled the blade from his harness and was slashing at the tentacles. The octopus let go of his hand and furiously jetted away in a cloud of black ink. But the brief struggle had caused Flynn to lose his grip on the target. It was now attached to one of the tentacles and slipping quickly out of his reach. Waving the knife blindly at the murky ink cloud, Flynn managed to slice the tentacle off and grab it before it had disappeared together with the octopus.

  Clutching Duncan Roth’s target, Flynn swam out of the building, his ears ringing and his lungs screaming for air. He had spent too much time at the bottom. Now, he had to get up to the bell as quickly as possible, or risk drowning. Surfacing under its dome and having taken a deep breath of air, Flynn let out a loud cry of relief. He knew he had just cheated death. A few more seconds, and he would have been gone! Flynn pulled the hose, waiting for more fresh air to come in, thanking Tony and his lucky stars for the second time that day.

  With his breathing back to normal, Flynn removed the remaining bits of tentacle still stuck to his wrist. Then he took a closer look at the target. It was a small, purple glass bottle… Nothing special, he thought, but to him it was the most valuable scavenged find, ever! Careful not to drop it, Flynn put the target in his pouch, making sure it was safely tucked inside. Now it was time to get back to the surface and finish the race… Flynn pulled the hose again to let Tony know he was coming up, took one final deep breath and swam out.

  He had only made a couple of strokes when he saw that Pharrell’s diving bell was moving. But instead of going up, the bell was sinking slowly toward the bottom! Its oxygen supply hose had been cut and left to dangle, a spray of air bubbles shooting out of its severed end. Flynn caught a glimpse of a boy swimming away, but he knew immediately it wasn’t his friend… Someone, half the size of Pharrell, had just destroyed the bell and was now making a quick escape.

  Flynn looked back at the partially collapsed bell and to his horror, realized it wasn’t empty. There was a body trapped inside…And it could only be Pharrell, Flynn thought! As he got closer, he saw his friend kicking, trying frantically to get out. Without thinking, Flynn dove after the bell. Seconds later, he was slashing at the mangled dome with his knife. Somehow, Pharrell was able to push free, his eyes bulging, bubbles of air gurgling out of his mouth and nose. Flynn knew there was no time to get to the surface. He grabbed Pharrell's hand and using all of his remaining strength, managed to swim back to the safety of his own diving bell.

  Once inside, it took a good minute before Pharrell stopped coughing and gasping for air. “Thanks bro!” he finally said, his eyes full of gratitude. “You could've left me there!”

  “Yeah, right! Did you see who did this to you?”

  “No man, I was inside the bell! Just saw a blade slice through the plastic, and then water started pouring in… Next thing I know, the bell was taking me down!”

  “Got your target?” Flynn asked.

  Pharrell nodded. “Had to fight an eel for it, though.”

  “The Rottweiler didn't make it easy, did he?” Flynn looked at his wrist, still swollen from the tentacle’s suckers.

  “He sure as hell didn’t.” Pharrel showed him the red welt on his forearm. “Booby trapped those targets real nice.”

  They both laughed.

  “Let's get out of here!” Pharrel said.

  Flynn swam out and up towards the surface, followed by his friend. Their heads popped up at the same time, a few feet away from their rafts. Pharrell swam toward his, where Clay was kneeling over the severed air hose and clearly in a state of sheer panic.

  “I’m OK!” Pharrell called out to his Crew Mate. “I’m safe, bro!”

  The look of relief on Clay’s face was indescribable.

  “Race ya, Perry!” Pharrell shouted over his shoulder.

  “All the way, pal!”

  Flynn scanned the canal and spotted another head bobbing in the water, not far from the Seeker. It was one of the Gallagher twins, staring after Pharrell. The boy caught Flynn's eyes, frowned and swam quickly back to his own raft. Flynn wondered if he was the one who had knifed Pharrell’s diving bell. And then, it struck him how lucky they had been. The Gallagher twin could have destroyed Flynn’s bell too… But there was no time to dwell on any of that... every second was precious… Shaking his head to get the water out of his ears and with a few powerful strokes, Flynn was back to his raft.

  “You OK, amigo? Got the target?” asked Tony, his voice full of concern.

  “Yeah!” Flynn hoisted himself up and jumped on the seat with his diving gear still on.

  “What was all that about?” Tony pointed towards Pharrell's raft. “His buddy went nuts!”

  “Someone tried to kill Pharrell,” said Flynn, his feet on the pedals. “Let's go.”

  As soon as Tony sat down next to him, Flynn started pedaling. Pharrell’s raft was already a fair distance ahead of them. The Seeker chased in its wake. The other teams were not too far behind, and finishing in the top three was going to be tough! Flynn knew Pharrell would be taking a break now, while his Crew Mate was strong and rested. It would be Clay plowing ahead on the pedals. Then, the two boys would switch… Flynn had to do it all on his own. Tony was in no shape to take turns. But as tired as Flynn felt, he was going to do his best to catch up to Pharrell. The raft ahead was gaining speed, but so was the Seeker.

  FIFTEEN

  “Let me take over for a bit,” Tony pleaded with Flynn, ten minutes into the race. “You're exhausted!”

  “I’m fine! You’ve done more than enough,” Flynn said as he pushed harder on the pedals. Pharrell's raft was heading down Broad Street Canal, clearly in the lead now. Chasing after him was not going to work, and Flynn knew it. “We'll take a short cut!” he said, making a sharp right turn.

  Flynn managed to swerve into a narrow alleyway between two buildings. It was so tight that the sides of the Seeker scraped the walls. At the end of the short stretch, Flynn took a left into another alleyway, then right again. He kept zigzagging like that for a while, skirting round corners. Tony had gone extremely quiet. Flynn glanced at his friend and saw that his face had turned green, his knuckles white from squeezing the edge of his seat.

  “You gonna be sick?”

  “I'll be fine, amigo,” Tony said through clenched teeth. “Keep going!”

  “Hang in there! One more turn … and we're out!”

  Flynn pressed ahead. His legs felt like they were on fire, but he tried to ignore the burning pain. As he exited the narrow alley and was about to rejoin the race path, Flynn caught a sharp movement with the corner of his eye. Seconds later, something rammed the Seeker from behind and spun the raft around. Suddenly, Flynn found himself face to face with the Gallagher twins.

  “You crazy?” Flynn yelled as he fought to regain control of his raft.

  Both Gallaghers seemed possessed with unspeakable rage… There was a look of sheer madness in their eyes as they backed up for another attack on the Seeker. The twins worked their pedals like a well-oiled machine, and within seconds another violent blow followed the first. The force of the impact sent Flynn's raft crashing against the wall be
hind. Losing his balance, Tony was thrown out of his seat. Just as he was about to fall overboard, Flynn grabbed him by the belt of his shorts and yanked him back. The Seeker was now pinned between the wall and the Gallagher raft. One of the twins jumped from his seat, a long spear in his hand.

  “Hand over the target and your map, Perry!” The boy stood legs apart, pointing the spear at Flynn.

  “Don't be stupid, man! You know you won't get away with this!”

  “Oh yeah?” the Gallagher twin growled. He flicked his wrist, and the spear went through one of the barrels supporting Flynn's raft. The boy withdrew the spear and water rushed immediately into the jagged hole. “I'm gonna sink your sorry ass!” The Gallagher twin aimed his spear at the next barrel and yelled, “Here goes...!”

  Flynn's eyes darkened. He clenched and unclenched his fists. The twins were tough and strong… Fighting both of them was out of the question. The twin poked another hole in the barrel. Laughing hard, he was now taking aim to do it again. Flynn's body tensed, ready for action.

  As if reading his mind, Tony whispered, “Flynn, don't!”

  But Flynn ignored his friend’s warning. He had his eyes focused on the spear and the hand holding it.

  “This should do it, now,” cried the twin as the spear flew in the air for the third time.

  But Flynn was faster… He sprang up and caught the weapon, spun around and in one swift movement slashed the ropes holding the front barrels under the Gallagher raft.

  It all took less than a second. The twins didn’t even have the time to cry out as Flynn placed his foot on their raft and kicked its hull away from the Seeker. Freed from the ropes, the barrels began to float off, leaving the Gallagher raft to tilt dangerously without their support. There was a loud snap as the front end of the twins’ platform broke apart and collapsed on itself. Arms flailing, the twins lost their footing, slid down the deck and with a loud splash, both fell into the water.