Lost Witness

by Rebecca Forster

  "They're bruised. I can breathe. I can talk. What more do you want from me, Tala?"

  Billy took her hand, but instead of pushing it away he held onto it, using it as leverage as he threw his legs over the narrow bed and pulled himself up. Tala pulled her hand away, miffed at his nonsense, but unable to hide just the hint of a smile in her black eyes. He grinned and held his arms out determined not to show her that his rib cage felt like it was broken in a hundred places.

  "See? Good as new. I had a great nurse."

  "Big man." Tala turned away.

  "I didn't think you noticed." Billy retrieved his jeans and pulled them on slowly. Each time he lifted his leg he moaned and Tala raised a brow. Billy gave her a look of resignation. "Okay, dude, maybe I'm not a hundred percent."

  "Americans are weird. You call a woman dude," Tala laughed.

  "Where I come from — well, where I grew up — everybody is called dude," Billy said as he put on his shirt. "Tala. There, is that better?"

  Tala's face clouded at the affection in his voice. She grabbed her backpack.

  "Dude's good. We're both mates."

  "Yeah, mates - at least until we get a ship. Then you'll be the boss because you're the real deal. A mariner. Very impressive." Billy nodded toward her duffle stashed in the corner. "I saw your papers."

  Tala's anger was swift and fierce. Her lips pulled together as she crossed the small room, pushing Billy aside.

  "Hey, that hurt," Billy said.

  "You're lucky I don't kill you."

  She pulled up her duffle, went through her papers and then, when she had assured herself that all was in order, stuffed them back inside. The zipper sounded like an animal’s teeth taking a bite out of him when she pulled it shut.

  "You don't touch my stuff," she said. "You don't touch me. You got it?"

  "Hey. Hey. I'm not going to touch you. I wouldn't touch you if you were the last woman on earth." Billy buckled his belt before planting himself back on the bed. "And don't go all bitchy on me. When I woke up, I didn't know what the situation was. You better believe I was going to find out who you were."

  "I took care of you. That should have been enough to know," Tala said.

  "Well, it wasn't." Billy pulled his shirt over his head and shook back his hair. His hand went to the lump on his skull. "Damn that hurts. What'd they use? A crow bar."

  He reached for his boots and dragged them over, but when he bent to put them on he couldn't breathe and sat up straight again. He took three breaths in quick succession and then kept talking. Each word was a chore, but he wasn't going to let her put him on his heels.

  "I've been places where I thought people were going to help me, and I got screwed big time. And so did. . ."

  He paused as if it was hard to breathe, but this time it was just hard to speak the name of someone who meant so much to him.

  "It doesn't matter. She’s dead. She's gone. She doesn't have to worry anymore about people hurting her, but I'm not going to let it happen to me. No way. Never again. And I'm not going to let some chick put me in harm's way just 'cause she thinks she's God's gift."

  Once more he went for his boot and again his bruised ribs sent a flash of pain around his torso. Billy tried to fill his lungs, but when that proved impossible, he put his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his upturned hands.

  Tala Reyes looked on dispassionately, one hand on her hip, her legs splayed. If Billy had been looking at her, though, he would have seen a softening in her eyes; if he had paid close attention he would have seen her chest cave just a little to protect a heart that knew all too well how painful life could be.

  Without a word Tala crossed the room, put her hands on his shoulders and righted him. She got on her knees, took one of his boots, and tapped his leg.

  "Lift."

  Billy did as he was told. Tala tapped his other leg. Again he lifted his foot and put it into the boot. Tala pulled the laces tight and double knotted them. When she was done, Tala sat back on her heels and looked him in the eyes.

  "I have a dead friend, too."

  Tala got up, and tossed his bag at him. She hefted her backpack over one shoulder and her duffle over the other.

  "We're out of money. We need work. You can come or not."

  "I'm coming."

  Billy put on his cap and followed her out of the room and down the narrow hallway that smelled of people whose only home was on whatever ship would give them a bunk. Tala passed the attendant who looked up when she put the key on the desk. If they returned he would give it back since they had paid for two more nights, if they didn't then he would be that much richer. Tala opened the door and walked out into the bright sunlight of Manila, pausing to squint at the cloudless sky as she waited for Billy. When he joined her, he asked:

  "Which way?"

  She raised a hand indicating the port. They walked side by side, moving this way and that to accommodate a bicycle or pedestrians or the errant motorcycle rider who decided the sidewalk was faster than the street. Trucks and cars honked as if that might miraculously untangle the traffic jams. The sounds of the city eventually mingled with those of the seaport. Through it all Billy kept pace with Tala Reyes, giving her no quarter, refusing to bow to what she believed was her righteous indignation. But Billy had read her wrong. Tala was not angry. Tala held no grudge against him. She knew he had been right to do what he did. She would have done the same.

  "I didn't mean it," she said as they approached the piers.

  "What?" Billy said.

  "About not touching me," Tala said, eyes forward, walking a little faster once the words were out of her mouth. Billy kept pace with her, fighting the urge not to smile. He said:

  "Yeah, well I didn't mean what I said either."

  Both of them threw their shoulders back and picked up the pace. It was time to find that ship that would take them away from Manila together.

  29

  Day 3 @12:30 A.M

  The Boston Whaler rode with the tide: listing side to side, rising up and down at the whim of the water. Hannah sat next to Jamal, one arm around his shoulders, urging him to look to the horizon.

  "It's dark," he said, fighting his seasickness. "I can't see the horizon."

  "Okay," Hannah said. "Look at the port. Any point of light. Really, it will be better if you can focus on something."

  Hannah patted his broad back as he did a quarter turn and raised his face to the wind. She looked at Billy and pulled a sympathetic face. Billy understood, but he couldn't commiserate. Too much was at stake. Jamal alive and well was a good thing, but seasick and cranky he was a danger. When Hannah realized that Billy was worried, she shook her head at his stubbornness. Jamal wouldn't be in this condition if it weren't for Billy, the least he could do would be to pretend he cared. She lowered her voice and the last thing Billy heard was her saying:

  "It's okay. Really. . . It will all be okay. . ."

  Billy was alone on the stern checking out the troops he had drafted. Hannah was getting cold feet too, and the right words from Jamal might convince her that they should turn around. Miguel looked scared to death. Sparkle was holding it together, but if he had to guess it wouldn't take much for her to bow out of this rescue operation too. He would be powerless against a mutiny, and if the truth be told he was scared too.

  Billy looked at the receding port lights. The wind was unrelenting and everyone who had a collar had popped it against the cold. Sparkle's low-cut blouse wasn't meant for such weather, so she had found a tarp and wrapped it around herself. When Hannah came alongside him and put her arm through his, Billy smiled because it felt right; that was the only thing that felt right. Her hair blew behind her; her nose was red with the cold. She looked beautiful.

  "We're going to leave Jamal on the boat with Miguel," Billy said.

  "Without him, it's just Sparkle and me. The two of us aren't enough to fight off even one man if he's really ticked off, what could we do against fifteen? We need Jamal if for no other reason than
he's just really scary to look at."

  Billy had to admit, Hannah was right. There were people on the Faret Vild that would rather kill Billy than let him take Tala Reyes off that ship. If they were willing to do that, then making a few strangers disappear wouldn't matter.

  Hannah tugged on his arm, and steered him toward the bow where Miguel guided the boat and Sparkle stood by his side, her eyes on the Faret Vild. Billy and Hannah joined them.

  "You guys okay?" Billy asked.

  "Better than Jamal," Sparkle answered.

  "Billy thinks we need to leave him here with Miguel," Hannah said. "I don't think we can take a chance."

  "He's sick." Billy glanced at the big man-sitting ramrod straight, head up, eyes forward, and hands gripping the side of the boat.

  "Look," Hannah said, tearing her eyes away from Jamal as they all huddled. "The only way this works is if we can distract everyone on that ship long enough for Billy to get on unnoticed, right?"

  "Right," Billy said.

  "Then we have to create enough confusion, or activity, or whatever long enough for you to get where you need to go. Jamal will keep his back to the gangway, you stay low, and Sparkle and me will get everyone turned around and headed into the interior of that thing. That's the plan, and I say we stick to it."

  "But what if Jamal does freak or they get in his face?" Sparkle asked.

  "He won't. He can do it," Hannah answered.

  "If he can manage not to barf," Billy said.

  "I know it looks bad, but he'll bring it. I promise," Hannah said. "Once he's on the big ship he'll be fine."

  "And you know what to do if something goes wrong?" Billy said.

  "We've got our phones. We get to the deck, turn on the flashlight and wink it out a couple times," Sparkle said. "You're pretty sure we're just going to be on that top deck, right?"

  "They won't take you further than deck two, but the cabin configurations are the same. Just remember if you're facing the front, the port will be on your left. You run like hell, get through the first door you come to, get out in the open and flash those lights. If you can see the gangway, you're good. Hightail it down that thing and Miguel will be waiting."

  "Is that enough, Miguel? Will you be watching?" Sparkle wanted confirmation.

  "As long as nobody else is flashing lights at me," Miguel said.

  "Don't forget that you have to get on that radio and send an SOS, Miguel. Got it?" Billy said. Miguel nodded. "And you three stick together like glue. Jamal needs to negotiate hard for your fees or something ,anything to give me a solid fifteen minutes."

  "We can make that happen," Hannah said. "If the captain doesn't want to haggle, Sparkle and I can throw a fit about something."

  "Okay. Just don't you let them separate you. I don't want anything to happen to you."

  Sparkle snorted. "I think it's a given something's going to happen to us since we're trying to hijack a giant boat."

  "No, we're not. We're going to find Tala and run. I don't care what happens to anybody else onboard. Just her," Billy said.

  They nodded and murmured, assuring Billy they understood that Tala Reyes needed their help. They were the ones who had to rescue her because they were nobodies in the grand scheme of things. The important people wanted nothing to do with nobodies.

  "What if Tala isn't there? In her cabin, I mean," Hannah asked.

  "I'll go to the infirmary. If she's not there, then I head for the captain's quarters. After that, I don't know. It could be she's dea–"

  "Hey," Sparkle barked. "One step at a time. First we get on. Next, you find your girl. Third we get the hell off that ship. That's all we gotta do."

  Billy smiled at her, but it was Jamal who said:

  "Piece of cake."

  He stood tall, clutching the canopy post, swaying with the boat. His dreads flew around his face, but he wouldn't let go of the post to corral them. Hannah was the one who pushed his hair out of the way and took his arm. He looked down at her and her face tilted up toward his.

  "I knew you were trouble the second I saw you," he said. "But this sure a lot of it."

  "Still time to say no," she said.

  Jamal shook his head.

  "Better to go down together if that's what's going to happen."

  "It won't."

  Hannah put her head against his arm. Jamal pressed his lips to her hair and closed his eyes. It was their moment and everything else disappeared: the ocean, the boat, and Billy. Especially Billy. Then the moment blew away.

  "Thank you," Billy said to Jamal.

  He raised his eye to the Faret Vild, a huge hulking mass sitting solidly on the troubled sea, lights shining on the bridge, running lights blinking on the stern, and football fields of dark in between. A hundred yards to their right, a Coast Guard cutter bobbed at anchor. Below deck was lit up, but Billy saw no watch on the bow. In fact, there was no sign of life at all. It was Hannah who read his mind.

  "There's got to be someone on board," Hannah said.

  "Maybe they went to sleep," Sparkle suggested as she checked out the boat.

  "It doesn't matter why it's quiet. Either this will work or it won't. We'll know soon enough if they hear the transmission, but there's no other way to get on the Faret Vild."

  "Then let's hope they're sleeping," Hannah said.

  None of them knew what the protocol was on a cutter or how many crew might be on board. There would be a hundred opportunities for them to detect the Peanut. Merely motoring into the dark space between the cutter and the container ship would make them sitting ducks; waiting for the gangway to be lowered would make it all worse. Then again, the audacity of their straight shot might be enough to keep them safe. Billy picked up the radio receiver and held it out to Miguel.

  "Call the Faret Vild. Keep it short."

  Miguel and Billy traded places: Miguel took the radio and Billy the wheel. Billy started the engines and the boat began to move forward slowly. Miguel depressed the call button, his gaze latching onto Sparkle's as he did so. When she gave him a slight nod, when her lips tipped up in encouragement, he said.

  "Faret Vild. This is Peanut. Lower your gangway for a love boat. Faret Vild. The love boat is coming."

  Miguel took his finger off the button. Billy kept the Peanut on course, closing the distance faster than he intended, cruising dark, the throttle low. Closer and closer they went, their attention split between the cutter on the right and the Faret Vild ahead; one state of the art, the other a dystopian fortress of rusting steel. They all narrowed their eyes against the wind, searching for any sign of welcome. The gangway remained tucked tight against the ship.

  "Call again," Billy said. Miguel shook his head. Billy insisted. "Do it."

  "No," Miguel said.

  Billy took the radio out of his hand. Billy wasn't angry with the man. All of them had a lot to lose, but no one had as much as the woman on that ship.

  "Faret Vild. This is Peanut. Lower your gangway for the love boat."

  Billy flipped off the radio as he kept one hand on the wheel. Jamal put his arm around Hannah, and Hannah reached for Sparkle's hand. They all counted the seconds by their heartbeats. One, two, three. . .

  Billy cut the engine and the boat floated.

  The gangway didn't move.

  The choppy water pushed the Peanut closer still.

  All eyes turned up to look at the ship that towered above them. A second later the gangway jerked forward and back, clicking up before it began to lower. Down and down it came until finally it locked in place. A mate appeared on deck, looked at them, and then hurried down the metal ramp. From the way he moved Billy knew it was Bojan. On the deck above Adeano Bianchi, wanting first pick of the ladies just as Billy hoped he would, stood waiting. Billy kept his back turned, knowing the canopy shadowed him.

  Bojan caught the tether Miguel threw out, and the Peanut was attached to the Faret Vild a second later. Sparkle was lifted onto the gangway first, then Hannah. Jamal leapt from the boat and clamored up afte
r the women, not wanting them to have a moment alone. Miguel watched until the knot of people disappeared, leaving the upper deck deserted.

  "They're gone," Miguel called as the rope unfurled and the Peanut started to float away from the big ship.

  Billy ran the length of the whaler and threw himself at the gangway before the Peanut could drift further. His timing was perfect, his landing solid. Billy, smirked, pleased that things were going so well, but before he could make for the deck everything changed.

  The gangway lurched before he had his footing and Billy threw himself forward, trying to latch onto the railings to keep him from falling. He missed, belly-flopping, sliding toward the water as the gangway began to move in earnest. Frantically, Billy clawed at the ramp, until he found some footing on one of the raised pieces of metal that ran horizontally over the surface of the ramp creating narrow footholds. Holding on by his fingertips, prone on the ramp, his legs whipped this way and that. Below the sea churned. If he fell, Hannah and Sparkle, Jamal and Tala would be trapped onboard. With a primal scream, Billy used every ounce of strength he had and pulled himself up, his shoes scraping against the surface made slick with the sea mist.

  One.

  Two.

  Three times his arms strained. His lungs burned with the effort. The gangway was folding up and in upon itself, but miraculously it got stuck again. This time it was long enough for Billy to gain traction. Knowing it was now or never, Billy launched himself forward, clambering up and over the layers of metal that clamped down upon one another like an accordion. Finally he leapt from the gangway at the last moment, hitting the deck before he was crushed.

  Rolling against the wall, Billy wasted no time. He ran and looked over the side of the ship, gave a wave to Miguel, and, as the Peanut moved away from the Faret Vild, Billy ran into the ship.

  Even though the night was cold, the wind was up, and the marine layer was thick, Miguel was sweating as he maneuvered the boat around the bow of the massive ship. Alone on the dark night, surrounded by the black sea, in the even blacker shadow of the Faret Vild, and couched in the misty marine layer, he felt like the last man on earth and the stupidest. He was a fool for a woman. Sparkle had said please and here he was. Here they all were, fools for women: Jamal and Hannah, Billy and this woman Tala Ryes. What was God thinking when he created men and women?