by B. C. Tweedt
Sydney pursed her lips. “Who?”
“Uh, who else?” Nick gave her a look.
“Greyson? Yeah. Some. You?”
Nick nodded with a sigh. “A little.”
They stared out to sea until Nick turned back toward the ship’s interior. They were near the middle of the ship, just a few yards from where their parents relaxed in a hot tub. After dinner they had danced at the Departure Party. After a few thumping dances, a slow song had come on and Nick and Sydney had danced. But only for a minute. She had thought about Greyson – how he hated to dance – and she’d grown sad. So, instead they had explored the ship, navigating with the Dream Guide’s map.
The map showed that the ship was shaped almost like a hotdog bun, with a deep valley in the center encircled by rooms with balconies overlooking a central park that ran through the bottom of the valley. Toward the bow of the ship there were deck chairs situated around lush vegetation meant for more private relaxation, while the stern of the ship had the basketball courts, surfing simulators, and mini-golf course. Just below the stern’s top deck was the spectacular Aqua Theatre. Its hundreds of auditorium seats faced a winding pool where performances would be held with the ocean as a backdrop, even as climbers scaled the two rock walls behind the audience.
As they had walked the halls, they couldn’t help thinking that it was like a massive hotel had blended with a city’s downtown. Though the ship would travel to tourist destinations for its passengers to explore, Sydney could understand why some passengers never even left the ship. Every day there were new shows in multiple theatres, tons of restaurants, dance clubs, contests, and of course, the zip line that ran across the interior valley. She couldn’t imagine a better vacation opportunity.
But she wasn’t happy. Maybe if Greyson were there. Or Sam.
“Want to come back to the hot tub?” Nick asked. “Might as well enjoy it, you know?”
She smiled at him. “Alright.”
Together she and Nick made their way to the hot tub where their families were laughing and smiling. As soon as they slipped into the bubbly water, Nick caught a glimpse of his brother approaching. “No. Frickin’. Way.”
Sydney turned to Nick and then followed his astonished gaze. Jarryd was strutting, towel over his shoulder, chin in a permanent pump upward. To his right was a girl no one recognized, but Sydney instantly disliked. The girl was the type of girl that made girls like Sydney feel self-conscious about their bodies.
Even their parents’ mouths had dropped open, exhaling little gasps of exclamation as Jarryd and Avery came closer.
“Hey, peeps!” Jarryd shouted, his strut turning into a pose as he stood over their hot tub. “Got room for two more?”
“Uh…who’s this?” Sydney’s mom asked as welcoming as she could.
“Oh, uh, sorry,” he said gesturing to the girl. “This is Avery.”
“G’day,” Avery said, revealing her Australian accent.
“She’s my mate,” Jarryd said with a smirk and a pump of his chin.
Jarryd’s stepdad smiled as the rest found themselves at a loss for words.
“Good day,” Sydney replied, breaking the silence. “Come on in.” By all means, hide your body under the water.
“Thank you,” she said, stepping in and taking a seat next to Sydney.
“I’m Rachel,” Sydney said.
Avery reacted as if she knew some hidden meaning behind her name.
Before Avery could ask, the Aldemans gave their names as Al and Peggy and the Hansens as Tim and Jill. For a while they interrogated her, in a nice way, and found out that her parents were business owners – one in robotics and one in aerospace. Rich. Her hobbies were surfing and tennis. Athletic. And she was thinking of graduating high school a few years early to attend a university in the states. Smart.
Jealousy rose in Sydney’s heart, but she fought to keep it at bay. She seemed nice. But she had to have flaws. Why else would she want to hang with Jarryd?
“This hot tub is nice,” Jarryd’s stepdad exclaimed, “but it doesn’t have as good of service as the one in Serenity with that bar. No kids there either.” He winked at Jarryd and then saw something out of the corner of his eye. “Hey! Waiter!”
The waiter stopped and, just visible in the deck lights, rolled his eyes. But he approached with a smile. “What can I get you, sir?”
“A Hairy Navel, please.”
“Dave – er – Al!” his wife chastised, forgetting his fake name in a rush to rebuke.
“What? That’s what the drink’s called, right?” he said with a grin.
Nick’s eyes had latched onto the waiter’s eyebrow – and then on his smart watch.
Sydney gave Nick a look. She could tell he was fighting to say something, but something else was fighting back. Finally he blurted, “Hey! Where’d you get the watch?”
The waiter, Adrian from the Philippines, gave him a hard look. “It was a gift.” And then he walked away, leaving their hot tub with puzzled expressions.
Sydney gave Nick an even more puzzled look that said what’d you ask that for?
He replied with a sideways glance that said I’ll tell you later.
“Did Joey tell you he su’fed earliah today?” Avery asked the group. “He was a bonz’ah, doing amazing until – ”
“Until my knees got all wallaby.”
They laughed together and Jarryd slapped his hand at the water to show what happened to him.
“He hit so ha’d, I thought he carked it, but he’s as tough as woodpeck’ah lips.”
“But no worries. I’m uncarked.”
Avery laughed. Even her laugh was pleasant. “Sorry for some of the lingo. This is my first vacation with Americans. You’ll have to teach me some of yours.”
As the group chimed in, teaching her American lingo, Sydney turned to look again at the moon. She was tired already and wanted to retreat to the room, but that would mean standing up in her bathing suit in front of everyone – and Avery. Though she was sure they had all made the comparison in their minds, she didn’t want to help them out.
Maybe she should go to the fitness center with Nick tomorrow morning – to hear what’s up and to work out. It couldn’t hurt. Well, it might hurt, since she hadn’t really worked out since the attack at camp had prevented a return to her dance practices.
Suddenly Nick was getting out of the tub and drying off. “I’m going to call it a night,” he said, nonchalantly. “I’ve got a room key.”
The others tried to persuade him to stay, but he kindly brushed them off, donned his t-shirt, and walked away.
“I’m going, too. Chandler, wait up!” Sydney burst from the water, slipping a little on the edge and almost putting her butt in Avery’s face, but gaining control and sprinting to Nick. She came back for her towel. “I’m tired, too. Catch you later!” She turned to Avery. “G’night.”
Nick waited for her around the corner.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Are you okay?” she asked back.
He scoffed and shrugged, turning in the direction of their rooms. “I’m just…I guess I’m scared…well, not scared…”
Sydney walked alongside him, still drying off. “Of what?”
“It’s weird being here. Having fun. Pretending like everything is normal.”
She nodded, agreeing with him. Eight hours ago they were in Texas. Not long before that they were under FBI protection.
“I feel like…we’re running away…or running right into something worse.” Nick opened the door for her, descended a few floors, and followed her into Miko Deck’s lobby, where plush red carpet greeted their toes. The high-pitched plinks and clings of the casino played at their ears, and the flashing lights took their attention as they walked by. They admired the off-limits place like they were at a zoo, admiring the various games, the excited players, and a grand-prize waverunner elevated above the slot machines, like it was riding on a wave of dollar bills.
Nick stopped and stared. �
��That would be sweet.”
Sydney stopped briefly next to him, but then continued on, giving it a passing glance. “Sure, buddy.”
“No, really,” he said, catching up to her. “Jarryd and I rode them last summer at the Lake of the Ozarks. I’m horrible, but Jarryd’s a natural with things like that. It was pretty fun.”
“I’m sure it was. Everything was fun back then.”
There was already a line waiting for the elevators, so they headed for the stairway that wound down from one deck’s lobby to the next, all the way down to their deck – the Seriano Deck.
“Do you feel the same?” Nick asked with a whisper so as to not be overheard by the passersby. “That we’re running away, or running into something worse?”
They passed the golden sign reading Empress Deck.
Sydney sighed, thinking to herself as they descended. “I guess it seems like whenever things are going well…then that’s when it happens. It’s like we’re just in the peaceful eye of the storm, just waiting for…”
Nick gave her a sympathetic smile. “…it to go all crazy again?”
“Yeah.” She smiled back, glancing at the mural on the staircase wall of an underwater castle, complete with a drawbridge, a keep, and watchtowers. Tiny little flags blew in the water’s current and colorful fish darted within the gates.
Suddenly Nick’s face turned grave, and he stopped on the landing, pulling Sydney’s arm. Making sure they were alone, he removed his glasses and rubbed the scar on his eyebrow. His voice turned to a whisper. “See this mark?”
She nodded.
“It was given to me by Pluribus.” He let that sink in. “And now I’ve seen that same mark, two times. On this ship.”
Sydney drew back with dismay. Nick put his glasses back on, and leveled his eyes with hers. “I think we’re heading straight into it again.”
Though she was scared, a determination broke her frown. She gave Nick a look. “And you want to check it out, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “We have to.”
She rocked on her heels and gave surrendered nod. “You’re just like him.”
He blushed, trying not to put his hands on his fanny pack. “Not really. Am I?”
“Sure you are,” she said with a shrug. “What’s your plan? I know you’re thinking of something – just like he would.”
A surge of confidence swelled into a smile on Nick’s face. Suddenly he pulled her around a corner and glanced both ways to make sure the coast was clear. Then, feeding off of her excitement, he whispered the plan
Chapter 29
The bowels of the American Dream were as much dark and musty as the exterior was bright and welcoming. The corridors were narrow, the lights dim and blue, and the air stifling. Workers shuffled about robotically, with barely a word exchanged among them. Those that wore the watches were more aware – shifty-eyed and quick on their feet – while those without went about their business carrying laundry and trash like they had done it a thousand times. And many had.
Nick’s plan had gone smoothly so far, if one could call it a plan. The plan had called for them to follow a Plurb-marked worker in order to gather more information. Once they had found one, Sydney had distracted him with a spilled drink just as he had opened a security door. Nick had caught the security door before it closed and slipped past, hiding in a janitor cart’s pile of laundry. After Nick let Sydney in the security zone, they had followed the workers for several minutes, finally darting to a hiding place behind a mound of sheets as big as an igloo.
The gigantic laundry machine’s tiny circular window glowed ahead of them, twirling the clothes in ghostly shapes as it jerked and jostled the laundry as if chewing a rubbery steak. Watching it made Nick dizzy, and his stomach already ached. His grand plan had only gotten them deep into enemy territory – and soiled sheets.
“There,” Sydney whispered, pointing toward the corner of the massive room, past several more machines that were chewing towels. “They stopped in the corner.”
Nick spotted them as well. They were talking with each other, glancing around nervously, but without enough suspicion to spot the kids’ faces amongst the piles.
“What are they doing?” Sydney asked.
“I don’t know. Looks like they’re just waiting.”
“For what?”
Nick rolled his eyes. “How am I supposed to know?”
“Well,” Sydney said, glancing at the mark cut from his brow. “…you are one of them.”
“No, I’m not. Just because I was with them for a week or two…”
“Shh!”
A worker passed by with a cart of striped bath towels. Once he had gone an adequate distance, Nick continued. “I’m not one of them.”
She stared blankly. “I know.”
Nick wasn’t convinced in her response. But all he could do was sigh and continue watching the men. It was another two minutes before their watches lit up. Like they were programmed, the two men gave each other a look and left the room.
“They’re going!”
Nick and Sydney snuck around the edge of the laundry piles, passing behind one grinding machine after another. The noise was louder than their thoughts, and when they finally reached the door, their ears welcomed the silence with relief.
“They keep going further in,” Nick mentioned. “Maybe we should head back…”
Sydney caught a glimpse of one of the men’s shoes disappearing down the hall. “That way!”
Nick followed with a sigh, light on his feet and crouching low. One passage led to another until a dark stairwell loomed at the end of the hall. After waiting for the Plurbs to descend first, Nick and Sydney followed on the cramped staircase with deliberate steps, the metal creaking beneath their weight no matter how careful they were.
Nick had to remind himself to breathe. He’d spent hours in visualization and preparation, but now it was real – and his plan had already run its course. The panic was nipping at his heart – sending spurts of adrenaline washing through his veins. This wasn’t what he was supposed to be doing and he knew it. He was supposed to be the one who stayed behind with the binoculars and maps – the one who warned the adventurous ones when trouble was coming. He wasn’t the adventurous one. Or at least he wasn’t supposed to be.
Finally reaching the bottom of the staircase, he scooted past Sydney, made a gesture to hold up, and peeked around the corner. Only twenty yards down, the men had stopped at a door labeled “Authorized Personnel Only.” Just as the men were closing the door behind them, Nick glanced away.
Whether or not he was adventurous or not, he didn’t have a choice now. There wasn’t any more time to pretend. There had to come a time when the pretending would run out. And this was it. “I think they’ve reached their destination.”
“We’re not going to find out anything by staying here,” Sydney complained. “What are we waiting for?”
Nick put his back to the wall and took in deep breaths, fighting the panic.
Sydney arched her brow. “Want me to go first?”
Yes, please! “No way! I’m just thinking.”
“Why? Let’s go.”
Sydney started around the corner, but Nick stopped her with a stiff hand. “I’m going first. No questions.”
He stared her down, gave her a stern nod, and then wrapped around the corner mouthing ‘stupid’ over and over again as the door loomed nearer. They were near the bottom of the ship, and they could sense the pressure of the ocean on all sides, as if it were crushing the hull. Nick tried hard not to imagine the dark depths of water just below his feet.
His hand reached for the door’s lever and rubbed over the cold steel. A loud mechanical churning reverberated through the door, rattling the handle and Nick’s hand. Breathing out and closing his eyes, he pushed the lever down, feeling the mechanism unlatch.
“Easy,” Sydney whispered, just behind his ear.
The door cracked open and the scene inside slowly came into view. Nick and Sydney p
ressed their eyes up to it, taking it in.
It was a long and narrow room with large rectangular doors that could be opened to the outside, but were now latched securely shut. Just inside the docks were bright orange plastic crates that would require two men to carry. Several of the containers were open, but the lids were still blocking the contents from view.
The two men they had followed were kneeling over the contents of a crate and talking with two others, but the mechanical churning was loud and clunking, like the ship’s engine was only a room or two away. Only phrases were audible above the din.
“…won’t be suspicious…doing their jobs…won’t see it coming.”
Nick’s eyes grew wider and his mouth was agape. Sydney squinted and leaned in closer over Nick’s crouched body, yearning to hear more.
“Leave early…panic…muster stations…down with the ship…”
The men’s hands appeared around the edge of the crate’s lid and then disappeared into it, as if they were arranging the contents. A strap flung into view and then something orange. Nick struggled to see anything that would tell him what they were doing.
And then he saw it. Just enough of it to know what it was.
“Life vests.”
Sydney sneered with disappointment. “Life vests?”
The crate slammed shut, revealing the four men’s faces. One was looking directly at the door.
SHOOT!
Nick and Sydney froze, eyes like marbles.
“Who left the door open?”
Without a word, Sydney bolted first, rocketing down the corridor and up the stairs. Nick started close on her tail, but he stopped, turned back, and emptied the ball bearings from his fanny pack into the hallway just as footsteps stomped to the doorway.
Nick let out an embarrassing whimper, but bolted after her. He tripped on the stairs. He banged his shin, but continued on. He flew around corners and caught Sydney. He followed her left and right, through doors and past a few workers – thankfully only those without watches.
But they were lost.
“Now where?” Sydney shouted.
A mental picture of the ship’s interior snapped into Nick’s mind. “This way!”