by Rose Fox
“Yes, she’s the one who escaped execution from our prison.”
“Is that so?” Ian tried to match the warnings he was hearing right now to the woman, who had arrived last night and it just didn’t ring true to him.
“Now, I’m really confused. The woman who boarded my ship looks delicate and Eileen told me she vomited yesterday and slept all night in…”
“Ian, you’ve been warned – take care and what is most important – don’t let her get away again because she is wanted by the Revolutionary Guards for pulling off many attacks!”
This conversation took place on the deck, far from any eyes or ears. Now, Ian leaned on the metal railing of the bridge and stared at the approaching shore. He wondered how he would be able to work up sufficient anger with such a frail and beautiful woman, and regard her as a brilliant unarmed fighter, who was apparently also very dangerous. On the other hand, he didn’t want to take any risks and get into trouble. To remove responsibility from himself, he called the Coast Guard.
“I want to report the possibility that I have a guest on board my ship, the ‘Urmia,' who is a woman wanted by our Revolutionary Guards. It is said she escaped from their condemned prison.”
“What, what?” Tall, with light-colored eyes? Are you certain? How did she board your ship? What’s her destination?” the man panicked on the other end of the line and Ian also grew tense.
The Naka shore was unique. There were rocks on the sea bed that had been formed from shell shards over tens of thousands of years, that did not rise above the surface of the sea, Ships had to be maneuvered to avoid them. Ian was familiar with each and every rock, but submarine rock formations had collapsed in the recent earthquake a week earlier and had relocated, or new ones had formed that he was still unfamiliar with. He had heard that ancient buildings on the Naka coast, to which he was sailing, were destroyed and only some of their walls remained standing.
He leaned over the metal railing and surveyed the sea, trying to look out for groups of rocks and white coral masses and jumped when he heard Abigail’s voice behind him.
“Ian, I thank you for the maritime lift. I understand we’ve reached the shore.”
He turned around and found she was standing right beside him. He recalled Aziz’s remarks: ‘Tall, large light-colored eyes and dimples in her cheeks’, and just then, she smiled and the dimples deepened in her cheeks.
“Tell me, do you know Salamas?”
“No,” she replied innocently, “Who is he? Is he someone I should meet?”
“Oh, I just wondered, because he told me that he drove with you, but I can imagine that…”
“With me?!”
“Yes, He remembers you, tall with light-colored eyes,” and almost added ‘and kills people with her bare hands.'
Abigail felt a burning sensation running down her ring finger and recoiled, because she understood that the stone had identified considerable force. Also, without the ring, it was clear to her that she was walking a tightrope now. It was possible that the man already understood who she was and had received information about her.
“Wait, aren’t there other women with light-colored eyes?” She posed. “By the way, you have a beautiful tattoo on your hand.”
“Do you mean this tattoo on my forearm?” The snake?”
“No, actually, I was referring to the star, here on your hand.”
She drew closer to him, on purpose, and watched his hand. She noticed how it entered his pocket, but now she was even closer to him.
“If you get out your hand I’ll show you what I mean,” she told him.
She pulled his hand and it came out of his pocket, with his fingers wrapped around a revolver aimed at her. Abigail didn’t hesitate for a second, and exactly as Khalil, her Krav Maga coach had taught her, she grabbed the gun with both hands and pulled it to her, in the direction of the floor. Ian fell flat on the deck, the gun dropped out of his fingers and Abigail kicked the dark weapon up in the air and watched it go overboard and fall far away in the sea.
A member of the crew came from behind them to take docking orders from his captain. He saw Ian stretched out on the deck and caught on to what was going on. He yelled, pulled out a knife and ran towards her. Abigail remained standing beside Ian and only at the very second the crew member reached her, she veered to the side and he tripped up on Ian, fell on him and the unsheathed knife penetrated his back.
A deep groan burst out of Ian and the crew member screamed on top of his voice, calling out the names of his mates. Three of them came up on deck, stood for a second and then ran in her direction. Abigail realized that there was no point in taking them all on, especially when even more people appeared. It was time to give up. Without much thought, she got up on the railing and jumped into the water, supporting the knapsack that was always on her shoulder with her right hand.
She heard two shots from behind her then took a breath and plunged into the water, twisting between the rocks and thankful to God that they were there. When she was compelled by pressure in her lungs, she clung to one of the rocks and rose to the surface. She was hidden from the boat, breathed out the rest of the air with a groan and took another breath.
Dry land was very close now and Abigail went below the surface again, swam underwater to the beach and noticed that the rocks were disappearing and the shadow of the seabed was drawing closer. She completed the last ten meters on foot and crouching low as she hurried to the beach. The moment she felt dry land under her feet she ran for shelter in a ruined building and sank down on the sand, panting loudly.
Here, behind the protection of the ruined wall, Abigail began to get organized. She took off her wet clothes, put on a dry galabiya and folded away her wet clothes into her bag. She always took care to remove and hide traces of her presence. When she curled up in a corner and listened to the roar of the waves, she felt the quickening of the child in her womb and smiled.
Abigail was already in the middle of her fourth month of pregnancy, and according to her calculation, she was due to give birth to Karma’s child in the summer, in less than five months. She snuggled up, wrapped herself in both arms and wondered out loud as if she were talking to Karma.
“Where are you? When will you come?” She avoided considering any other possibility and laughed to herself,
“Who will come first, the father or his child?”
She heard a great noise above her and when she looked up through the broken down roof, she saw a helicopter spinning in the air. It quickly lost altitude but succeeded in landing on the sand, dragged along the beach in which it plowed deep furrows. The propellers on its rotor spun wildly, churned up the water and created currents that rose up for a considerable distance. The helicopter continued surfing another twenty or thirty yards into the water and then went silent. The waves beat up against it, went around it and it rocked gently.
A door opened and a figure of a man dropped down slowly, waded in the seawater and sank onto the sand, his face bathing in the seawater. The waves washed his body and began to retreat. Two soldiers jumped out of the helicopter, raised their Kalashnikov rifles up high and ran towards the man, lying on the sand.
At first Abigail also wanted to run to the person, who had fallen. She froze when she saw the uniforms and the rifles and decided not to intervene for the present, a decision which left her alive.
Apparently, after the event on the Azari ship ‘Urmia’ and the death of Ian, its Captain, the crew of the ship called in the Coast Guard to report the incident.
The crew of the vessel excitedly described the woman who jumped off the boat and swam ashore and the guards crosschecked this information with the message sent by Ian an hour earlier about a female of similar description. The matter was referred to the political and military echelons, which set up a team within an hour that included a military investigator and a doctor. They went by helicopter to the ‘Naka’ beach to collect first-hand evidence, interrogate the crew of the ship and examine the circumstances surrounding t
he death of its captain.
Radio signals and communication beeps emanated from the helicopter and someone responded to them in a loud voice. Abigail decided to get away now because she feared the arrival of backup that would arrive to support the helicopter that had made a forced landing on the shore. She stealthily left the ruin and climbed the little sand dunes to the coastal road.
Just then a bus full of passengers left the bus station and Abigail stepped out onto the road and stood in its path and signaled to stop it. The driver noticed her at the last moment and swerved to avoid her and blew his horn. He stared at her in amazement in his rear view mirror because he had never seen a woman trying to catch a bus this way and he almost drove on without her. But, because it was such a rare sight, he decided to stop. The woman hurried up to him and he opened the door. When she climbed the three steps, panting and smiling, and handed him a banknote, he saw her face and was impressed with her rare beauty.
“Where to, Madam?” and he almost added that it had been worth stopping for her.
“Can I go as far as the railway station at Bushehr?” she inquired. When he put out his hand to take the money from her, he squeezed her fingers, noticed her blush and lower her gaze. She mumbled softly:
“Thank you” and pulled her arm away angrily. Abigail wondered whether to react or keep silent, but she didn’t want to attract attention and melded with the passengers, feeling safe among the people around her.
The bus arrived at the railway station and it was also its last stop. Abigail got off the bus ignored the driver’s eyes and hurried away from the place.
*
The rays of the setting sun had not yet disappeared entirely, but the streetlights had already turned on and the muezzin called the faithful to prayer, as he warbled verses from the Quran.
At this hour, the motorcar traffic was busy on the roads and she thought about stopping one of them. She had to reach the north-eastern section of Bushehr, to the sea, sand and unpopulated bare hills. She hesitated because she knew there was no chance someone would agree to drive to the distant reactors.
A cart hooked up to a pair of horses passed her, moving painfully slowly. Its wheels trudged through puddles of sewage and splashed sludge around making her jump back to avoid it. The cart driver sang on top of his voice and Abigail followed the pair of horses and thought that they could offer her transportation to that area which apparently was not accessible by road. Right away, she yelled in the cart driver’s direction:
“Hi ho!”
To her surprise, he pulled the reins and turned around to her.
“Sir, would it be possible to get a lift with you to that sandy region, over there?” She pointed in an easterly direction, avoiding mentioning the name of the destination she sought, and he shouted back to her:
“To the region of the reactors?”
Abigail nodded and heard him say:
“Come, climb on!”
She hopped up and sat on the seat beside him, took hold of the wooden bar that protruded from it and straightened the ragged carpet on the bench. Right away, she pulled a bill out of her sleeve and passed it to the man. He nodded in gratitude and urged the horses to go faster, as he smiled broadly with satisfaction. Abigail noticed his expression but interpreted it as satisfaction with the payment.
It didn’t occur to her at all that he was another one of the shadow people, who had been sent as part of the assistance the organization had decided to give her.
It was almost nightfall. The cart driver stretched out to the back, picked up a cloth bag and placed it on his knees. He pulled a brown loaf of bread and circles of hard cheese out of it and invited her to share his meal.
“My name is Akhbar, Ali Akhbar. Will you eat with me?” He asked and without waiting for an answer, he tore a chunk of bread from the loaf. Its aroma made Abigail swallow her saliva noisily. She took the food from him and chewed with obvious hunger and Ali Akhbar laughed with pleasure.
“You’re hungry, ha?” he said, stretched his arm back again and caught a piece of fruit that rolled in the cart behind him and offered it to Abigail. She grasped it in her other hand and bit alternately into the bread and the fruit. She wiped the juice off her lips with her sleeve. Only now, did she notice the driver staring at her intently.
“Ah, I’m on my way back to work,” she said, with her mouth full.
“My husband works there and he got me a cleaning job.”
“I see,” he said, and slowly chewed on the piece of bread in his mouth.
The sun had not completely disappeared and the cart rolled along a deep ravine. Looking down from her high seat, she saw that the riverbed was dry.
“Perhaps next winter, with the help of Allah, the water will flow there again,” Akhbar voiced his wish, and she laughed.
“What a pity, I was planning to go down there to drink.”
“Are you thirsty?” he asked, passing the reins to her, he jumped off and climbed on the cart. He bent over to rummage among the packages and possessions, while the horses continued their easy canter, rocking the seat she sat on. He brought a bottle of murky liquid that made her recoil and laughed as he said.
“It’s good. This water contains juice squeezed from lemons I picked off the tree in our yard.”
One of the horses whinnied and they continued their smooth canter. Abigail took the bottle from Akhbar and she drank its contents thirstily. When she returned the bottle to him, she shivered:
“Brrr…, it’s sour” and wiped her mouth with her sleeve.
Darkness was all around and, with it, the chill increased. Ali Akhbar pulled a thin woolen blanket from the cart and laid it on Abigail’s shoulders. Then he lit a lantern hanging on a wooden post beside his seat, and it projected a circle of light that swung over the sandy road. Tiny mosquitos were drawn to the light and chased them, humming softly.
She didn’t know how long they had been riding when in the distance the shadows of domed buildings appeared and lights twinkled between them.
He announced: “We have arrived.”
When they stopped, she proffered him another bill but he shook his head and refused to take it. When she said:
“It’s to thank you for the food and the water,” he took the money from her.
Right after that he raised his hand and touched his head to take leave of her, shouted,
“Bye” and clicked his tongue to his horses.
Abigail stared after the cart as it moved away and suddenly wanted him to fetch her. She yelled to him in a loud voice and Ali Akhbar pulled the reins to stop the pair of horses, then stood up in the cart.
“I asked if you could come here tomorrow morning!” she called out to him.
“What did you say?” he yelled. “Do you want me to come back here again tomorrow morning?!
She nodded and waved to him. Then he turned his back on her and went on his way.
She stood like that in the dark, listening to the pounding of the horses’ hooves on the hard ground and did not move until they faded in the distance. Only then, did she turn her face to the shadows of the enormous structures that darkened in the distance.
It was much colder, so much so that Abigail stamped her feet with every stride she took when suddenly, the earth shook beneath her feet and she got a fright. At first she thought that the movement of the tremor in her muscles was caused by her stamping, but then the earth shook once more and she fell. Sand filled her mouth and she spat and wiped her lips with her sleeve. The earth moved yet again and her head began to spin.
Far away, the lights illuminated the distant reactor buildings but their strength surged and fell all the time, as they went out and came back on. Abigail surmised that they were having power stoppages and watched, expecting the electricity to return and stabilize. She knew that in such circumstances, emergency generators would be activated.
Abigail got up and continued walking and when she estimated she was about two hundred yards from the wall surrounding the buildings, she stood st
ill for a moment to sense if the earth was steady. When she could almost touch the wall, she heard a thud and realized that sections of the wall were falling down.
A threatening creak was heard overhead and she noticed a tall gate begin to move and she stopped. She tried to guess which way it would fall when the ground rocked beneath her again and she kneeled down on it. Abigail looked up and felt as if the stars were changing their distance and threatened to fall, and she was overcome with helplessness. The lights flickered incessantly and, evidently, the power supply to the buildings was completely disrupted.
Abigail took her backpack off and laid it on the ground. She pulled out two tiny boxes, removed earphones from one of them and pushed them into her ears. She dipped her finger into the second box and smeared its contents on her neck, face and hands, taking care not to leave any part of her skin unprotected. She felt her skin go cold wherever she had applied the cream. When she finished, she looked up at the massive structures before her.
This nuclear power plant was divided into six reactors and they produced power using a steam turbine. Now, with power stoppages, she expected they would transfer to generators. Since the stoppages continued, she imagined that they would have to completely stop the reactors to ensure they would not overheat and boil over.
All at once, sparks flew, explosions were heard and the place went completely dark. She heard the noise of walls collapsing around her, people yelling and she panicked. She could not absorb what was happening and she didn’t know where to turn or where the trouble was coming from so she lay down where she stood and didn’t get up.
She lay like that for a time and when her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, she got up and moved out of the shadows of the ruined wall. She hopped over bricks that became white in the dark.
Inside the reactors, a desperate attempt was being made to connect the generators and pump the cooling water to chill the blazing core. Abigail also understood how urgent it was to do this, so she moved under cover of the dark as she groped and searched for the pipe system through which the radioactive coolant flows.