by Melissa Roen
I knew I’d turned it off to save the battery the last time I checked for a signal a couple of days ago. Somehow, the “on” button must have been pressed when the phone bounced across the floor.
The battery was still charged, and there was a new text message; the date was yesterday. I tried to open it up, but there was no signal here on the lower decks of the Carpe Diem. I would have to go up to see who it was from. My head throbbed from the after-effects of the whiskey. I looked at the bed with longing. I was tired down to my very bones. I would deal with the message later on, when I woke up. I grabbed the bottle of oblivion and went into the bathroom.
I stuffed a towel into the porthole, assuming its thickness would be enough to block out any tell-tale beams leaking into the night from the yacht, and turned on the lights around the mirror. I almost didn’t recognize myself; I had lost weight these last weeks. Dark circles bloomed under my eyes, and my hair looked as if a couple of cats had been cage fighting in the wild mess of tangled knots and curls.
I shook a pill into the palm of my hand and then added another one. If I could sleep the next twenty-four hours or until we reached port in Santa Margarita, that would be just fine. I filled a glass with water and popped the first pill in my mouth. I could feel it start to dissolve on my tongue. I knew the sweet tides would claim me soon.
A vision of Buddy, teeth bared, protecting Julian, flashed before my eyes; then Mama, standing tall and putting two shots in the shoulder and thigh of the backwoods rapist. I spat the pill out in the sink and splashed cold water on my face, trying to scrub away the visions.
I’d ascend to the upper deck and see who the damned message was from. If nothing else, I could grab the decanter of whiskey on my way back. The pills and the whiskey should be enough to knock me out and keep the dreams at bay. Just the thought of sinking down into the sweet bliss of forgetfulness made me hurry.
CHAPTER 29
WINGS OF HOPE
Fingers of fog wrapped the Carpe Diem. The morning star was lost to sight behind the clouds. Dawn was only a couple of hours away, and would break cool and gray. I hadn’t been able to get a signal lower down on the aft deck, so I climbed to Carpe Diem’s sun deck. I held the phone out before me to the distant sky and searched for a signal. One bar appeared; a faint signal glowed for an instant, then disappeared. Down in the depths of the yacht, despairing in my stateroom, I hadn’t cared who the message was from, but the cool sea breeze had cleared the fug of whiskey from my brain and I felt a sense of urgency.
I roamed the top deck, side to side, searching for the elusive signal, my bare feet silent in the night. I felt the excitement building inside me, as if I was on the verge of an epiphany. I would stay here the rest of the night if need be. The signal flashed on again by the aft rail, but it was still too faint.
I should have given up then. Lost faith yet again, grabbed the bottle of whiskey and retreated to my luxurious cave below. But I felt something stirring in the air. Though the cloud cover and fog still hid the movement of the heavens from my sight, I could feel the weight of night lifting. Hope reborn rushed towards me on the wings of the breaking day.
I stood still, the phone dangling at my side. I looked towards the east, and then as if a hand swept the clouds and fog aside, I saw a circle of the night sky appear overhead, and in the very center, the morning star shone forth.
I raised the phone towards the beam of starlight, and the signal pulsed at full strength. I opened the message. I didn’t recognize the number. The message wasn’t signed.
“Wait for me, Maya Jade. I’m coming. I’ll find you.”
I called back but the phone rang and rang. No answer; no recording. I tried again. I sent a text message, but it was returned; the inbox was full.
I remembered his voice in my dream, the words spoken so softly they were taken by the wind. The hair stood up on the back of my neck, and I knew I was in the realm of enchantment. These ten words were the flimsiest spar to cling to. I couldn’t be sure who’d sent the unsigned message.
Dawn would be breaking in an hour. I didn’t have much time. In that instant, I knew what I was going to do.
The crew members on watch were forward, by the bridge. I could see the glow of cigarettes, hear the murmur of low-voiced conversation, and make out the outline of bodies in the gloom.
I heard the footsteps of a guard making rounds coming towards me and ducked down behind the shrouded form of a jet ski, hoping the fog would hide me. I waited until his footsteps faded.
I crept back to my stateroom, quickly changed and gathered what I thought I would need. Before I headed back up, I hung a “Do Not Disturb” sign on my closed stateroom door, hoping by the time someone knocked to check on me, the boat would be too far out to sea to turn back.
I knew that somewhere on the deck, where the jet skis and other water toys were stored, there had to be a diving locker, with wet suits, oxygen tanks, fins and masks. Though it was near the end of October, the sea was a warm seventy-five degrees. I had a one-piece bathing suit on under my loose cotton shift. My money belt, crammed with gold coins, was cinched around my waist. I only needed fins, a mask, and a water proof diver’s bag, for my cell phone, keys, passport, external hard drive and the Judge. I had extra ammunition at home.
I needed to hurry before another guard stumbled across me looting the dive locker. I opened the hatch, and shielding the beam of my flashlight with my hand, searched inside. I quickly found what I needed and stowed my possessions in the diver’s bag. The extra weight would slow me down, but the fins would help propel me through the one and a half kilometers of open water I had to cross. I knew I could make it.
I hid my shift and the bag behind some oxygen tanks and silently closed the locker’s door. I waited, listening for the tread of approaching footsteps. Nothing moved. I kept to the shadows of the tender and jet skis secured to the deck for the sea crossing, ready to duck back down at the first sign of another patrol.
I was nearly to the stairs that led down the docking port on the lower aft deck when I heard a guard approach. I melted into the shadows. In a matter of minutes, I would be climbing down the ladder into the watery embrace of the sea. I was almost home. He stopped against the rail ten meters away and snuck a cigarette while staring out at the fog-shrouded sea. The sky would start lightening in less than thirty minutes. I had to be in the water and swallowed by the fog before daybreak.
Finally, he flicked the cigarette butt into the sea and continued his rounds. I breathed out a sigh of relief and was about to hurry forward towards the final stairs to freedom when a hand clamped around my mouth. Another hand held me fast.
“Shh… don’t move. Wait. He’s coming back.”
I smelled the faint aroma of Turkish cigarettes on the fingers that covered my mouth. The guard stood for long minutes listening, almost as though he sensed something was wrong. Finally, he moved off. Bilal waited until the tread of his footsteps faded and we could hear the muffled sound of a door closing before releasing me.
He spun me around and took in the fins and mask that dangled from my hand. I could almost hear his mind turning over at the evidence.
“Maya Jade, do you mind telling me… what the hell are you up to now?”
I couldn’t read his dark hooded eyes, the lines of his face set in their habitual scowl. I didn’t know what words to use to explain. He worked for Abdul and had been charged with the mission of getting me away safely. Bilal was a soldier and followed orders. If anything happened to me, he would have to shoulder the blame.
I opened the dive bag, pulled out the cell phone, scrolled down to the message. There were no words I possessed to make him understand, so I handed him the phone. The black letters of Julian’s text were stark against the faint glow of the screen.
He stared at the phone for long minutes. I held my breath and waited. Finally, he looked up. Our gaze locked, his eyes fierce, almost angry, and with a sinking feeling I knew he would have to stop me. He had no choice.
&n
bsp; “You think this is from whom exactly?”
“There’s only one person it could be from.”
“This is crazy.” He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. “You think you’re going to swim to shore in the middle of the night? And go where? How’s he going to find you?”
“Actually, Bilal, it’s almost dawn. I know this bay and can swim the distance. I’ve done it countless times. It will start getting lighter in another twenty minutes. I know what I’m doing. I’ll be fine.”
“And Abdul?”
“I wish I could explain to him myself. I owe him that. But you know that was never going to be a good thing for any of us. Especially not for his wife or sons.”
I’d thought there were no words to explain, but they poured out of me.
“You were at the lake camp with me in Saint Cassiens. You know I thought Julian was lost forever. Dead. You, of all people, should understand. I have a chance to be with him again. This time, I’m not going to run away. I love him. It’s as simple as that. Whatever is going to happen, I want to be by his side. Please don’t stop me. Help me, Bilal. He knows where to find me. Please let me go.”
“Where are you going to go?”
“I can’t tell you that. Please understand. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to trust me. This is what I want.”
Bilal’s eyes bored into mine, and the silence stretched between us. Then, something softened in his eyes, and the ghost of a smile played around his lips.
“You’re sure? Once the boat weighs anchor, you’ll be left behind. You understand that? If Julian doesn’t come, what will you do?”
“I know the risks… how crazy it sounds! But at the end of the world, why am I supposed to act rationally? This is what I want. This is what I have to do.”
“Come on, then. You don’t have much time left. Let me go first and make sure there are no guards below. Wait for my signal before you come down the stairs.”
We reached the swim deck at the aft of the ship without mishap. The ladder that descended into the concealment of the water was at my feet. I looked at Bilal’s gruff face for the last time; the smile was gone. Maybe I only imagined it.
On impulse, I reached up and hugged him. I felt his shoulders, stiff and unyielding, under my grasp.
“Thank you, Bilal. I know what this may cost you. But I thank you with all my heart for understanding. You’ve been a true friend to me.”
Then, I felt his arms come up, and he hugged me back. I felt the brush of his kiss on my forehead before he let me go. The ghost of a smile was back.
“Go with God, Maya Jade. May Allah protect your path. I’ll cover for you as long as I can.”
The sky was turning light as I hung from the ladder and slipped on my fins. I let go, and the sea reached out and embraced me. I watched Bilal, only my head breaking the surface, as I quietly kicked away from the boat on my back. He stood haloed in the spreading light, his arm raised in farewell. I kept watching him until the fog closed around the Carpe Diem.
CHAPTER 30
FREE
Pale white mist rose like phantoms from the water and hid the sun. The fog had been the perfect cover to slip away unseen from the boat, but now I was lost in a shrouded world that had no shape or depth. I knew if I got turned around and swam the wrong way, dangerous currents at the mouth of the bay could drag me far out to sea before releasing their hold.
The important thing was not to panic and strike out blindly in any direction in my haste to evade pursuit. Even though my villa was only fifteen hundred meters away as the crow flew, the bay was more than six kilometers wide from end to end.
I breathed in deeply and floated on my back, trying to still my heartbeat and relax. I imagined my body at one with the sea and felt the movement of the currents and swells. I drifted, blinded by the mist.
After a while, I noticed the swell out of the southwest, and the tide was running high. I knew then if I swam with the swell at my back, eventually I’d hear the sound of the waves breaking at the base of the cliff. I could follow the falaise until I found the opening to the grotto, and from there, I knew my way home blindfolded.
I kicked a slow easy beat, my face in the water, scanning the seabed. I was in deep water near the mouth of the bay, and the bottom was lost to sight in the deepening blue fathoms below. I tried not to think of sharks or any of the other denizens of the deep that could swim towards me out of the gloom, and I exhaled a small sigh of relief when I noticed the shelf of the sea floor was rising gradually to meet me. I knew I would soon hear the crash of the waves breaking on the rocks at the base of the cliff wall.
Reaching the shallows, I saw the blanket-wrapped forms huddled in sleep next to the tumble of boulders at the far end of the cove and smelled the charred wood of the banked campfire, though any smoke rising from the embers was lost in the mist that enveloped the cove at la Mala.
I crouched behind a large group of rocks two hundred meters away, my lower body submerged in the shallows. The path that led towards the hidden gate at the bottom of my garden was only a hundred and fifty meters away, across the pebble-strewn shore. I’d been watching the camp of travelers for the last twenty minutes before making my move.
The wind had picked up in the last half hour, and the fog cover was dissipating. I slid back into the water and glided the last couple of meters through the shallows until I beached on the shore. Staying low, I crawled twenty meters to the next outcropping of boulders further up the beach. For the next half hour, I slowly worked my way from one hiding place to another.
I saw, far to the west, patches of blue appearing in the sky. The bay was still shrouded by the wall of fog, so I didn’t know whether Carpe Diem had put out to sea. The skies would clear by noon at the latest, and I had to be long gone by then. I didn’t know how long Bilal would be able to cover for me.
It was only forty meters to the shelter of vegetation at the base of the cliff, but I would be fully exposed to the camp while crossing the last stretch of beach. There was nothing to do but trust that the spirit that had guided me this far wouldn’t betray me with sanctuary so close. With one last glance at the slumbering camp, and a prayer on my lips, I sprinted the last forty meters towards the concealment of shrubbery.
I heard no warning shout, and I didn’t stop to look back. I kept up the pace along the winding trail, until the overhang of ivy hidden behind the screen of bamboo came into view. I had my keys out in half a second and slipped inside, but the hammering of my heart didn’t slow until I’d barred the door.
I’d made it home, but I couldn’t stay. This was the first place Abdul or his people would look for me. And if Anjuli had succeeded in escaping Slava, he too wouldn’t mind having a conversation with me. There would be no further help from the direction of Monaco. I’d cut all my ties the moment I’d slipped into the sea.
Though a disinterested observer might judge my prospects had considerably worsened in the past couple of hours, my heart was at peace. And the fierce certainty that sang through me was that I was finally free. I had an hour to take a shower, gather clothes, my other guns and ammunition, or any last supplies I would need in exile. I probably couldn’t risk coming back again for a long time, if ever. I needed to hurry. I had to be on high ground before the sun burned away the fog.
CHAPTER 31
REDEMPTION
The second thing I did when I got out of the shower was boot up my laptop. There was still no word from Leah, even though the internet was up today. I sent her an email outlining my new situation. I imagined her scream would be heard halfway around the world when she found out I had deliberately missed the boat.
Of course, my first order of business had been to ring the mysterious number again. The waterproof dive bag had protected my cell phone, the external hard drive and the Judge from the corroding seawater, but there was still no answer to my call. I felt the first moth wings of doubt brush my heart. I’d been soaring on pure adrenaline and hope these past hours, but now the skeptical part
of my brain kicked in.
Anyone might have sent me that message, either friend or foe. The list of friends was short; in fact, there was only one name that was engraved on my heart. The list of foes was considerably longer. I had to acknowledge the message could be a trap. Whoever sent it would see I’d tried to call back numerous times; they would know that their words had been received. It also meant they could track my whereabouts by the GPS chip in my cell phone, or intercept text messages, if they had access to the technology.
It was no secret the authorities in the Principality listened in on the phone conversations of its citizens and residents. Monte Carlo wasn’t a democracy, and even though the House of Monaco had ruled for centuries and were well-liked by the citizenry, security was paramount. Big Brother was always looking over their shoulder and listening in.
By now, and probably for some months, Slava had had access to Monaco’s spy network and technology. Still, the message had been sent two days ago, and the only reason I could think he would be taking an interest in me was if he’d gotten wind of Anjuli’s double-dealing and imminent plan of escape. If so, he could still track me by my phone and text messages, and interrogate me. As much as I wanted to leave the phone on in case Julian sent another message, just thinking about being hunted by Slava was like the shadow of death darkening my sky. I would turn on the phone and check my messages twice daily, no more. I couldn’t take the risk if I wanted to survive.
Still, I needed to leave a message for Julian where I would be holed up, without drawing a map for the bad guys. I had to leave a clue only he would understand. I thought for a minute, and then went out to locate a can of spray paint in the garage.