Anika Rising (Gretel Book 4)

by Christopher Coleman

  She stepped quietly to the stoop of the building and placed her ear flat against the metal door, closing her eyes in concentration

  “She was just outside sleeping,” the muffled voice said. “I told her to leave, and she did, but...there was something wrong about her.”

  Tanja gripped the knob and swung open the door, and the man immediately dropped the phone to his desk, the receiver smacking the wooden top violently and then bouncing once to the floor as the accordion cord hung on desperately to its attachment. Tanja could hear the voice on the other end asking follow-up questions, and then there was a long pause before the voice asked if the caller was still there. He was, Tanja thought, but not for much longer.

  She placed the receiver on the cradle and asked, “Who were you talking to?”

  “It was, uh, my supervisor, my boss. It is...I talk to him. On the phone. About the shipyards.”

  The lies were terrible, and Tanja stifled a laugh. “The police?”

  The man held his hands up, palms forward, demonstrating that he was coming clean. “Yes,” he nodded. “But I wasn’t—”

  Tanja stooped down into a crouch, as if preparing to jump, and then opened her right hand wide in front of her face so that she was now staring at her own palm.

  The shipyard worker parted his lips to speak again, and as he did, Tanja erupted upwards, driving from her thighs and hips, twisting with energy as her daggered fingers pierced through the bottom of the man’s mouth.

  The result of the impact was an explosion of teeth and blood as Tanja’s middle and ring finger impaled the man’s tongue and lodged into the hard palate at the roof of his mouth.

  The maintenance worker gagged, his eyes gawking as Tanja stood tall and faced him. She could see her own fingernails through the opening of his mouth and thought it a bit funny. “You have too much to say,” she said. “And you are rather rude.”

  The man quivered his head, pleading to be spared, and, as if granting his wish, Tanja wrenched her hand downward, freeing her nails from the man’s tongue and mouth.

  He grabbed for his face, spitting and crying as he collapsed into the chair at his desk. His tongue and chin were shredded; the top of his mouth spewed blood like a geyser.

  “When they get here,” Tanja said, her voice deep and serious, “which I’m guessing won’t be for several hours yet, you tell them I’ve gone to the New Country.” She flicked her eyebrows and said more lightly, “Though I suppose you’ll have to write it down.”

  Following this last sentence Tanja paused a moment, and then began to cackle hysterically.

  When the laughter subsided, Tanja turned to the door and opened it, pausing in the doorway. “And if you follow me,” she held her nails up high, “I’ll put these in your heart.”

  Chapter 29

  ANIKA AND PETR STOOD in the pilothouse, flanking the ship’s master on each side. The chief and deck officers sat behind them, strapped to their seats by steel cable seals.

  “How much longer until we arrive in port?” Petr asked, standing only inches from the captain.

  The captain didn’t look at Petr, and silently pointed to one of the many electronic screens that formed a low wall between him and the long front windows of the bridge. A little over seven hours according to the display.

  “There is money. In a safe, back in my quarters. It can be yours. All of it. Just tell me what you’ve done with my crew.”

  Anika didn’t hesitate. “Some of them are dead.”

  The captain closed his eyes for a beat, processing, and then opened them again, regaining his stoicism.

  “And some of those who are dead deserved to die,” Anika continued. “They were rapists and murderers, both in their hearts and in their actions.” She paused and took a deep breath. “About the others, I had little choice. They were unable to follow my orders.”

  “Perhaps because they were not your orders to give.”

  “Your crew was rotten, sir! God only knows the abuses they committed over the years.”

  The master closed his eyes and frowned, and Anika couldn’t tell if it was disappointment about the character of his crew or the loss of their lives. Or a third possibility: that he knew of their character and had done nothing to correct it.

  “And the others? Those whom you didn’t murder?”

  “They are locked away. Imprisoned in one of the containers. They are safe and unharmed. And so you’re aware, I did nothing to the engine ratings. I never entered the engine room at all. They should be unaffected by any of this, though they’re probably wondering now where lunch is.”

  “You?” the captain asked.

  Anika was confused. “What?”

  “You said ‘I never entered the engine room.’ This was all your doing? How could that be true?”

  Petr began to speak but Anika interrupted him on the first word. “It is a story too long to tell in the hours we have remaining, sir, but it is true. Other than tying your officers to their chairs, which I forced him to do, my companion has done nothing wrong. He is innocent.”

  “Anika,” Petr pled.

  Anika shot Petr a look and shook her head, cutting him off again. “I’ll face whatever punishment comes to me, though it will have to wait. I have business when we arrive, business that I won’t abandon for any reason. But when it is concluded, I will turn myself in. I will not leave you to pay the full price for what’s happened aboard your vessel.” She paused. “Do you trust me to return?”

  “How long?” the captain asked, his voice stern, detail-oriented.

  “I can’t say. Not exactly. I’m on a quest to find someone, and I don’t know where she lives.”

  “In all the Eastern Lands? You can’t be serious that you think you’ll find her.”

  “I have a name. And an instinct. But I have more than that. I have a connection. A connection to the woman I’m looking for. By God or the universe, I don’t know exactly. But we will meet soon. I can’t say the time or day even, but sooner than perhaps I would even guess.”

  The captain shook his head, not giving Anika’s mystical talk any time or consideration. “I can’t make any promises, certainly not to someone who has murdered my crew, even if justified in some cases. And I’m a man of science and duty, thus I don’t believe in knowing things through feelings or other magical nonsense. That said, I do believe you when you say you will return, though I have no choice but to alert the authorities the moment we arrive and have been released. If, indeed, that is to be our fate. It is my sworn duty, and I won’t abandon it.”

  Anika respected the captain’s candor, especially considering his captive position beside a powerful killer of men.

  “And I believe you about the boy as well,” the master added. “So if the surviving prisoners can confirm your story, that he was not a part of what took place here, I’ll make no mention of him.” He gave a backwards nod to his officers seated behind him. “They will follow my lead.”

  Anika nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

  “You’ll hang for this,” the captain said calmly, staring out at the vast blue of the open water. “Murder on the high seas is punishable by death in almost every scenario.”

  “I understand that.”

  “And this doesn’t sway your promise to return?”

  Anika followed the captain’s gaze, looking forward to the vastness of the cerulean world before her. “No. If after my business is finished and I am still alive, and this ship is still in port, I will return to it. You have my word.”

  Anika could sense that the captain wanted to follow up on the cryptic ‘still alive’ part of her statement, but he held his tongue.

  “As long as you keep your word about him.” Anika nodded toward Petr. She had a good feeling about the captain and his honor, but, in case, she was careful not to use Petr’s name.

  The captain twitched a nod. “You do.”

  Chapter 30

  TANJA REACHED THE HALFWAY point of the bridge and stopped, jarred to attention by a feeling
of recognition and knowing. She sniffed the air and then looked behind her, checking to see if the maintenance worker had indeed followed her. But there was only the bleak landscape of the shipyard, a concrete world encased in iron and rust, and the few people who now populated the grounds were already hard at work, barking out orders and tallying figures on clipboards, manning cranes and driving forklifts.

  On either side of her, over the sides of the bridge, Tanja saw only the cool blue water of the inlet over which the bridge spanned, placidly reflecting the sun’s rays, waiting patiently for the hulls of the boats that would be polluting it in a few hours.

  But the knowing feeling still blazed inside her, and as she looked directly out in front of her at the bay in the distance and the horizon beyond, she saw a jagged pattern of gray against the blue and white of the sky, as if a portion of the atmosphere had been jigsawed out. But it was no gap in the atmosphere she was seeing, it was the outline of a large container ship, and she knew instantly that it was the source of her feeling.

  The ship she was looking at currently wasn’t the specific one, it didn’t feel perfect, but it was the kind that would be arriving soon, eventually to take her to the New Country. To Anika and Gretel Morgan.

  There was no need to rush, though, she thought; the ship that would lead her to her destiny was on its way, but it wouldn’t be arriving until closer to dawn. She couldn’t have said how she knew it, other than to say she could now see the ship in her mind, as clearly as if she were floating above it over the ocean, watching from the sky as the vessel skidded the ocean toward the port that was now only a mile from where she stood. The vision in her mind created such a flood of adrenaline and joy within her that it felt almost like a hallucination. But no drug had passed over her tongue, no powder up her nose or poppy in her veins. It was an intoxication of truth. Of revenge. Of life.

  Despite her bliss and certainty, however, there were still logistics to work out. Tanja could feel the boat was on its way there, but there was no telling when it would be launching again once it arrived. It had cargo to unload, surely, and then it would likely be anchored for a few days after that.

  And a call had been made to the police about a strange woman sleeping in the shipyards, and soon the body of Garal would be discovered. And once his death was announced, Prisha would reveal her tale to the police, and it wouldn’t be long after that the docks would become flooded with authorities, asking questions and searching shipments.

  But it didn’t matter. She had come too far, discovered too much about her life and daughter and descendants. It was going to work out. It had to. She would slip on to the cargo ship soon after it arrived, and there she would wait. She barely needed food anymore, and there were more than enough places to hide on those massive ships, even after they’d been unloaded. She had, perhaps, in her wrath, made a grave mistake in telling the shipyard worker her desire to find a ship for the New Country while also allowing him to live. But even if he were courageous enough to expose those details, Tanja had implied she would be taking an ocean liner for her voyage, not a ship filled with steel containers.

  She reached the far side of the bridge and then walked toward the terminal, scanning the entire area at once, allowing this world of container storage hangars and semitrailers to offer up its clues. Eventually Tanja’s eyes settled on a small, house-like structure that looked as if it had been built for a child and sat just at the edge of the wharf.

  She walked to the miniature house and peered through the only window, a tiny, single pane of glass that was chest-high to Tanja. Inside, sitting at a desk, was a boy of about fourteen, and he was reading a book that looked to be at least a thousand pages long. She wrapped a knuckle on the glass and the boy looked up, catching Tanja’s eyes. The instant fear was obvious, but she smiled anyway, which likely made her look even more frightening.

  The boy looked away for a beat before turning back toward the window, as if testing whether the woman was really there. Tanja waved again and pointed at the door. He rose slowly and walked to the front of the structure and Tanja followed. She kept her nails sheathed. What she needed now was information; after that, whether he gave it to her or not, she would make sure the boy disappeared. No more witnesses. That was a promise she had made to herself. There were far too many scattered around the Eastern Lands as it was, and she certainly couldn’t afford another.

  “Can I help you?” The boy called through the door.

  Tanja was caught off guard, expecting the boy to open the door. “Um, yes you can, young man. I hope you can. I’ve been...I am expecting my son to arrive here. At this terminal. Some time today. Are you the person I should be speaking with about such things?”

  “No. My father is the wharf master. But he’s been called away for a bit. An emergency with his wife. I’m manning the station until he gets back.”

  Tanja saw this as an opportunity, though she couldn’t see exactly where it was. “I see. Well I hope your mother is okay.”

  “She’s not my mother,” the boy replied quickly. “My mother is dead.”

  “Oh, well, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made that assumption.” The dialogue was off to a rocky start, but the boy had offered intimate information to Tanja, which, she knew by now, was always a positive sign.

  “It’s okay,” the boy said, as if appreciative that Tanja hadn’t overdone it with the condolences. “What was it you wanted to know?”

  “Do you know if there is a schedule of ships? And a manifest of some kind?”

  “Of course.”

  “Would you mind opening the door...uh...I’m sorry lad, what is your name?” Tanja was making progress, but she wanted full control of the situation.

  There was a pause behind the door. “I’m Gerard.”

  “Yes, well, Gerard, could we speak face-to-face? Would that be okay?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Again, Tanja was thrown. “No?”

  “I can give you the names, times, and places of origins for the ships that will be arriving today. But only from behind this door. That’s my father’s rule when he’s gone.”

  Tanja closed her eyes and sighed. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, and a thin layer of moisture had formed over them. She smiled at the reaction, almost embarrassed by it. But she understood where it had come from, however deeply. She had no reason to kill this boy, and yet she was prepared to without hesitation. It was evil, and the traces of humanity that still remained within her had emerged for just a moment.

  “Of course,” she said. “This way is fine. But I don’t know any of the details you’ve just laid out. I was just told that he would be on a ship that will be headed next to the New Country. That is, after it delivers its cargo here.”

  “That’s a strange detail.”

  “Yes, I...I don’t know. As I’ve said, that’s what I was told.”

  There was another long pause and then, “Just a moment.”

  The boy was sharp of mind, and Tanja was now even more pleased that he hadn’t opened the door.

  Less than a minute passed when the boy returned to the door and said, “None of the ships arriving today are scheduled to leave for the New Country.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m looking at the manifest now. But that’s not unusual. Many ships have direct routes from the New Country to the Eastern Lands, but rarely is the reverse course true. Most of them go to the Old World first, or the Southern Continents, and then to the New Country.”

  Tanja felt the sting of disappointment resonate throughout her entire body, followed by a burn in her chest and seizing of her throat. She felt defeated, betrayed, lied to by the gifts of the universe that had arrived like angels so often in times of crises and need. But they had abandoned her this time. Orphism had abandoned her, and her belief that the time had come to let this eternal life end was reinforced.

  “But,” the boy continued, “there is a ship scheduled to arrive today that is coming from the New Country.”
/>   Tanja stayed silent, processing this news.

  “We haven’t heard any updates on their status as of now, but as it stands, they should be arriving around dawn.”

  Tanja turned and placed her back against the door and then collapsed to the pavement in front of the wharf master’s door, sitting now with her legs extended in front of her. She covered her hands with her mouth as the meaning came to her all at once, in an instant.

  She was never meant to go to the New Country to find Anika and Gretel Morgan.

  They were coming to her.

  “Ma’am, are you still there?”

  “I’m still here,” Tanja said, rising to her feet again, staring at the welcoming waters of the wharf with wide, weary eyes. “This ship you speak of, the one from the New Country, what time does it arrive?”

  THE ESC Mongkut appeared on the horizon, and judging by its distance—ten miles out, perhaps—it would be gliding into the harbor as scheduled. And when it did, Tanja would be waiting for it, exactly as she was now, standing atop the girder of the wharf’s container crane under which the ship would dock.

  After receiving the ship’s schedule from the wharf master’s son, she had climbed the crane ladder that led to the top walkway, ascending unseen behind the empty operator’s cabin. She now stood at the edge of the long steel jib, a narrow girder that extended out of the massive machine over the water of the harbor.

  She had been in this position for hours now, but her legs felt lithe and prepared. The lifeforce streaming through her blood made her feel solid, her muscles twitchy and strong, her body like a supple statue of iron and steel.

  “It’s here,” she whispered. “They’re here.”

  Chapter 31

  “WHAT IS THAT?” ANIKA asked, pointing into the distance at a crane rising from the edge of the wharf.

  The ship had begun its docking procedures and was pulling in port side along the quay. The captain followed the direction of Anika’s finger. “It’s a crane. It’s what they use to unload the containers.”