by Jordan Rivet
“Have you seen Hawthorne lately?” Esther asked as they climbed down the long staircase to the concrete pathway bordering the harbor.
“Not since he had dinner with Chelle last night. Looked pretty cozy,” Zeke said.
Esther stomped a little too hard on the next step, and he raised a thick eyebrow at her.
It had been David’s third dinner date with Chelle, and he still hadn’t found the satellite phone. But he was moving around the island more freely without anyone stopping him. The guards seemed much more worried about Esther than about him. Maybe he was making progress. Was she a fool for believing that was why he spent so much time with his freckled friend?
“This is where the most recent landslide was,” Zeke said, as if sensing her need to change the subject. He pointed at a newly paved swath right beside the staircase.
The slide had exposed a chunky layer of volcanic rock. Bright patches of green still appeared here and there on the crumbling hillside.
“Happened about two months before you turned up, back when that massive storm tore up half the sea.”
Esther remembered that storm well. It had come out of nowhere and ripped the Catalina away from the Galaxy Flotilla, leaving her stranded—with David.
“Were you here then?” she asked Zeke.
“Yeah,” he said. “Just in from a patrol off Hawaii. Thought the Island might sink the rest of the way into the sea.”
“Did you lose any ships?”
“The alcove protects them,” Zeke said. “The rain was murder on the hillside, though, and the waves were rough enough to destroy the dock.”
They reached the end of the concrete walkway and approached the floating dock. It was made of thick chunks of plastic bound tightly together with more plastic. Plastic was the one thing that was still easy to salvage at sea.
“Why bother repairing the dock?” Esther asked.
Another storm was sure to destroy it. That always happened when people tried to rebuild on land too close to the sea. She didn’t understand why the Calderon Group was fighting so hard to make their life on the Island work.
“You could say that about most of what we do,” Zeke said. “Why bother?”
Esther frowned. “Yeah, but the dock isn’t even necessary if you have enough small boats.”
“It’s nice to have a bit of permanence,” Zeke said.
“Is that why you stay with the Calderon Group?” Esther asked. “Permanence?”
She had wondered what kept reasonable men like Zeke and Harry attached to an organization that would kidnap someone and then starve him. One that would attack and kill, seemingly without hesitation. But then her friends Cody, Luke, and Patrick had joined the Harvesters, a group that had tortured their own prisoner. Were they really any better?
And she herself had been willing to fight whoever it took to save the people she cared about.
Zeke was quiet for a moment. The clomp of their boots mixed with the wind whistling across the peak above them. The flimsy dock, an illusion of stability, swayed with each step. The water around it was thick with algae. The Calderon Group had been collecting it on Esther’s instructions, but there was still plenty, and it grew fast.
Finally, Zeke spoke. “It’s a job, the Calderon. I joined because I needed something to do, some way to make a living. I was on an oil tanker when the disaster hit. We wandered the sea for a while, back when we hoped things on land would clear up quick. When we figured that wasn’t going to happen, we had to make our way, same as everyone else. Eventually most of my buddies decided to become Calderon men. They weren’t the most scrupulous bunch, but it was as good a gig as any. After a while we became a community, just like when you work for any company for long enough. You go to each other’s weddings. Your kids learn to swim together. You become a family. Well, you’re young enough that you wouldn’t know what that was like before, but it’s not all that different here and now.”
“What about the attacks? The casualties? You’re basically pirates,” Esther said.
“In a world without laws, you don’t care so much who’s stealing and who’s trading,” Zeke said. “You just want a place you can go home to, a group of people you understand, even if you don’t like what they do all the time.”
They reached the end of the dock, where the Sultana loomed over their heads. Esther had been surprised to see the big cruise ship the first time she visited the harbor. She had assumed all of the Calderon ships would be light, versatile vessels suited for attacking and then darting away. But the Calderon Group had acquired a cruise ship a few years ago, and now it sat within the crescent arms of the harbor like a beached whale.
“I was on the ship that found her,” Zeke had told Esther. “Just floatin’ there, empty. Not a soul or a body in sight. We never did find out whether people had lived there before abandoning her or if she’d been alone at sea all that time. Her fuel chambers were bone-dry, but Burns decided to tow her in, in case we ever got too big for the base. Took a lot to tug ’er here, but after you fix up the power she’ll be a regular floating barracks.”
Esther and Zeke climbed the rope ladder to the Sultana’s lowest deck. She was probably wasting her time outfitting this ship if they were never planning to sail her (they could always use wind and solar for the living quarters), but there was only one other large ship in the harbor at the moment, and she’d already finished working on it. She’d also installed her system on two smaller Calderon ships, which were now back at sea. Probably hunting the Terra Firma. Esther didn’t like following that line of thought. She was painfully aware that it had been a week since she left Zoe at the mercy of the Metal Harvesters.
The hulking Sultana was very quiet, with its empty cabins and neglected engines. No one had wanted to move onto her from the warm depths of the Island. Esther didn’t like working here and wished another ship would come back to port. She hadn’t seen very many people around the Island over the past few days, even though she’d been moving back and forth to work on the ships. It didn’t seem like the Island would one day hold so many people that they would need the rooms on this vessel. Everyone must be out on patrol.
No one would tell her anything about the other ships’ movements, of course. Esther wondered about their communication systems. She had begun to suspect that the Calderon Group had been using the satellites. Perhaps that was how they coordinated their attacks without their victims picking up radio transmissions. She held out hope that David would get her satellite phone back, but it could compromise their position to send a message to the Catalina too soon.
Esther headed down to the Sultana’s engine room, and Zeke followed. He settled in on a metal catwalk above the engine while she worked on the separator on the bottom level.
“Want to sink?” Zeke offered her the crumbling substance, wrapped in a piece of old foil.
“No, thanks,” Esther said. “Gotta focus.”
“Suit yourself.”
The narcotic was a weakness for Zeke. Esther wouldn’t tell anyone he chewed on the job—and he knew it. He had explained how it worked, making one mellow and hyper by turns. Esther paid careful attention to how long Zeke was sinking (on a mellow turn) and how long he was floating. Every bit of information could help if Burns reneged on his promise of safe passage.
It was lunchtime when David finally appeared. He stepped over Zeke snoozing on the catwalk and joined Esther by the separator. She was covered in sweat and had just pulled herself out from under an algae tube. It was difficult work to do by herself. There were never enough Calderon mechanics free to help her. Serves them right if they can’t fix this thing the first time it breaks, she thought.
David was supposed to help her, but he had been arriving later and later every day. His movements weren’t monitored as closely as hers, and he walked down without a guard today. It was almost like he had become a member of the Calderon family himself. The thought gave Esther a sour feeling in her stomach.
David wore a new red sweater and carried
a metal pail. Steam rose from the top.
“Brought you some lunch,” he said. “It’s the usual mush, but I’ve got some decent oysters in my pocket. Here.”
“You’re late,” Esther said as she took the pail full of boiled seaweed.
David smiled and leaned against one of the six big engines. He looked much healthier than he had when she arrived a week ago. His handsome face had begun to fill out again. She eyed the fresh red yarn of his sweater.
“The cook was telling me about his room allotment,” David said. “It’s way down on Level 6. I suggested he ask for an upgrade, because he’s responsible for the morale of the island as well as its sustenance.”
“Good for you,” Esther said shortly.
David sounded like a Galaxy spokesman again, spinning people’s perceptions to his advantage. Maybe he belongs in a place like this.
“Anyway,” David continued, “he gave me the oysters as thanks, so I’d say it was worth the delay, wouldn’t you?” He pulled the shells, already partly open, from his pocket and handed half of them to her.
Yes, he would do well for himself with the Calderon Group. Especially with Chelle around.
Esther took the oysters. “New sweater?” she asked more sharply than she intended.
“Huh? Oh yeah.” David’s smooth demeanor wavered.
“I’m sure Chelle thinks you look very nice,” Esther said, and immediately wished she hadn’t.
“Chelle?”
“I assume she gave it to you.” Why can’t I keep my mouth shut? She shouldn’t care who was giving him sweaters.
David looked at his clean sleeve and then back at Esther’s heat-reddened face. “She did,” he said slowly.
“Hmm.” Esther cracked open an oyster and averted her eyes.
Suddenly, David threw an oyster shell to the floor, making Zeke start in his sleep.
“Damn it, Esther. What’s the matter?” David said.
“Nothing,” she said around the mouthful of slippery shellfish.
“You’re terrible at hiding it when you’re mad. You’re pissed at me, and I don’t understand why. Is it because I was late to help out? I just get in your way.”
Esther didn’t want to answer. It seemed petty.
“What do you think?” she said.
He stared at her, incredulous. “I don’t know.” He paused. Zeke snored lightly from his perch above them. Then David threw up his hands. “Is this about Chelle?!”
Esther stared back at him, still chewing.
“Come on. That’s not fair,” David said. He glanced up at Zeke and lowered his voice. “I need Chelle to get to the satellite phone.”
Esther swallowed. “Convenient.”
“You told me to work out an exit strategy.”
“And you’re doing such a good job,” Esther said.
“Where does all this hostility come from?” David began to pace, frustrated. “Seriously, Esther, I’m trying to help both of us. You don’t think I’m selling you out or betraying you somehow, do you?”
Esther wanted to throw her own oyster shell but resisted. She folded her arms. “After I came halfway across the rusting sea for you, it’s pretty rich of you to act so clueless.”
“How have I betrayed you?” David said, then whirled to face her. “You mean with Chelle? You haven’t exactly laid a claim on me.”
“That answers one thing then.” Now Esther did slam the empty oyster shell down on the deck.
“You’ve barely spoken to me since you got here, Esther! What am I supposed to think?”
David strode back and forth in front of the engines. His hair stood up from his forehead. He pulled his sleeves up to his elbows, then tugged them back down again. Suddenly, he rounded on Esther.
“When you turned up in my cell,” he said, “I wanted to hold you and kiss you and never leave your side, but you’ve been completely cold. I thought for a minute you actually came to save me just because you wanted to, not as some sort of payment for my help back on the Galaxy.”
He seemed to want to say more, but he stopped abruptly and kicked one of the oyster shells across the engine room, breathing hard.
Esther stood bolted to the deck. David was just out of reach, his face flushed. She had never seen him lose control like this. It nudged something in her, like an odd gear clicking into place.
Finally, she whispered, “I did.”
“You did what?”
“I did come for you, not just to pay back a debt. I was terrified you would be hurt the entire time. It still makes me queasy, thinking about how worried I was.” Her voice faltered. “I would have done anything to get you back, but when I got here you seemed . . . I wasn’t sure if you were happy to see me.”
In answer, David closed the gap between them and brought his mouth to hers.
The kiss was insistent at first, desperate. Then their mouths slowed as they held each other close. Esther’s head swirled with heat and vertigo and relief. Gently, David lowered her back down to the ground. She hadn’t even noticed him lifting her into the air. His hands found her waist, her arms. She gripped his shoulders and the smooth planes of his neck. His broken glasses tipped sideways on his face. At some point Esther remembered to breathe. Cold metal touched her back; David had pressed her up against the engine. She twisted her fingers into the knit of his sweater and tugged it upward as he slid his hands beneath her belt.
A horn blast shattered the air.
“Huh, what?” Zeke called out from his stupor.
The horn split through the room again, and Esther pushed David away.
“We’re under attack!” Zeke shouted, then cursed as he lost his balance and fell heavily on the metal catwalk. “They’ll need me on the Charley. Help me up.”
David regained his senses a half second faster than Esther did. He straightened his clothing and squeezed her hand. “This might be our opening. Stay close to me.”
He ran lightly up to the catwalk, where Zeke was struggling to maintain his footing. David steadied the bigger man and turned him toward the door. “I’ll take your charge back to the big house, mate. Go to your ship. Don’t worry about her.”
“You’re a good man,” Zeke slurred. “She’s a good girl. She won’t cause you any trouble.”
Zeke lurched along the walkway and out of the engine room.
Esther, barely daring to breathe, was filling her belt with any tools that could double as weapons.
Chapter 29—Attack
SECONDS LATER, ESTHER AND David were running up a metal service stairwell. The emergency horn grew louder. David talked quickly as they climbed.
“We need to make it look like I’m really taking you back to the workshop, in case anyone sees us. Could be a false alarm.”
“I can’t believe Zeke. Good thing you’ve been making friends,” Esther said, keeping pace with David easily. She felt foam-light, almost drunk with adrenaline. The feeling of David’s hands was still pressed into her body, bright like an afterimage.
“Told you I was working on our exit strategy. I scoped out the living quarters of Burns’s inner circle. They have a meeting room on Level 1. I’m almost positive your sat phone ended up in there. We can slip in while everyone’s distracted.”
“Should we just make a break for it? Jack one of the smaller boats?” Esther said as they dashed out onto the deck of the Sultana.
The sky was an angry gray, and rain misted down over the Island. Shouts and the roar of engines echoed across the harbor.
“Depends what’s going on,” David said.
The steep hillside at the harbor’s edge boiled with activity. Crewmen for the Charley, one of the Calderon attack ships, ran along the concrete pathway and down the steep staircase, some still stuffing the last of their lunches into their mouths. Already more people were on the move than Esther had seen on the Island since the Fourth. Smaller speedboats sputtered toward the mouth of the harbor. A siren blared from the roof of the facility.
“This way,” David said.
“Try not to look like you’re about to kill someone.”
Esther put the heavy wrench she’d been brandishing back into her belt. They climbed down from the deck of the Sultana and ran along the dock toward the facility. It swayed beneath their feet. Calderon men dashed past, but no one did more than glance at them.
David caught Harry’s arm as he rushed by. “What’s going on?” David asked.
“Harvesters attacking!” Harry said, his hazel eyes shining. “They brought reinforcements and snuck around to the north. They’re fighting our patrols.”
“Where’s Burns?”
“Out on the Juliet. Why?”
Harry didn’t wait to hear the answer. He ran out to meet the attack, David and Esther already forgotten.
“This is it, Esther!” David crowed, reaching down to squeeze her hand. “The perfect opening.”
She held onto him as they jogged up the stairs and headed toward the compound. Their boots slipped on the steps. The rain fell harder. Esther’s heart and brain were on overdrive. They couldn’t mess this up. This might be their only chance.
At the doorway to the facility, they stepped aside to let more Calderon men out, keeping their heads down, and then slipped inside. The siren still wailed. David led the way down the corridor.
“What’s the security like here?” Esther whispered.
Her boots slipped and squeaked on the linoleum floor. The lights blazed.
“There are usually people around, but they’re not guarding anything. The Calderon people trust each other. I’d probably have free rein in another week or two if I kept at it.”
David rounded a corner and arrived at a blue door. The corridor around them was deserted.
“This is the one.”
He listened for a moment, then pushed open the door.
“You’d think a group of pirates would at least keep their doors locked,” Esther said as she followed him inside.
A big oval table took up most of the room. The walls were unadorned, except for a collection of charts on the right side. Boxes were stacked along the back.