With stifled snickers and a bit of comic fumbling they fought off their clothes while trying to remain silent. In another moment he was on top of her, the two of them taking in the sublime sensation of skin on skin. No more than twenty minutes passed from when they finally climaxed to when she rolled on top of him again. This time they took their time, reveling in the sensation of being physically connected. They quietly laughed and played and snuggled and whispered their shared relief at having finally done it. When they finally slept, they threw caution to the wind and remained naked.
In the next room the twins found it very hard not to invade the lover’s thoughts.
That. Was. Disgusting.
They seemed happy.
Gross. Disgusting.
The feelings were happy. I liked that.
Just made me hungry.
Yes, hungry.
There are small animals outside. I can hear them, feel them searching about for food.
Let’s go eat some.
They quietly rose from their sleeping mats and stepped to the platform, their huge eyes letting in plenty of light to see. Knowing that they would be spotted by the night watch, they didn’t leave the edge of the train. Instead, they crouched to the ground and called out with their minds to the small rodents that hunted in the night.
Along with the taste of the blood and the meat and the gristle, they shared the sensations that the dying animals felt and they giggled with the pleasure of it. Then they noticed the girl or rather, felt her thoughts coming from above them. They both looked up and offered gory tooth-filled smiles. The girl stood leaning her head out an open window. Gretel said aloud, “Hello… Brandy. Your name is Brandy. Are you hungry?”
The girl drew back her head slightly and suddenly spit down on them while quickly withdrawing back into the train.
Gretel wiped the spittle off her face and rubbed it on her pants. Hansel wiped his own cheek and tasted the spit instead. Gretel said, “Now that, is disgusting.”
“Perhaps, but I can say that eating her tongue would be a delicacy.”
At dawn, after everyone ate their fill, the group assembled on the tracks with what they could carry. Twenty people, in a wasteland that once held millions, began to march south along the river’s edge. Dean found himself walking tall as he enjoyed playing back the night with Eliza. They couldn’t make eye contact with their helmets on but she let him know she was thinking about him by letting her hand occasionally brush against his. Sanders caught the motion and smiled to himself. The couple wasn’t fooling anybody. You didn’t need to be a clairvoyant telepath to pick up the vibe. It was good to see his boss happy. Sanders reminded himself to keep the captain sharp.
The march was straightforward. Perpetual winter had kept plant growth at bay and the concrete design of the river system made for easy walking, all of it slightly downhill. Just north of the junction of the 105 and 710 freeways, the tributary fed into the main river. From there it was a straight shot to the Port of Long Beach. They stopped to eat and rest near an area called the Dominguez Gap Wetlands and marveled that there were birds there. For two of the birds, the encounter went poorly as Hansel and Gretel made their lunch of them. To a man and woman, the rest of the team remained astonished, watching as the pucks simply called out with their minds while the birds flew to their doom. After two more hours of walking they crossed over the Anaheim Street Bridge and continued south until they arrived at the mouth of the river and the rail tracks and roads that led away from the port. They had become inured to the random heaps of chaos that was left of the L.A. sprawl, but they nevertheless were stunned by what lay before them. The satellite photos that they had to work from told the tale from the sky, but to see it in person… The ports of L.A. and Long Beach shared the same stretch of waterfront and together made up what was formerly the Long Beach Naval Complex. Before Omega it was the busiest port system in the Western U.S. In the panic that ensued as the Cain’s virus hit, thousands upon thousands of people thought to flee by anything that might float, but were stymied by a national and international quarantine that kept that in check. The harbors were overflowing with ships that had not been allowed to leave. A U.S. Destroyer squadron whose modern history was primarily made up of humanitarian actions in Southeast Asia and Oceania were called upon to blockade the ports and sink anything headed for open ocean.
The Delfshaven remained docked where the photos said it would be. Like everything else made from metal around the shore, the big ship was a heap of weeping rust, yet it was very much afloat. To everyone’s relief, the long segments of wind turbine shafts remained bolted to the purpose-built deck. And though filthy from brutal weather, the non-corrosive elements they were made from seemed to be holding up well. Ragged human skeletons lay in heaps as far as the eye could see. The good fortune that the group was feeling almost completely overshadowed the evidence of a decade old horror that lay scattered at their feet. Had the crew not lived through it in one form or another, the imagination was nearly incapable of filling in the blanks as to the final days and hours of so many men, women, children, pets. Thus the group staring at the big ship barely acknowledged the carnage around them.
First things first. Blakely and Dean climbed down into the dark damp engine room and checked the fuel. The twin diesels that powered the propellers had test valves with a glass viewer to see the color and texture of the fuel. When Blakely turned the knob for the one, nothing came out. The second showed a slow stream of black sludge. The color should have been golden with a consistency slightly more viscous than regular gasoline. He said, “Well shit and pardon my French.” He turned to Dean who said, “You don’t need to say anymore. I doubt these engines will even start without a full overhaul. We’ll need to flush out the tanks, find some decontaminant and finally some good fuel.”
“Probably best to know if there’s any good fuel first.”
The ship was littered with ragged skeletons, and with utter detachment, the crew unceremoniously tossed them into the harbor. Everyone found a room. Dean and Eliza decided to chuck pretense and move into the captain’s cabin together. The twins bunked in an adjoining room with two beds. KK took on the job of looking after Brandy, though Brandy felt quite certain that she could look after herself. There was plenty of room on board so it wasn’t long before everyone had found a bunk and they gathered again for supper. Though the stores in the galley had been sacked, Cookie found the propane in the galley to be fairly full and he was able to whip together a hot meal from their provisions that filled everyone enough. They would have to scrounge for more in the morning. Jamesbonds chose to sleep outside. He had always felt claustrophobic on the train, especially with the puck’s wandering subconscious minds. The cloud cover had teased them over the past few days, thinning until he could almost see the sun. As he lay on deck that night, he hoped to see a glimpse of a star or two. It had been so long since he’d seen a star filled night that his primal self simply ached for it.
Hernandez took first watch and observed Jamesbonds for a while as he laid out his camp. Then she scanned the shore, not even considering a threat from the sea.
“The hunt is back on,” declared Plimpton, his buoyed spirits evident to all. They had come upon the Northerner’s abandoned train and the fresh footprints in the dust leading south.
“You’ll forgive me, sir,” said Timbs, “but what exactly are we hunting again?” Plimpton offered the man a tilted head with mild surprise and confusion written on his features. Timbs continued, “It’s just that we have come so far and, these Northerners just keep going and, I’m having trouble understanding–”
Plimpton held up a hand. “Forgiven.” He looked at them all with a long beat of silence, thus ensuring their full attention. The Vicar gave him a warm smile and then he pointed South saying, “They have clearly sent this expedition in the hopes of gaining something great. It is my intent that we gain that something instead.”
“But, sir,” said Timbs, “We’ve crossed th
e whole continent. What if they are just trying to discover what’s out here?”
Thompson said, “Timbs, you’re out of line. You’re not here to question the mission, you’re here to-”
“No, sir. I volunteered to follow the Northerners to the Mississippi. You said that was as far as we would go. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we are in Los Angeles.” He looked at the dead buildings in the fading light. “Or Hell if you’d prefer.”
“You’re insubordinate, Timbs.”
Plimpton said, “It’s okay, Major.” He looked at Timbs and then the others who followed Timb’s lead with expectant faces. “Discovered it as well we have. Discover more we will. Discovery in this case is knowledge for our nation. It is incumbent upon us to continue this quest so that at the very least we may return and report that which is so. It’s rather simple. Does this satisfy your curiosity?”
Timbs glanced at the others and then nodded. “We’ve come this far.”
“Still insubordinate, Timbs.”
“My curiosity is satisfied, sir.”
The Northerners had left behind more food than they could carry and the Shoremen ate well.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Watched
The first search for diesel proved fruitless. The obvious sources on shore (fuel stations and storage tanks) were either empty or contaminated. They ended their day reluctantly accepting the need to logistically and painstaking search individual vessels. Grumblings were heard about coming so far – and for what purpose? There were exhausted groans about possibly turning back without the prize. For morale purposes, Dean insisted that everyone eat together in the ship’s cafeteria. Only Green was allowed to be absent to take watch. Somewhat despondent himself, Dean had nothing much to offer as a pep talk, but he fudged it anyway. “Kudos to Alice and Bill for digging up the ingredients for tonight’s meal. Canned or not, it’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed Mexican. Tomorrow we begin going boat to boat. Marshall Blakely has volunteered to lead the search. A reward of ten hours of uninterrupted sleep to the person or persons who finds clean diesel. On a happy note, we have found plenty of cleaning agents. Naoto, Abner and Maggie will take the optimistic route and begin scrubbing out the fuel tanks in the morning.” The three sailors looked at each other and grimaced.
Later, in the captain’s quarters, Eliza stood with a blanket pulled tightly around herself. They had heated water with a canister of propane and portable grill that they had dug out of a dockworker’s shed. A pot of fresh water and some soap meant a much needed sponge bath. She had let Dean watch her wash and now she found herself in the same position as he dipped a small towel in the warm water and scrubbed his bare legs. It was cold, but he showed no sign of it as he stood unreservedly naked as though he did it every night. He had a well sculpted body that matched his chiseled features and she found herself with a lump of desire in her throat as his muscles twitched with each movement. He glanced at her and then looked harder when he caught her eyes. The dim light of the portable LED lantern left her dilated pupils looking big, black, and inviting. He smiled and she said, “Don’t stop on my account.”
He waved a finger at her. “Come here. I can’t reach my back.” His voice got husky. “And I noticed that you had a little trouble reaching yours.”
She smiled and took the rag, while letting the blanket drop.
It was two-thirty in the morning and Jamesbonds awoke on the deck with a start. He had drifted off, having stared at the sky for hours, hoping for a glimpse of a star, or a planet. Years of living under constant dread of one or more of his Nantucket neighbors deciding to quit taking the anti-Cain’s drugs had trained his brain to wake and be instantly aware of his surroundings. He focused on one of the huge container cranes that lined the dock; the top of it and its long arm well above the deck of the Delfshaven. He stared at the steel beams and girders that made up the superstructure of the machine, and as he did, he noticed that something seemed out of place. The moon must have been full beyond the clouds, because the dark silhouette of the crane was very clear. He looked harder and became convinced that something extra was attached to the machine; something that seemed superfluous. He tried to imagine what the lump might be. Was that movement? He stared at the machine until his eyes started to see spots and sparks with the unblinking strain – and there it was again. He sat up and looked harder. It must have been a trick of the eye. Sometimes when he had been night fishing as a youth, if he had looked too hard at a thing it would seem to move or waver – there it was again – unmistakable. A long jointed something slowly lifted up and settled again. His heart skipped a beat. He had been face to face with such a thing – been nearly killed on the Ginger Girl by such a thing. He slowly stood while still staring and began to move toward the conning tower where Green was on watch. He walked backwards, mostly relying on his peripheral vision in order not to trip until he reached the stairs. He would have to go up two flights to reach the top. Upon reaching the first level he scanned the crane and saw the lump was still there. At the second level he looked again and it was gone. He offered up a list of creative obscenities and quickly found Green, who was vaguely scrutinizing the shore. “Psst, Sergeant Green.”
Green turned at the sound. If he had been startled, he didn’t show it. “What’s going on, Mr. Boonmee?”
Jamesbonds pointed at the crane and then leaned out looking at its base. “I saw” –
“Where is your helmet, sir?”
Jamesbonds touched his head and quietly offered up more obscenities, telling himself, “Jamesbonds, you have dog’s balls for brains.” His helmet was right were he had left it, where he had been sleeping. He pointed at the crane. “One of those spider drones was there. I’m certain of it. It is gone now.”
Green stepped forward, his own helmet more than letting him see the crane and the area around it. He saw nothing.
“It was there. I promise.”
“Did you see it with your helmet on?”
Jamesbonds continued to search with his trusted eyes. “No, but it was there. It moved off when I was coming up the stairs.”
“There’s nothing there. Maybe you weren’t fully awake when you were seeing this?”
“The crane had a lump on it. It moved. I saw it as I was coming up the stairs. Now it’s gone.”
Green scanned some more and finally said, “Quiet thing then.”
“Yes. Very.”
“Okay. Put your helmet back on and keep watch from the deck where you’re bunked. You see something else, call me up on the com.”
“So you believe me?”
“I believe that you believe what you saw. I believe that we leave nothing to chance. We’ll tell the next watch in an hour. Keep an eye out.”
Jamesbonds nodded and walked back down the stairs. He lay awake staring for a very long time, straining his eyes until eventually he nodding off.
Dean was furious on deck the next morning. His ire with Green burst out in front of most of the crew as they prepped for the day. “How is it possible that one of our most sharp-eyed men tells you that he sees one of those things and you don’t wake me up? You don’t quickly tell Hernandez? You don’t immediately organize a scouting party?”
Green shot back, “Neither one of us could put eyes on anything when Mr. Boonmee reported his sighting. It was clear to me that he was uncertain of what he saw.”
Dean looked at Jamesbonds, who shook his head ever so slightly. Green saw it and exploded, “If you where certain, then why the fuck did you go back to bed?”
“Because you told me to. But I kept watch for hours.”
Green shrugged his shoulders at Dean as if to say: What am I supposed to do with that?
Dean stepped closer to the soldier while pointing at the distant crane. “You are the professional here, not him. You had the watch. Not him.”
“Oh fuck off, you hypocrite.” Green pointed at Elizaandra. “I didn’t wake you because I figured you were already awake fuckin
g her!”
“Sergeant!” barked Hernandez. “You’re out of line!”
Eliza raised an eyebrow and stepped back inside.
It took all Dean had not to punch the man while his temper flared equally at himself. He needed to nip it in the bud for everyone. “What Ms. Sherr and I do behind closed doors is our business alone. You do your… no…” He looked at anybody in earshot. “Everyone does their jobs and we get through this thing.” He glared harder at Green. “When we, as individuals, are lucky enough to enjoy some leisure time, that’s our time. Personal time. Nobody’s leisure impinges on anyone’s duty. That includes me and Ms. Sherr.” He let his stare bore into Green. “Comprende?” He turned to Hernandez and said, “Get a squad together and scout our perimeter. If those drone folks have found us, we need to know right away.”
Hernandez offered him a grin that said, you’re a douche bag while at the same time saying. “Aye aye, Captain. Green, you and-”
“No,” said Dean. “Green gets some rack time. Dismissed, Sergeant.” Green offered a half-assed salute and began to walk inside. Dean looked back at Hernandez, while speaking loudly for everyone, “You spot something. You call it in right away.”
“Like I said, aye aye, Captain.”
Dean found Eliza standing at a filthy window, gazing at the shore. Before he could speak she said, “We need to end this.” He began to respond, but she put a finger to his lips. “It’s already too much of a distraction. I find myself wanting to be with you rather than doing anything else. It’s mostly brain chemicals and if we stop, so will the chemicals. There will be some withdrawal, which will suck, but it’s for the best.”
Dean felt his heart deflate. She was right of course, but still… It had been working. He looked into her eyes and could see how very much she didn’t want to embrace her own logic. He gave a slight laugh at the absurdity of it; two people who are falling… Two people like that should be able to explore it, dammit. She smiled with understanding and offered her own slight laugh through her nose. He said, “Agreed under protest.”
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