by PJ Sharon
Chapter 26
The hours until dawn passed in excruciating increments. More than sleeping on the hard, cold metal, lying in close proximity to Will was particularly uncomfortable. His body radiated an appealing warmth for which my pride and good sense were no match. Sleep eluded me as I lay awake, my head resting on Will’s chest and his arms tucked neatly around me. His steady breathing let me know he was sleeping soundly—the rat. I wanted to hate him, yet every genetically enhanced cell of my being couldn’t fight the desire to be close to him.
Worse was that he’d finally told me what he wanted to tell me back at the church. Before he’d fallen asleep, while he held me tight in his arms, he’d told me what he’d learned from Graves about Agent Marx. I could hear him choosing his words carefully in the dark, unable to watch my face for a reaction.
“When Graves was…interrogating me, he told me something about Agent Marx.” The words came faster and I steadied myself for the impact of hearing that they knew I had killed the man, but what Will said next took a minute to digest. “Marx was the Life-taker who…killed your father.”
My mouth fell open. Shock hit me like a punch, and I bolted upright, my mind reeling from this new piece of information, and locked in the dark, cold box, I had nowhere to go to escape the truth of it. “Are you sure,” was all I could say.
“I don’t think he was lying. He was convinced you recognized Marx in Stanton and that you, Zeph, or Sam had killed him and ditched the body. Apparently Marx disappeared right after he reported that he’d located you.” Will’s voice shook, the cold night air compounding the eeriness of giving such news in the echo of a metal crate. “I’m sorry to tell you like this, but I thought you would want to know. There just hasn’t been a good time…”
We’d talked a while longer, but there wasn’t much to say. I needed time to process the fact that I had unintentionally killed my father’s killer, a monster with a face I’d spent a lifetime blocking out. There in the dark, all I saw was the face of the man I’d seen in Higgins’ Market, looming above me, mocking me at the sick irony of the situation. The guilt I’d carried these past days suddenly dissipated, replaced with a sense of satisfaction that I had avenged my father’s death, and a hollow emptiness that told me it would never be enough. I shook off my confusion over how I should feel, and fell into a restless sleep.
When the sounds of morning activity out on the dock reached my ears, and the dark chill of night gave way to streaks of warm sunlight across the floor, a wave of relief swept through me. Despite the churning sea of emotions that persisted, I felt a renewed sense of confidence that I had acted rightly, happy to release the weight of believing I’d killed an innocent man. I was ready to let go and move on.
Once the container was loaded on the ship, we could sneak out and find another place to hide until the ship came to port somewhere down river, and we could escape into the cover of the Northeast Hills.
I set my shoulders firmly as I sat up, feeling stronger than I’d felt in days. After we were well out of Albany, I’d move on from this unwise attachment to Will. The thought left my stomach feeling hollow, but I had to cut him loose. I wanted him nowhere near Stanton or my family with everything that had happened.
Will groaned and stretched, coming to full consciousness when the sound of cables overhead brought us both to attention. I skittered to the wall of the steel box and latched onto a wood rail as the container began to move and sway. Will rolled to the other wall and grabbed the rail on his side, slivers of light shining through the cracks to illuminate the startled look on his face.
Rising up slowly, the metal creaked and groaned around us. Then we were swinging through the air at an alarming rate. The huge crate swung back and forth and finally came to stillness. My stomach rocked and rolled with the movement. Slowly, we were lowered to the solid deck of the ship, my heart rate settling to a robust thump in my ears.
The noise continued for some time. Voices shouted, men alternately cursed and laughed, shuffling around the containers, until finally the chatter subsided.
“Let’s get out of here,” Will whispered.
“Not a minute too soon,” I agreed, the salty tang of sweat breaking out above my lip. I wiped my brow. “I thought those guys would never leave,” I whispered across the eight-foot steel bed. The air had grown stiflingly hot and our water had run out an hour ago. We had talked about waiting it out until dark, but we’d be dead of dehydration or heat stroke by then. Worse was that we both needed to pee in the worst way.
Will nodded and went straight to the double doors and rested his ear against the metal. “I think we’re in the clear, but we’ll have to move fast.”
Finding our way to the cargo bay was our next order of business. We would hide there until the ship docked in Hudson. We hadn’t talked about what would happen once we were off the ship. I reminded myself to focus on the short term plan. At least I’d gotten Sam’s medicine.
Now all I had to do was make it home. Getting there on foot over the hundred miles of dangerous back country roads was a prospect I couldn’t think about just yet.
Will slid the bolt up and pushed the door open slowly. He stuck his head out and then pulled it back. He mouthed the word “clear,” and slipped out into the midmorning sunshine and onto the upper deck of a large freighter. The name Sophia was painted in tall black letters across the white chimney stack. Coal smoke billowed into the air as the engines roared to life.
We tunneled through the maze of box cars and storage containers, coming out to an open area that we would have to sneak across while remaining out of sight. There would definitely be Guardians looking for us, and it seemed a given that they would be checking the ships leaving port.
Will ducked low and skidded across the deck to press his back against a wall. He waved me forward. I tiptoed across the deck and came to his side, my heart about to explode in my chest. He signaled for me to follow and I stayed at his heels as we snuck past several doorways. We reached the first set of stairs going down and both breathed a sigh of relief when we closed the door behind us with no one the wiser.
When we reached the bottom of the stairs, Will pushed me back, plastering me against a wall with his back to my front. Footsteps rushed past the doorway and down a corridor. When the sound disappeared, I shoved Will off of me. “I don’t need your protection,” I hissed.
“Sorry,” he whispered as he turned to face me, his eyes going hard. “But if you get caught, I get caught.”
Will slipped through the doorway, and we proceeded down the corridor and into the next stairwell leading downward. My stomach churned with acid as we made our way deeper into the ship’s belly. Although I knew better than to think otherwise, his words still stung. I should have known it wasn’t just my best interest he was protecting.
Even so, I followed blindly. Will seemed to have an instinctive knowledge of his way around the ship, his confidence with the twists and turns making me wonder if he might have done this before. Father Stavros’s diagram of the inner workings of the ship, even with my photographic memory, had left me thinking I’d never find my way around once on board.
We dodged a few more crewmen, ducked our way past the galley, down one more narrow flight of steps, made a quick latrine stop, and finally reached what would be our hiding place for the day—a dark, damp, swampy-smelling corner behind some old wooden crates in the deepest part of the hull.
“No one will ever find us here.” I settled myself down and leaned against the cold hard iron of a wall, tucking my knees up under my chin as a chill ran through me. A rat scuttled across the floor and disappeared behind another crate.
“That’s the plan, anyway.” Will and I sat shoulder to shoulder. He leaned his head back and shrugged tension out of his neck, stretching until several concussive pops emanated from his spine. “According to Father Stavros, this ship will put into port down river in Hudson. Then we can make our way back to Claverack and catch onto Route twenty-three.”
He shifted and cleared his throat before responding. “Yeah, you’re probably right. It would be best for both of us if we go on alone at that point.”
“Will you keep looking for your father?”
“I know he was in Albany.” Will hesitated. He studied his fingers for a moment. “The picture the agent showed me had my dad in the same room where they held me. I think they moved him shortly before I got there. I heard Agent Graves talking about it.”
“Well…I hope you find him.” It was all I could say behind the lump in my throat. If it had been me and someone was holding Sam or Zeph prisoner, what would I do to free either of them? Would I betray a friend? What about a total stranger? I could see Will’s dilemma clearly and I probably would have done the same as him.
“Besides, I’m sure Sam won’t ever want to see me again when he finds out what I did.” I could hear the self-reproach seep into his voice.
Water dripped down my back and a chill set in. “Sam would probably understand your predicament. I’m not saying he wouldn’t kick your ass from here to Canada, but I think he would understand.”
“Thanks for saying that.” Will nudged me with his shoulder, his gaze dipping down and catching my eye. “You know, I followed you that day when you ran away from Mrs. Higgins’ store. I saw what happened with Agent Marx.” His expression turned grim as he saw me flinch. “After I knew that he was dead, my plan was to come to Albany on my own and try to free my dad. But then I fell into your trap.” A shadow crossed his face. “I swear I wasn’t going to use you in any way to get my dad back. I totally intended not to get involved with you, but then…I got to know you. And I didn’t want to say goodbye.” He studied his hands unable to meet my wary gaze.
“Why didn’t you just tell me? I could have…”
“What, volunteered to take me to Albany and help me find my father? I don’t think so. Sam would have had me pulverized into fertilizer if he knew I had led the Industry right to your back door. And he would have been right to do it. I am sorry about everything, Lily. What I was going to do…what I did to you and your family…betraying your trust like that. It was stupid.”
The shadows of deep blue slate that had taken over his eyes had me captivated. I struggled to form words and before I could think, I was saying, “Apology accepted.” When his eyes went soft and the serious line of his mouth scooped up on both sides, my stomach launched into its primitive dance, making me squirm. Only by looking away was I able to add, “But don’t think I’m willing to give you another chance.”
“You’d be crazy to even consider it.” He grinned and then leaned back against the wall again, his head tipped toward the low ceiling that loomed overhead. “I do wish you would let me see you as far as Stanton. I hate to think of you traveling all that way by yourself on the road.”
“I can handle myself. Don’t worry about me.” I tried to sound more certain than I felt, but instead managed to sound like an overconfident idiot. We were both well aware of the dangers that could befall anyone traveling alone, especially a teenaged girl.
“I have no doubt,” he had the good manners to say. “But I promised your uncle I would get you home safely, and I mean to keep that promise.”
“Under the circumstances, I think Sam would prefer that you be as far away from me as possible,” I said carefully.
Will crooked his head toward me, a stubborn light sparkling behind his eyes, “I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you, Lily. I owe you that much, at least.”
The long look that passed between us was interrupted by the sound of footsteps climbing down the ladder into the cargo bay. Will’s arm came around me and pulled me close. Before I had a chance to react to the churn of emotions that his actions brought on, a long arm reached over the top of the crate and dragged the wooden box out from in front of us, sending my heart leaping into my throat.
“There you are!” A voice boomed.