Seabound (Seabound Chronicles Book 1) (6 page)

Chapter 7—The Runner

Neal worked quickly.
Esther had barely finished swabbing her cuts with precious iodine from the
ship’s infirmary when the horns rang out.

Whenever a
particularly bad storm gathered in their vicinity, Neal would warn the
community and send a full report to the bridge. He got most of his information
about the weather from other ships via radio. Sometimes he’d get a satellite
reading too, but those were sporadic at best. They’d been known to place a
storm a hundred nautical miles from its actual location. Rumor had it that was
how the old
Helsinki
went down. It
might have been carrying as many as five hundred survivors, but no one knew for
sure. Judith and Manny would weigh the weather data provided by Neal and the
risks of a major storm against their current power supply, then they’d make the
call: rider or runner.

Technically, the
council was supposed to decide whether to run from a storm or risk riding it
out, but over time they had grown complacent. Judith trusted the information provided
by Neal, and sometimes she’d have already ordered the old engine crew to move
before the rest of the council had roused from their bunks.

The crew spent
most of its time harvesting food. The
Catalina
had a speedboat that
could be taken out for fishing expeditions. They’d drive away from the big
vessel and bring in a catch that hadn’t been disturbed by the
Catalina
’s
deep draft. The speedboat was rigged with fishing poles fashioned from billiard
cues and spears made out of golf clubs. When it wasn’t in use, it was hoisted
onto the ship in the place of a long-lost lifeboat. Fishing was one of the many
vital skills those on the
Catalina
had had to learn in order to survive.
Isaiah Newton had proved particularly adept at this occupation, and he led most
of the expeditions.

But whenever the
Catalina
needed to move, the fishing
crew, led by Isaiah, and the repair crew, led by Reggie, would trickle down
from other parts of the ship. They’d open the engine control room to fire up
the systems, and a handful of extra men would join Esther and Cally in the
engine room to keep an eye on everything. The big marine diesel cylinders would
grumble into motion, cranking out enough power to operate the propulsion
system. The
Catalina
would run until
it was out of reach of the worst of the weather system, and then it would drift
again.

When Judith called
a runner based on Neal’s fabricated storm warning, it was no different. Isaiah
dropped a load of fresh-caught Pacific herring by the kitchens and opened the
heavy metal door to the engine control room. Reggie and his crew arrived in the
main engine room, laughing and pushing each other, wiping grease onto their
threadbare work trousers. Esther and Cally’s regular maintenance work paid off
when the engines sputtered to life with barely a cough. They felt the huge
propellers beneath the ship begin to turn. Together, unbeknownst to the rest of
the crew, they set the
Catalina
on a beeline toward the
Galaxy Flotilla
.

By the time Esther
got to the Atlantis Hall for dinner that night, everyone was consumed with talk
of the storm. Deliberate movements had become increasingly rare. There was
always hope that drifting in a new part of the sea would somehow be different
from their current monotony. Esther looked around, but her father wasn’t in the
hall. It was too bad. Herring was his favorite. She sat down alone and dug in
to her food with a bent fork. It was her first meal since the disaster with the
desal system. She forgot how hungry a near-death experience could make her.

Esther happened to
glance up from her chipped plate and caught Gracie Cordova looking at her. Gracie
put a hand to her cheek in the same spot where the large cut marred Esther’s
face and tipped her head sideways. Her thick hair hung across her face in an
annoyingly coy curtain. Esther glowered at her. In an effort to curry favor
with Judith back when she had started to gain power, Gracie had talked of
Simon’s arrogance to anyone who would listen. The ensuing gossip binge had
spread like hot oil, hurting Simon deeply. The last thing Esther needed was
Gracie speculating on what she’d been up to that day. She quickly shoveled the
rest of the fish into her mouth, wincing at the pain induced by chewing. But
she was too late. Gracie came over and plopped herself down in the chair
opposite Esther.

“What have you
been up to today, Esther?”

“Just doing my communal
duty. You?”

“I’ve been taking
inventory of Judith’s stores. Just to make sure nothing has gone missing.”

“Well?” Esther
fixed her eyes on Gracie’s murky brown ones.

“Everything’s
there,” she muttered, dropping her gaze.

“How nice for
Judith.”

“What happened to
your face?” Gracie’s direct look was back.

“It’s just a
scratch. Got it in the engine room. What happened to yours?”

Gracie ignored
her. “Strange, isn’t it? This running storm.”

“Why? We’ve had
storms before,” Esther said.

“It’s come awfully
soon after the last one, don’t you think?”

“Has it?”

“It’s only been
two days. That’s very unusual.”

Esther shifted in
her seat. “Hadn’t noticed,” she said. “Maybe the weather patterns are changing.
If you can even call them patterns.”

“I was on deck for
my sun quota earlier,” Gracie pressed, “and it sure doesn’t look like a big
storm is coming. I think something’s up.”

“Like what?”
Esther kept her tone neutral, concentrating hard on the crumbling slivers
beneath her fork.

“I don’t know.
It’s strange that Neal is sending out a storm call like this so soon. Don’t you
think?”

“As far as I
know,” Esther said, “Neal’s not the one who controls the weather.”

“It just doesn’t
feel like a storm’s coming, that’s all.”

Esther refused to
meet Gracie’s eyes, but in her peripheral vision she could see Gracie studying
her. She kept her voice casual. “Well, that’s some great detective work there.
You’ve convinced me.”

“We’ll see,”
Gracie said. “Sometimes there’s more going on on this ship than meets the eye.
You ought to know that by now.”

“What’s that
supposed to mean?” Esther said sharply.

“Oh, nothing. Poor
Esther. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

Esther didn’t want
to get into any of Gracie’s intrigues. She’d have to make sure Gracie didn’t
snoop around too much during the storm call. She’d rather Judith found out
about what she did than have Gracie Cordova telling the whole ship her version
of it. Judith, at least, was honest.

Esther forced
herself to down her generous ration of water, knowing they should already be conserving
their stores. She stood up from the table early and left the chatter of the
dining hall behind her. She walked down the quiet passageway toward their cabin
amidships, planning to catch a few hours of sleep and then go back down to the
desal room later that night to see what she could salvage while everyone was in
bed.

There was a
strange, muffled sound coming from the door. Her father must be doing push-ups,
as he sometimes did for a few weeks at a time before giving up and getting lost
in his books. She pushed open the door. A pale white backside greeted her, bobbing
up and down on her father’s bed. A mess of mud-brown curls whirled around,
revealing a pair of wide eyes in a face more shocked than a halibut on a hook.
She didn’t have time to process what she was seeing before the strangled yelps
of two voices—one high, one low—pushed her back out of the room.

Esther stood still
in the passageway, frozen with shock. Before she had time to move, Mrs. Noah
stumbled from the cabin, wrapped only in her father’s blanket, and darted to
her own room. The slam of the door echoed through the hall.

After a moment,
her father’s voice called softly from the room. “Esther?”

She turned and
raced back up the passageway, not stopping until she’d pounded down the grand
staircase. She pushed blindly through the double doors in front of her and
ended up in the old theater. It was dark and empty. She sat heavily in one of
the faded velvet seats.

Old curtains
formed an eerie backdrop to the room. An empty chandelier shaped like an
octopus hung from the ceiling. The private boxes, lined with peeling gilt,
gaped like gills in the walls. Seats had been removed in patches for use
elsewhere on the ship. The theater had always been garish, but it’s derelict
state made it all the more grotesque. Keeping it maintained had not been a
priority. But it was quiet and empty, and far away from her father’s room.

Esther looked at
the shadows cutting shapes into the old theater seats and thought about her
mother. She’d had a strong nose and deep brown eyes. Esther used to love
sitting on her lap and playing with the clattering collection of bracelets her
mother wore on her wrists. Her sister, Naomi, reading in an armchair nearby,
would tell her to stop making noise, but her mother would smile and wrap her in
a tight hug that smelled like apples. Esther had once found a nearly empty
bottle of apple blossom perfume in a waterlogged suitcase. She’d held on to it,
sniffing it whenever she wanted to summon her mother’s face. But the smell of salt
and fish had overwhelmed it long ago.

For years she
secretly hoped that her mother and sister had survived the descent of the ash
cloud. She imagined that they’d taken a spontaneous trip to Mexico instead of
going to the dentist that morning. She liked to think of them driving through
the desert, far from the treacherous shoreline, eventually making their way to
Brazil to live in the rainforest. Once, she’d shared her theory with Simon.
He’d looked at her sadly and shaken his head. Others on board, like Penelope
Newton, held out hope for their loved ones, but Simon had forced Esther to
admit early on that they were gone forever.

The door behind
her creaked open. A ray of light changed the shapes on the seats like a gear
shifting a notch. Esther knew it was her father by the sound of his uneven
footsteps, the result of a limp acquired long ago. He sat in the row of seats
behind her, the chair squeaking softly. For a long time, neither of them spoke.

“I’m lonely,
Esther,” he said softly. She closed her eyes. “And so is Penelope.”

Esther searched
through the questions she wanted to ask, not at all sure she wanted to know the
answers. Finally, she settled on the one burning thought in her mind: “Why
her?”

“Esther . . .”

“She’s so
different from Mom. You don’t even respect her.”

“You’re the one
who doesn’t respect her, Esther. I understand a little bit of what she’s trying
to do for her family by being . . . the way she is.”

“How long has this
been going on?”

“A while.”

“What about her
husband? She’s always talking about how the Lord has saved him and they’ll be
reunited on the Last Day and all that.” Esther couldn’t keep the scorn from her
voice. She didn’t even try.

“Penelope knows
he’s gone. She’s kept up this story, this myth, for so long for her children
that she can’t let it go.”

“Doesn’t it bother
you, though?” Esther said. “Enough that it’s not worth the physical comfort or
whatever you’re getting out of this?” She just stopped herself from kicking the
back of the seat in front of her like a child.

Simon was silent
again. She glanced back at him. His face looked old and very sad. “Couldn’t you
have held out for someone who was at least half as good as Mom?” Esther said.
“We meet new people sometimes. Maybe on the
Amsterdam
.”

“Esther, I’m not
looking for a new soul mate. That part of my life is over. You’ll come to
understand someday that it’s worth finding comfort with someone who understands
your sadness. You won’t always scorn the . . . physical need to be with
someone.”

“I think I’d
rather be lonely.”

“You’re still
young, Esther. I’m proud of you for working so hard to keep things running
smoothly on the ship. You’re so smart and capable; sometimes I forget how young
you are.” He paused. “You know Neal . . .”

“Dad, don’t.”

“I’m just saying
that Neal is a good young man. He’s your friend, and he will always be there
for you. Someday you may realize that it’s worth accepting the company and
partnership of another human being just to help you get through the dark nights
at sea.”

The horn rumbled
through the ship. Esther and Simon waited, allowing the vibrations to fade
away. A second horn sounded. Then a third. Then a fourth. They looked at each
other. That meant everyone was supposed to muster on the decks. It was a rare
call. They stood at the same time, and Simon gripped Esther’s shoulder. “Be
kind to her, Esther. Please.”

Chapter 8—
Orchid

Esther and Simon rushed
to
the foredeck. Nearly half the ship had already gathered there or on the upper
decks. More people crowded onto the balconies of the forward cabins, inviting
themselves in to get a better view. No one bothered to lock doors anyway. The
rest filed out from the lower cabins and workstations and jostled for position
along the portside lido deck.

The foredeck was
bare. They’d bolted benches and tables to the decks in the early days, but
those were long gone, ripped away by the violence of the sea. With the entire
population flooding onto the decks from every nook and cranny, the
Catalina
looked like it was sprouting
anemones. Esther and her father pushed through the crowd. A crisp breeze
greeted them, and twilight had turned the sky to a soft lavender color. Esther
had to admit it didn’t look like a storm was coming.

They found Neal on
their way to the railing. It was always strange to see him outside of his
tower.

“What’s going on?”
Esther asked.

Neal frowned.
“It’s not good.”

When the quadruple
horns rang out, Esther had worried someone had discovered the catastrophe in
the bowling alley. But something in Neal’s face told her this had nothing to do
with that—or with their plan. She reached the front row of the crowd and
looked to the sea.

Another cruise
ship floated alongside them. It loomed above their heads, blocking out the sky.
Far bigger than the
Catalina
, the ship probably had a capacity close to
three thousand. Like the
Catalina
, this ship had undergone modifications.
Entire decks had been removed, like layers on a cake. She must have been too
top-heavy for the biggest storms. The empty upper decks gaped like the rib cage
of a skeleton. For a moment, Esther thought they’d reached the
Galaxy
Flotilla
ahead of schedule, but this ship, grim in the twilight, did not
look like a thriving community. Nothing moved on its decks.

A spotlight from
the
Catalina
illuminated the name on the hull written in swirling, faded
letters:
Orchid
. Hanging above the name was a banner, clearly handmade
from a salvaged bit of sailcloth. In red paint, it read, “Disease. Stay Away.”

The message
rippled through the crowd and made its way inside to the people who hadn’t been
able to fit on the decks. Disease. A humming silence descended on the
Catalina
.
The
Orchid
simply floated: no engines, no lights, no life.

“Dear God,” Simon
whispered.

“I saw them coming
on radar,” Neal said. “Thought it might have been a glitch because I got
complete radio silence.”

“Ever talked to
them before?” Esther asked.

“No. We’re already
outside of our normal drift range, what with the running storm and all.” He
glanced at Simon.

“I remember this
ship,” said a deep voice behind them.

Esther jumped.
Reggie had pushed through the crowd to join them. He put his rough hands on the
railing. A patch of grease glinted on his dark skin.

“We’ve met them?”
she asked.

“No, from before.
When I was looking for work on the ships, one of my buddies landed a job on the
Orchid
. She docks in Boston, on the East Coast.”

“How’d they get
here?” The
Catalina
had never left the Pacific Ocean. It was plenty big
enough for their needs.

“Tierra del Fuego,
I expect,” Reggie answered. “This ship is a long way from home.”

“Do you think
anyone’s still around over there?”

“Seems awfully
quiet.” The four of them stared up at the big ship.

“What’ll we do
about her?” Esther asked.

An idea came to
her. The
Orchid
must have a good desalination system, maybe even one
that used the same type of filters they did. If the ship was empty, or if only
a fraction of the inhabitants had survived, they might be able to take some of
their materials to repair the
Catalina
’s
system. It was a risk to dock with the
Galaxy
Flotilla
with so many unknown
ships and people
, but the
Orchid
. . .

Judith’s voice
crackled through the loudspeakers. “Attention please, everyone.” She had
climbed up to the bridge wing, a thin exposed balcony along the side of the
bridge. She had a death grip on the mic for the loudspeaker and a sour look on
her face. Judith hated interacting with other ships on the rare occasions they
encountered them. She ordered the navigation team to steer clear of strangers
whenever possible. “We have a situation on our hands. We have been unable to
make radio contact with anyone aboard the
Orchid
. As you can see, it is
unclear whether anyone has survived. We must be careful about how we engage the
Orchid
if we choose to offer help.”

“Let’s get away
from it!” someone yelled.

A few people
murmured their agreement.

The elder Mrs.
Cordova stood in a prime spot on an upper deck, not too far from Judith. “We
don’t know what kind of disease we’re dealing with,” she shouted. “We can’t
expose the children.” She had one of her grandchildren clutched to her body.
Mrs. Cordova always made her opinions known—and she held a lot of
influence.

“These are valid
concerns,” Judith said.

More voices chimed
in. “There might be supplies. They don’t need them anymore.”

“There could still
be people alive over there!”

“It’s not worth
the risk.”

The crowd
grumbled. The last vestiges of daylight were fading. The lights from the
Catalina
danced off the battered white hull of the
Orchid
. It glowed, ghostlike.

“We should
investigate,” Esther said to her companions. “They’re right about the
supplies.”

“We should be
helping the survivors,” Simon said.

“There probably
are none,” said Neal. “Otherwise, they would have figured out how to radio for
help. We should leave it alone.”

Esther stomped on
Neal’s foot. “I just mean that we shouldn’t leave it without knowing,” she
said. “A ship that size is bound to be hiding something, whether it’s survivors
or
fuel
that could keep us going for another few years.”

A look of
understanding lit Neal’s face. “I think Esther’s right. It would be foolish to
sail on without investigating.”

“It wouldn’t take
long to send the lifeboat over,” Reggie said.

“How would we get
up to the deck if there really are no survivors? I think we need to extend some
sort of gangway,” Esther said. “You know that big piece of steel Manny dragged
up during the storm? It wouldn’t take long to bolt a few pieces like that
together and . . .” Esther and Reggie conferred over the options. But the crowd
was growing restless.

“We should sink
it!” Mrs. Cordova shouted over the din. “That way the disease won’t spread to
anyone else.”

She was gathering
support on her deck.

“But there could
be sick people aboard who need our help!” Bernadette called from a balcony.

More voices chimed
in. “They told us to stay away!”

“We have to worry
about ourselves.”

Mrs. Cordova
seemed to swell as she shouted, “We can’t let whatever killed those people get
off that ship. Send it to the bottom of the sea!”

Judith raised a
hand for silence. Esther had to admit that she had a commanding presence. She
made people listen.

“This is why I’ve
called everyone up. For the sake of the community, this is a decision that has
to be made together. I propose that we put it to a council vote.”

Esther thrust her
hand into the air. Judith didn’t look happy to be interrupted, but she made a
point of hearing people out when others were watching.

“I think we should
send a crew over to find out what’s going on,” Esther said. “That way the
council can make an informed decision. Reggie and the guys can put together a
ramp so we can get across.”

A few people in
the crowd murmured their agreement.

“Don’t you know
anything about disease?” Mrs. Cordova shrieked. “If one person goes over there,
they’ll bring it back with them. We might as well invite the ghosts in now.”

People around her
nodded. The crowd seemed to surge closer, buoying her up with their support.

“She’s right!”

“Yeah, let’s stay
away. That’s what the sign says anyway.”

“If they wanted
help, they’d ask for it!”

“We can’t just
leave it!” Esther shouted. She climbed up on the railing so she could see above
the throng. “I volunteer for the salvage team.”

The rumble of
voices increased in volume. The people on the inner lido deck shouted that they
couldn’t hear. They pushed forward, oozing out of the doorways, putting extra
weight on the balconies.

“What does the
sign say?”

“Do they have
food?”

“What’s going on?”

“It
seems—quiet, please—it seems we have no choice but to meet before
anyone makes a further move,” Judith announced. “The council will go over our
options and come to a consensus. If a harmonious solution is not obvious, we’ll
put it to a silent vote. The choices are: leave the
Orchid
to float
where it will; send a small party to investigate and salvage whatever materials
we can find; or sink the ship to ensure that the disease won’t spread to any
other communities.” She turned to where Manny was waiting at the door to the
bridge.

“This shouldn’t be
up to a committee,” Esther shouted, earning a glare from Judith. She couldn’t
let this go to the council, not this time. They’d do whatever Judith told them
to. “It’s getting harder to pull salvage. Things are going to fall apart on
this ship eventually. You know it, or you wouldn’t be hoarding so much of it in
the lounge, Judith. Everybody, we can’t let that ship go. Think of what’s being
wasted over there.”

Simon put a hand
on her arm. “Esther, the risks . . .”

But there was a
rumble of approval through the assembly. They shouted at Judith to let them
search the ship. She said something about the council, but the people drowned
her out. The council always did Judith’s bidding anyway, and it seemed the
people didn’t want to wait.

Reggie gestured to
one of the reinforced panels over a bay of windows. “We can pull this down to
use as a bridge.” His deep voice carried above the crowd.

The crew started
pulling tools from their belts and back pockets, moving toward the panel.
Esther breathed. They were going to be okay.

Suddenly, the wind
shifted. It had been pushing the warning banner back against the
Orchid
.
Now it swirled across the deck of the silent ship and swept toward the crowd on
the
Catalina
. The distinct smell of decaying flesh came with it. The
crowd gasped collectively as the stench enveloped them. For a moment, everyone
was silent. Then the din began.

“Let’s get out of
here!” someone yelled.

“Sink it! Sink it,
I say!”

“Rust and salt!
They’re all dead.”

“We’re going to
die!”

“We need to get
away now!”

“Sink the fucking
ship!”

“Oh Judith, what
will you do?” the last comment came as a whisper from Simon.

Judith tried to
calm the assembly. The shouts to sink the
Orchid
gained momentum.

Esther looked up
at the
Orchid
, holding her nose
against the stench. The ghostly hull drifted closer in the putrid wind.
No
, she thought as the crowd turned
against her faster than a sneaker wave.
This
is our chance.

“All right
everyone. Quiet!” Judith called. “Is the consensus to sink the
Orchid
and leave the salvage on the bottom of the sea?”

“Yes!” the people
shouted.

Judith didn’t even
offer a second choice. “Okay, we’ve reached a decision. Everyone return to your
duties. The explosives specialists will address the situation. Thank you for
your consensus.”

Esther didn’t miss
the triumphant look Judith shot down at her. She stepped off the railing,
keeping a viselike grip on the cold metal.

No one listened to
Judith’s instructions to return to their duties. They stayed on deck and
watched the preparations. The explosives had come from a capsized navy vessel
years ago, but it had been a long time since they’d been used. No one wanted to
miss the gruesome spectacle.

Esther watched the
team loading into the speedboat. The “specialists” were a pair of very old navy
veterans who’d been reliving their preretirement days at sea on a
Catalina
cruise. They were nearly
senile, but they were the only ones who knew how to use explosives.

There had to be
some way Esther could go along, to have one quick look through the ship. She
nearly blurted out her secret about the desal system. They needed to know the
truth. She should own up to her mistake. She wavered. But no. She couldn’t
admit what a fool she’d been, not to Judith, not with her father standing right
there.