The Pilgrims of Rayne (19 page)

“I can't break the glass,” Dodger screamed.

Courtney barely knew Dodger was even there. She was focused on Andy. On Saint Dane.

“What did I do?” she asked.

“Isn't that obvious?” Mitchell laughed. “Sorry you nearly died in Vermont but, hey, if that's what it took, so be it. Nice to see you're not crippled anymore.”

Mitchell laughed and jammed past two drivers who were going too slowly for him. They blasted their horns. Mitchell giggled and waved at them.

“What are you talking about?” Courtney demanded.

“Are you stupid or do you just look it?” Mitchell asked. “We came to your rescue. Dimond and me. It was a real bonding experience. After I helped save your life, I looked like a real hero to him. After that, he trusted me, and it was all thanks to you.”

Mitchell bashed into the traffic divider, blowing out the right front wheel. The car lurched to the right, but Mitchell kept in control and charged on.

“That's why you ran me off the road in Massachusetts?” Courtney asked. “So you and Mark could come to my rescue?”

Mitchell turned all the way around, taking his eyes off the road. He looked right at Courtney and grinned. “Face it, Chetwynde. You delivered Mark Dimond. Now that I've got him, I've got Halla.”

“No!” Courtney lost it. She screamed and banged on the glass. Her fists were only inches from Andy Mitchell. From Saint Dane. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to bash his smug face. She wanted him to die.

“Look out!” Dodger shouted.

The cab flew down an exit ramp and off the elevated highway. Andy Mitchell casually looked forward and took the wheel, steering clear of a cement barrier.

“Whoa, that would have hurt,” he said calmly.

The flat tire was shredded but the car charged on. Sparks
flew from the metal rim that was now the fourth wheel. They were at the bottom of Manhattan, where the river widened out to become a harbor. Long piers jutted out into the water. Traffic picked up, but Andy Mitchell didn't slow down.

“Where is he?” Courtney screamed, banging on the glass. “Tell me where he is!”

Mitchell turned the wheel one last time. He flew off the road, cut off a car, and bounced over the sidewalk. They were headed for one of the piers that stretched into the river. People strolled along casually, enjoying the day and admiring the view. Not for long. At the sound of the oncoming cab, they dove out of the way to avoid being mashed. The cab charged forward, blasting onto the wide pier.

“Hey! Dead end!” Dodger shouted.

“Is it?” Mitchell asked innocently. “Oops.”

Courtney didn't care. She was beyond caring.

“Go home, Chetwynde,” Mitchell said calmly. “See your parents. Cuddle up with your mechanical cat. You have a couple of older brothers, don't you? Spend some time with them. The battle is over. There's nothing left for anybody to do but sit back and watch me fly.”

Courtney became calm. It didn't matter that they were hurtling toward the end of the pier. She sat back in the seat and folded her arms.

“You're wrong,” she said calmly. “It's not close to being over. Bobby won't let that happen, and neither will I.”

Andy Mitchell whipped around to look into the backseat. Only he wasn't Andy Mitchell anymore. His face had transformed into that of Saint Dane. His blue-white eyes flashed. The bloodred veins in his bald head flared.

“Then you'll just have to die!” he hissed.

Dodger screamed.

The car crashed through a wooden barrier at the end of the pier and sailed into the air. Saint Dane melted into black smoke and blew out the window. Courtney and Dodger were alone as the cab sailed down and hit the water with a bone-jarring shudder.

Cars didn't come equipped with seat belts in 1937.

When the cab hit the water, Courtney and Dodger were thrown forward. They hit the glass partition separating the seats and bounced back like rag dolls being tumbled in a clothes dryer. Courtney hit her head, hard. She was knocked senseless.

“Courtney!” Dodger yelled. “Courtney, you all right?”

Courtney didn't hear him. She was barely conscious.

“We're going down!” Dodger yelled.

The car floated on its belly for only a few seconds. The nose tipped down quickly. That's where the weight was. The engine acted like an anchor, pulling the vehicle under. Water poured in the open front windows. The heavier the front became, the steeper the angle became. Soon the car was floating near vertical, with the tail up in the air.

“Courtney!” Dodger yelled. He shook her. Courtney was totally disoriented.

“What happened?” she asked dreamily.

“We're gonna drown!” Dodger screamed.

The back of the front seat was now the floor. Courtney and
Dodger sat on the glass partition as water rose up around them.

“Where's Saint Dane?” Courtney asked.

“Gone!” Dodger shouted. “He turned into smoke and flew out the window! I swear!”

“I believe you,” Courtney said, dazed.

The water was up to their waists and bubbling higher. In seconds the car would be submerged and on its way to the bottom.

“Move!” Dodger ordered Courtney.

He pushed her out of the way and slid toward one of the back doors. He pushed up off his bottom with his hands and kicked at the window, desperate to smash it out. The higher the water got, the tougher it was to get enough leverage to put force into his kicks.

“Help me!” he shouted at Courtney.

Courtney rolled over. Her head went underwater. She sputtered, coughed, and sat back up. The cold shock cleared her head.

“What's going on?” she shouted.

“We're sinking,” Dodger shouted. “We've got to kick out the window or we're done.”

He gave another kick, and another, but it was tough getting power because of the rising water. Courtney scrambled next to Dodger, put her arms down and started to kick the window on her own. The window didn't budge.

“Together!” Dodger commanded.

They sat next to each other, up on their arms, their bellies pointed to the sky. The water was nearly at their shoulders.

“Ready?” Dodger called out. “One, two, three, kick!”

They both kicked the window with their heels, but not at the exact same time.

“Again!” Dodger ordered. “One, two, three, kick!”

They both pounded the window again, hitting it together this time. It didn't budge.

“We can't get enough force!” Dodger yelled.

“Don't stop!” Courtney ordered.

She shifted position, moving her hands so she was closer to the window, when something slipped, making her lose balance.

“Whoa!” Courtney exclaimed as her face slid under the water.

Dodger quickly pulled her back up.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Something moved down there,” Courtney exclaimed. “I had my weight on my hands and it made something slide.”

Dodger looked down into the water, then ducked below the surface. A second later he came up, sputtering.

“The glass partition!” he exclaimed. “It's not locked anymore. I can slide it open!”

As he spoke, Dodger pushed with his feet to slide open the glass partition that separated the backseat from the front seat. The water was now tickling their chins.

Courtney gasped, “Is the opening big enough to go through?”

“I think.”

“If we can get down there, maybe the front doors are unlocked.”

“What if they're not?” Dodger asked.

“Dumb question.”

“Yeah, dumb question,” Dodger echoed.

The water was rising faster. Soon their heads would be bobbing against the rear window.

“It's good the doors are underwater,” Courtney added hopefully. “It means the water pressure is equal, and the doors should open.”

“If they're unlocked.”

“Yeah, if they're unlocked.”

They looked at each other. Neither budged. Courtney saw the fear in Dodger's eyes. “If we're going, we gotta go now,” she said. “The car is sinking like a brick.”

“I'll go,” Dodger said. “Give me time to get the door open.”

“Dodger?”

“Yeah?”

“I trust you now.”

Dodger smiled. “I guess I better not mess up.” He took a deep breath and ducked below the surface. Courtney watched as he went straight down through the opening in the partition, feet first. He pushed himself all the way down until his head was below the glass, then turned toward the front passenger door. He reached for the handle, twisted it, and pushed against the door. It didn't move. He put his foot against the steering wheel and leaned into the door. It wouldn't budge.

“Come back up!” Courtney shouted down through the water.

He didn't. He pushed away from the passenger door and went to the driver's door. He grasped the handle with one hand and the steering wheel with the other.

Courtney took a breath to say something, and got a mouthful of water. Her head bumped the glass of the rear window. She was underwater. The car was nearly full and beginning its final plummet to the bottom. She had no choice but to follow Dodger down into the front seat. She found the opening in the partition with her feet, hooked her toes under the glass, bent her knees, and pulled herself down. She grabbed the opening with her hands and pulled herself down the rest of the way. The water was dark and green…and getting darker. They were headed for the bottom. Still, she could see the blur of Dodger. With her back to the passenger door, she watched the small bellhop make one last attempt to save them. He twisted the door handle and put his shoulder against the door. Courtney leaned into Dodger, adding
whatever force she had. She anchored her feet against the passenger door for leverage and pushed.

The door moved. Dodger forced it open just enough that he could slide out of the car into open water. Quickly he turned back for Courtney. She was already after him. She pushed off the passenger door and swam, head first, out of the driver's door. They were free, but not safe. Neither knew how deep they had been pulled by the car. Courtney gave a quick glance down to see the blurry yellow cab sinking quickly beneath them. She stared at the ghostly image, mesmerized as it slid into the murky green depths. The idea that they might have been in that car froze her.

She felt a strong hand grab her arm. It brought her back to reality. They had to get to the surface. Courtney was already feeling the strain of having held her breath for too long. They were out of the death car, but if they couldn't hold their breath long enough to get to the surface, it wouldn't matter. They'd be just as dead. Dodger tugged, pulling her up. Courtney kicked, and the two rocketed for the surface. With nothing around them for perspective there was no way to know how deep they were. All Courtney could do was focus on the light above and hope they'd hit it before running out of air. She kicked and kicked. Her lungs ached. She wanted to exhale, but feared losing the last remaining bit of air in her lungs.

Dodger kicked just as furiously. They didn't look at each other. There was no need. They knew where they had to go. Up. Up was air. Down was death. Courtney wanted to scream. She wanted to breathe. She felt she could last a little longer, if only she knew how many more seconds she'd have to hold out for. Two? Five? Twenty? She knew if it were twenty, she'd be dead.

It wasn't. They both broke the surface, gasping for air. Courtney looked for Dodger. He bobbed next to her, looking just as scared as he had when they were trapped in the sinking car.
The two laughed. They couldn't help themselves. It seemed like the thing to do. Total relief will do that.

“Can you make it to the pier?” Dodger asked.

Courtney nodded. Now that she could breathe, she was fine. She didn't even feel the bump on her head. They weren't far from the pier. It only took a minute to swim to the base of the huge wooden pilings and a metal ladder that reached into the water. Courtney got there first. She grabbed the ladder and held tight. Dodger joined her a second later. The two of them clung to the ladder to catch their breath.

“Saint Dane,” Dodger gasped.

“What about him?”

“You said you thought I might be Saint Dane.”

“I don't think that anymore. He can do a lot of things, but he can't be two people at once.”

“So now that we're square, maybe you could tell me what's really goin' on?”

Courtney chuckled. “Yeah, you earned it. But you're not going to like what you hear.”

“I don't see how it can get any worse than this,” Dodger said.

“This?” Courtney scoffed. “This was nothing.”

Dodger looked sick.

Courtney pulled herself up on the ladder and made the climb to the top of the pier. Dodger followed close behind. It was low tide, so the climb was a long one. Neither looked down as they made their way up to safety.

When Courtney got to the top, she saw that a group of people had already gathered to see what was going on. More came running along the pier from the street. They peppered her with questions. “Are you okay?” “What happened?” “Do you need an ambulance?” “Did everyone get out?”

Courtney ignored them. It's not that she was being rude.
Something else had gotten her attention. The people on the pier might as well have been invisible, because the sight before Courtney was too incredible, too breathtaking for her to focus on anything else. Rising high above her, on the far side of the pier, was a vast black wall. The sheer size was enough to make her knees buckle. It stretched nearly the entire length of the pier and reached high into the blue New York sky. At first she didn't register what it could be. A building? Buildings weren't black. She gazed up at the monstrous sight, feeling like an ant next to a house.

Reality intruded when Dodger stepped up next to her. “She's something, ain't she? Fast, too.”

Along the top of this impossible black wall was a wide, white band. Courtney's eyes followed this band the length of the wall until she saw two words. Two simple black words against white. The letters had to be three feet high, big enough to be seen clearly from the buildings of Manhattan. Seeing the words made Courtney gasp. Those two words hit her harder than the breathtaking image of the black wall itself. It was like seeing history come to life. It was like seeing the future come to life. Seeing those words told her exactly what she needed to do. They told her the wall wasn't a wall. It was the hull of a ship. A huge ship. An impossibly huge ship. The words were near its bow, proudly displaying her name for the world to see.

“Queen Mary,”
Dodger said in awe. “This is the closest I'll ever get to sailing on her.”

“Don't be so sure about that,” Courtney said.

Dodger gave her a confused look. Courtney's response was to grab his hand and run for shore. The two quickly escaped from the pier before the police showed up and started asking questions they wouldn't have answers for. Or answers they wanted to give. They headed back to the hotel. On the subway. Neither had
the stomach for getting into another cab. They traveled silently, both lost in thought. Courtney thought long and hard about what she was going to tell Dodger. She no longer thought he was Saint Dane. If there was anything good that came out of their cab ride from hell, it was that she now knew for sure that he wasn't Saint Dane. She couldn't ask him to ignore reality any longer. That wouldn't be fair. No, she figured, Dodger was going to want the truth. The question was, how much of it should she reveal? She didn't want to scare him off, but he needed to know what he had gotten himself into. His allegiance to Gunny aside, he nearly died in that cab. He deserved to know why.

By the time they got back to the hotel, their clothes were dry. Aside from a few scratches and a nasty bruise on Courtney's forehead, they weren't much the worse for wear. Both had lost their hats, but hats were replaceable. The two were walking through the garden toward the front door of the hotel when Courtney stopped Dodger.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“For helping me even though you didn't have to.”

“But Gunny asked—”

“Yeah, I know,” Courtney interrupted. “But thanks just the same.”

“You're welcome,” Dodger said sincerely.

“I've decided to tell you the truth. All of it.”

“You don't have to,” Dodger said quickly.

“But I want to,” Courtney countered. “You deserve that.”

“Yeah, maybe, but still, you don't have to.”

“I don't get it,” Courtney said with a frown. “Before you were all about wanting to know what was going on. Now you don't care? Why's that? Are you giving up on me?”

“Who said anything about giving up? All I said was you didn't have to tell me.”

“Uh…confused.”

“I'll show you something, “Dodger said with a sly smile.

He led Courtney into the hotel and down the stairs toward Gunny's apartment. But they didn't go to Gunny's. Dodger brought her to the hotel vault, where a gray-haired guy in a bellhop suit sat behind a desk, reading the newspaper.

“Hey, Mike, working hard?” Dodger asked.

“Hardly working,” Mike answered grumpily without taking his eye off the paper.

“I need that strongbox you're holding for me,” Dodger said.

Mike looked up at him, over his half-glasses. “You got some identification?”

“Yeah,” Dodger said. He held up his right hand with his fingers spread. “I got five friends to vouch for me. One, two, three, four, five.” With each number he curled a finger, until he ended up with a fist…and gave Mike a sharp but friendly punch in the arm.