Archipelago N.Y.: Flynn (19 page)

Flynn couldn’t
remember the last time he had gone on a solo dive, without the aid of a bell
and a Crew Mate… It might have been in the early years, before he had become Ann
Baxter’s student. Freediving was all about ease of movement, relaxation and the
conserving of energy. It was both exhilarating and calming to be underwater
without any support. And Flynn needed to be by himself… He wanted peace and
quiet, and with every passing second, this solitary experience was working its
magic on him. It helped clear his head, pushing all thoughts away, making him
concentrate on the steps he needed to take in order to reach the ocean bed.

The first step had
been Flynn’s entry in the water… He had started by floating on the surface,
slowing his heart rate to around fifty beats per minute, breathing deep and
taking his time. With the last complete breath, he had jackknifed, letting his
feet rise up so that their weight could thrust his streamlined body downward. And
then, he had begun a series of low frequency, stiff-legged kicks, staying as
relaxed as possible… The trick was not to exert yourself, or as Ann Baxter liked
to say, ‘trying to sleep your way down to the bottom’. Twenty seconds into the
dive, and gliding along nicely, Flynn had already reached a depth of fifty feet.
Soon he would have to equalize the water pressure in his ears, gain more
momentum in reaching his final destination.

He switched on his
flashlight as he approached the submerged city streets beneath him. The place
looked undisturbed, and Flynn was sure no one had scavenged it yet. He was
swimming in uncharted territory, but inevitably, everything about the site had a
familiar feel to it…The piles of mangled vehicles, the twisted poles and cables
which had been covered in thick layers of barnacles, seaweed and silt… It was
no different from what Flynn had encountered on previous dives. The fact that
the ocean bed around the Archipelago was a grave-yard never bothered him much.
It didn’t feel sinister or scary to Flynn… Most people would have hated it, but
not him... Flynn had always loved this eerie underworld, because it was a
direct link to a long forgotten past. Ironically, it had also become a source
of sustenance for those who lived in the present.

But now, as he
coasted along the rooftops of a submerged row of houses, Flynn was struck by an
overwhelming feeling of sadness… Suddenly, there was something strange and
unpleasant about the dive. For the first time in his life, he felt like an
intruder, disturbing the final resting place of so many lost souls. The place
was full of ghosts, Flynn thought as he swam past the top floor of a brick
building… And then, lodged between the narrow bars of one of its windows, Flynn
saw the well-preserved remains of a child’s toy. He felt his heart stop. He
used to have a toy like that. It was a little stuffed animal his father had
given him when he was four years old… In a flash, the thought of Alan Perry
made Flynn come to his senses. What was he doing down here? Running away from
his problems wasn’t going to solve anything! Grabbing hold of one of the bars, Flynn
managed to free the toy and tuck it safely in his diving harness. Flynn knew he
had to go back and see his father… He had to apologize for what he had said and
ask the man for his forgiveness. Kicking hard with his feet, Flynn shot up
toward the surface.

Alan Perry had
never entered the Van Zandt building before. He was following his guide as they
made their way through a labyrinth of long corridors. He stared at the marble
columns, the vaulted ceilings and polished wooden floors. There were even real
paintings hanging on the walls! They were nothing like the pages torn from old
magazines, or the tatty posters and billboards people would decorate their
living spaces with… Real art didn’t exist anymore. At least not on the Lower
Side… No one had the resources or the time to create art in that way…let alone
to put it in a frame!

Walking in a daze,
Flynn’s father felt like a child in a magical world that was unfolding slowly
before his eyes. But he would be allowed only a brief glimpse of this world…
only a week at the end of his life. Then the memories of what he had seen would
disappear together with him and everybody on the List. His chest tightened.
This week of celebration in the Van Zandt building was all a cruel tease… a
perverse game the Government would play with his mind, because they knew that
no one would object to it! Suddenly, Alan Perry felt sickened by everything he
had been admiring.

“Mr. Perry!” A
voice disturbed his thoughts. The guide now stood in front of a heavy wooden
door. “This is your Departure Suite, sir.”

The door slid open
silently, revealing a long dark hallway.

“This will be your
residence for the rest of the week. Breakfast, lunch and dinner are served in
our gala room. You'll find a full list of instructions on your bed.” The guide
paused, avoiding any eye-contact with Alan Perry. “Can you read, sir? We
provide help for those who can't.”

“I can read,” said
Alan Perry and stepped inside the suite.

“Have a nice stay!”
his guide mumbled as he closed the door firmly after him.

Flynn’s father
heard it lock promptly from the outside, and then listened as the footsteps of
the guide died away quickly down the corridor. He stood for a moment in the dusky
hallway, his head resting against the nearest wall. Taking a deep breath to
steady himself, he suddenly became aware of how different the air smelled. A
sweet scent was drifting all around him, making him dizzy and aroused at the
same time. His hand found the light switch and flicked it on. Instantly, the
suite was bathed in bright light. “Well...” he said, now speaking to himself, “let's
explore our new home, shall we?”

The hallway led
Alan Perry into a spacious living room and to the source of the wonderful,
heady fragrance. There were half a dozen vases placed around the room and all
of them were full of freshly cut flowers. Hypnotized, he walked slowly toward one
of them. Flynn’s father reached out and touched the petals to see if they were
real. Of course, they were! He had spent all his life thinking that flowers
were a thing of the past…that they only existed in the memories of ancients and
in pictures. Now, he realized they were still around, most probably grown in
one of the greenhouses, exclusively for the pleasure of the Upper Side
residents…The Government was wasting drinking water on flowers, while the Lower
Side had to ration it, Alan Perry thought with disgust.

His eyes shifted
to the huge glass window with a perfect view of the city below. No one had real
glass on the Lower Side! Alan Perry dropped his bag on the leather sofa and
walked over to the window. He rapped his knuckles on the glass then pressed his
face against the window. Flynn was somewhere out there... Alan Perry clenched
his fists, angry at himself. Why had he spoiled Flynn’s happiness with his
harsh words? The boy would remember him by them… remember the bitterness of a
failed man… A single tear rolled down Alan Perry's cheek, then disappeared into
the coarse stubble of his trembling chin.

“Hey! Uncle Dale!”

“Well, look who’s
here!” shouted Dale Baker from his lookout perch. The man lowered his
binoculars, and his pale watery eyes hovered over Flynn. “You’re a foot taller
since I last saw you!”

Flynn had known
Dale for as long as he could remember…ever since he was a little boy, growing
up in his father’s Watch Tower. Dale had been Alan Perry’s apprentice and then
his Watch Tower buddy. “He’s the third member of our family,” Flynn’s father
would say, and so the man was “Uncle” Dale to Flynn. Dale Baker was considered a
kind of an oddity on the Lower Side. He was never “paired off,” and many
suspected it was because he was born with a hare’s lip and lopsided eyes. Any
deformity, especially such a visible one like Dale’s, meant never having a
family of your own…Robbed of the chance to be a father, Dale had grown very
fond of Flynn, playing with the little boy for hours at the “Top of the World”,
a name they used for their Watch Tower… Their games had stopped when Flynn had
discovered the Free Scavengers, and his visits to the Tower became less and
less frequent. At some point, Flynn had stopped coming altogether.

But everything
looked the same, Flynn thought as he stepped inside the circular observation
deck. It was built at the highest point on the Lower Side, giving the Watchmen
a 360-degree view over the entire Archipelago. The Watchmen had four big
telescoping lenses trained on the horizon, far beyond the Junk Nets. It was
their job to be constantly on the lookout for anything, dead or alive...
anything that could possibly carry the Flood Virus into the city’s waters.
Flynn saw the old rusty cage in the corner, covered in bird droppings. Inside
were a couple of carrier pigeons, cooing softly, waiting to be dispatched with a
warning message should the need arise. Yes, everything looked the same, except
his father wasn’t there...

Dale noticed
Flynn’s surprise and took a deep breath. There was now a concerned look on the
man’s face. “Alan didn’t show up for work this morning, Flynn,” he spoke softly.
“I thought, you might know where…”

Flynn shook his
head... He didn’t know anything, because he had spent the last two nights on
his raft, blinded by anger at his father… and then furious at Madison… jealous
of Leo. He had gone for a quick dive that morning, cleared his head… and
realized he had to find his father… Flynn had rushed to the Watch Tower to
apologize… but where was Alan Perry?

“He might be sick,
or something,” said Dale. “Decided to stay home… take a little break…”

“Uncle Dale!”
Flynn raised his voice. “My dad’s never taken a sick day, ever! You know that!”

“I know, I know!”
Dale raised his arms defensively. “But … he’s not that young anymore, is he?”
Suddenly, a deep frown appeared across the man’s forehead. He stepped up to
Flynn and said, “Maybe he was one of …” His voice trailed off. Dale was unable
to finish what he was about to say.

“One of what?”

“I’m not
suggesting anything… But I heard quite a few people got rounded up last night.”
Dale looked away, avoiding Flynn’s eyes.

Flynn stared at
him for a long moment, feeling sick to his stomach. He knew what it was that Dale
couldn’t bring himself to say… The Departure List had come out! His father had
mentioned the List and they had talked briefly about it…but Flynn had been so
caught up in the Trials that he had forgotten all about it… He hadn’t been
paying attention… In fact, Madison had spoken of the List too, but Flynn hadn’t
listened… A chill ran down his spine.

“I… I just don’t
know how to say it, Flynn,” said Dale, struggling to find the right words.

“Well, don’t say
it!” Flynn shouted angrily, spun on his heels and shot out of the door.

“Flynn!” Dale ran
after him, “I didn’t mean to…”

But Flynn was
already climbing down the rope ladder and making his way to the base of the
Watch Tower. Moments later, he disappeared into the maze of rooftop shacks
below. Dale Baker banged his fist on the door frame, but there was nothing he
could do to help his young friend. Such was life…

Flynn ran like the
wind! The walkways shook and rattled under his pounding feet, he jumped from
one platform to the next, pushing people out of his way, his mind focused on
one thing only. To get home! To find his father! His heart was pumping like
crazy in his chest. His strong legs were doing the work for him, taking him
across the bridges and over the canals, his eyes fixed on his building in the
distance, getting closer and closer. Almost there…

Flynn leaped from
the bridge onto the roof and shot past Dino, dozing on a chair in front of his
shack. There wasn’t any point asking the man for a ride in the elevator, so
Flynn sprinted up the stairs, taking a few steps at the time. He was out of
breath by the time he kicked back the door flap and entered his apartment.

“Dad!” he shouted
as he skidded to a stop. Nothing but silence greeted Flynn! All he could hear
was his own heavy breathing. His eyes darted across the room, searching, hoping
against hope… “Dad!” Flynn’s voice pitched higher in desperation. “Answer me,
damn it!”

There was no
reply! He ran to the bathroom cubicle and threw back the curtain. Empty! There
was no one there. Flynn stood still for a moment, then shot out of the
apartment and tore down the stairs. Moments later, he was standing in front of
Dino. The man was snoring softly under the shadow of the shack’s tattered
awning. Flynn grabbed Dino’s massive shoulder and shook it hard. “Have you seen
my dad?” he yelled.

Dino lifted his
heavy eyelids, his bleary eyes trying to focus on Flynn. “I ain’t seen nothin’,
Perry boy,” he mumbled.

“C’mon, man!”
Flynn shook Dino’s shoulder again. “Where were you last night? Did they take
him?”

“I was sleepin’,
alright! Mindin’ my business.”

“The List came
out… did they take my dad?” Flynn was shouting now.

Dino pushed Flynn
and rose slowly from his chair. There was a smirk on his face now. “Let’s just
say, your pa made me some dough last night,” said Dino, snickering. “’Coz I put
a bet on ‘im, see…I bet they’d take ‘im…and they did…Now, get lost!” He stepped
up to Flynn and shoved him roughly against the wall.

Flynn’s fingers
curled into fists. “Don’t you dare touch me, you stupid idiot!”

Dino took a swing
at Flynn, but Flynn was faster. He ducked quickly, letting Dino’s hand fly past
his face and slam into the wall. The heavy body followed the swinging arm, and
all Flynn had to do was kick Dino in the shin. The man hit the floor with a
loud thud. Grunting, he rose to his knees and grabbed blindly for Flynn’s
ankles. But Flynn wasn’t there anymore. He was already running up the stairs,
ignoring Dino’s loud curses.

Back on his
landing, Flynn stopped in front of their neighbor’s apartment and knocked on
the door frame. “Mrs. Voinovich!” he shouted. “Have you seen my father?” He
waited a beat then knocked again. “Mrs. Voinovich… Are you in there?” No
answer. Flynn stepped over to the window and pressed his face against the dirty
nylon sheet covering the hole in the wall. He could barely see the room through
the stained plastic, but it seemed empty. No movement in there either. He
pushed the door flap and walked inside.

The room was a
mess. Personal belongings scattered on the floor, spilled food, an overturned
chair… Flynn turned around and left. He walked back to his apartment and scanned
the room again. Everything was in its place, neat and clean, the way Alan Perry
liked it. Flynn’s eyes fell on the table and realized that his father had laid
out two plates, one for him and one for Flynn. He had prepared their dinner as
usual, and then left it untouched… He had been waiting for Flynn to come back…
he had even cooked his favorite dish! Squid soup… Suddenly, Flynn spotted the note
which Allan Perry had tucked under the soup bowl. Staring at the piece of paper,
Flynn tried not to cry. His father had written “
Goodbye, son! Please,
forgive my harsh words
.”

“I’m so sorry,” a
voice whispered behind Flynn’s back. It was Mr. Kowalski, standing at the door,
pale faced and wringing his hands. “You should’ve seen him last night, Flynn!”
said the old man with a furtive glance over his shoulder. “Your father held his
chin up high…,” the Archipelago’s ancient kept his voice low as he approached
Flynn. “That takes remarkable strength!” Mr. Kowalski mumbled something under
his breath and slowly backed out of the room.

Alone again, Flynn’s
helplessness and despair turned into anger. He kicked furiously at the table
then grabbed one of the chairs and threw it against the opposite wall. Sweeping
boxes from their shelves, Flynn went on a mad rampage… When he was done, the
little apartment looked like it had been hit by a tornado. Standing back to
inspect the damage, Flynn felt his head begin to clear. Suddenly, Flynn knew
what he had to do… He was going to find his father and save him… no matter
what!

A flapping sound
made Flynn turn his head. A bird had landed on the windowsill, and was tap-tapping
its beak against the plastic sheet. Stepping outside, Flynn saw that it was a
carrier pigeon, waiting for him. The red ribbon on its leg meant it was one of
Madison’s, and there was a rolled up note around its neck.

“Go away!” Flynn
cried, trying to shoo the bird away with his hand.

 The pigeon took
off, circled and landed quickly next to Flynn. Clearly, it wasn’t going to
leave before its message had been delivered. What could the girl possibly want
from him? He had made it clear that he would never speak to her again… Annoyed,
Flynn reached out and took the roll of paper. Madison’s note was brief.

It said:
Tony’s
on the List.

“They took him!
They took my boy!” Mrs. Romero wailed, choking on her tears. Her face was
swollen, her eyes red and puffy. She stared blankly at Flynn, then buried her
face in her hands and sank back into the shabby mattress.

Flynn had found
her like that when he had burst into Tony’s apartment. Doubled over, Mrs.
Romero’s voice was hoarse from crying all night long. Her frail shoulders
trembled with every sob. He had also found Madison sitting next to the woman. The
girl now had a cup of water in her hand. “Here Mrs. Romero, drink this,”
Madison said gently.

Tony’s mother
lifted her head, looked at the cup for a moment then burst into tears again.

“Mrs. Romero…”
Flynn cleared his throat. “I'm sure it’s all some kind of mistake… And I’ll
make sure they fix it.”

“My child’s gone!”
the woman wailed. “He’s as good as dead now! Nothing matters anymore!”

“He’s not dead,
Mrs. Romero…” Flynn started to say.

“Leave me alone!”
the woman cried. “It’s all your fault… All that stupid diving, Flynn… you made
my Tony sick… and now look what’s happened!” 

“Mrs. Romero…”
Flynn’s eyes darted to Madison, seeking help.

She shook her
head, got up from the bed and came over to him. “Let’s go,” she whispered. “There’s
nothing we can do here.”

Flynn nodded and
turned to leave. He stopped at the door and glanced back at the poor woman. “I’ll
find him, Mrs. Romero… I promise!”

He walked out and
rushed down the stairs, followed by Madison. She caught up with him at the
docking area and grabbed his shoulder.

“Flynn!”

“Let go!” Flynn
jerked his shoulder free from her grasp.

“Wait...where’re
you going?”

“To the Van Zandt
building… I'll talk to Duncan Roth. Tony’s my Crew Mate.”

“Don't be stupid,
Flynn! You'll only make it worse.”

He didn't answer.

“Listen...”
Madison said, “I know what you're thinking, but...we need to be rational here…
we should come up with a plan.”

“We?” Flynn spat,
narrowing his eyes. “There's no
we
anymore!”

“You know you need
me back on your team, Flynn!”Madison pleaded. “Tony’s my friend as much as he’s
yours. I can help … you owe me that much!”