Burnt Sea: A Seabound Prequel (Seabound Chronicles Book 0) (12 page)

“The kids are all right, Rosa,” Frank said. “They’re basically having a
sleepover.”

“They are all right,” put in Ana
Ivanovna
,
“but they are eating like hyenas. Maybe you take less room because you are
taking more food, eh?”

Rosa scowled and adjusted the sunglasses hanging from the neck of her
shirt.

The arguments bounced back and forth. There was still too much division
between the runners, passengers, and crew. It didn’t help that many of the crew
came from poorer countries and didn’t always speak English well. Ana
Ivanovna
was their primary advocate. She was more than a
match for Rosa Cordova.

“You are wanting the crew to bunk together, yes?”
Ana
continued.
“So the runners can live in the crew cabins? You are not
thinking that we are still working to make sure everyone has food, and for this
work we are not getting paid.”

“Well, we’re certainly not getting a refund,” Rosa huffed. “Do you know
how long we saved to take this vacation?”

“Is no vacation,” Ana muttered.

“Please, would you shut up about how much you paid for your rooms?”
Frank said, not quite under his breath.

Rosa swelled like a bullfrog.

“Let’s hang on for a few more days,” Simon cut in. “This is all
temporary. I think the kids will be okay bunking together for a little while
longer. Kids are resilient, and under the circumstances they probably prefer
the company.” He thought about Esther, who was proving to be even more resilient
than he could have hoped. Once again he was grateful that he didn’t have to
worry as much about where she was in their little self-contained world. “Can we
get back to the cleaning issue?” he said. “I think Ana raised a good point
about the shifts—”

The lounge door swung open with a bang. Judith dashed over to where the
council sat around the largest round table. She still wore her running shoes
and her souvenir
Catalina
sweater.
She’d found one for Esther to wear too. It had been getting colder since the
storm.

“We got a message from the navy!” Judith announced.

“What kind of message?”

“Radio. They’re calling for ships in the vicinity to head to Guam.”

Simon felt a surge of hope. He sat back in his chair, trying to picture
where Guam was. If he remembered correctly, it was about three-quarters of the
way between Hawaii and the Philippines, north of Australia and Papua New
Guinea. They’d been drifting west since the storm, so there was a chance that
they weren’t too far away.

“Do they have food?” Horace asked, fingering the rolled cuff of the
suit jacket he had been wearing all week.

“I don’t know,” Judith said. “
Vinny
and Kim
didn’t actually talk to anyone. There’s a message playing on a loop, and they
happened upon the right frequency when they were scanning for signals.”

“Can we make it to Guam on our remaining fuel?” Frank asked.

“
Ren
thinks we can.”

“What kind of aid are they offering?” Simon asked.

Judith hesitated. “Well, they’re not technically offering anything. The
message sounds like it’s meant for navy ships in the area, but they’d have to
help a bunch of Americans, wouldn’t they? If they’re gathering in Guam, it has
to be in better shape than Hawaii.”

“Finally,” Rosa said. “This is what we’ve been waiting for.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Guam,” Frank said. “My son was stationed
there once, but I never made the trip.”

Simon hesitated. Would the navy really be in a position to help an
entire cruise ship full of people if they were still trying to establish
contact with
their
own vessels? No one else seemed to
share his reservations.

“I came straight to you so the representatives can vote,” Judith said.
“Can we set our course for Guam?
Ren
says we’ve been
drifting in the right general direction.”

“I think we should establish contact first and let them know we’re
coming,” Simon said.

“We can do that on the way,” Rosa said.

“Yeah, let’s head for Guam,” Frank said. “I can’t wait to get off this
infernal ship—and back on US soil.”

“Let’s vote,” Horace said.

“All in favor of Guam!”

Hands were raised all the way around the table. Simon abstained. For
some reason he got a sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of the automated
message. What if they got to Guam and no one was there? But Judith’s face lit
up when the motion passed, and she darted back to the bridge before Simon could
speak to her about his reservations.

Chapter 12—Guam

Judith

Judith stood in the
bow as they approached Guam.
The wind blew her hair back from her face. She’d washed it in seawater that
morning, and it felt crinkly and rough but cleaner than it had been in days.
They’d been on restricted rations, trying to use fresh water only for drinking
and food preparation. The desalination system cleaned the water using energy
from the running engines, so as they sailed toward the shores of Guam they were
replenishing their supply. Simon had insisted that they store most of the water
in case they encountered problems in Guam. It seemed like an unnecessary
precaution to Judith. Their journey would end on this little island at the edge
of Oceania.

It had been three days since they’d made the decision to head west, ten
days since the disaster. Judith had gotten used to a new normal on the ship,
following the same routines each day, but she was ready for the adventure to be
over.

She fixed her eyes on the horizon. The sky was dark for early
afternoon, the sea rougher than it had been since the storm. White-tipped waves
cascaded against the hull and stretched outward like strobes of light. Any
minute now they’d see the outlines of warships, shorelines, structures, civilization.
Their time on the
Catalina
had been
surreal, but soon they’d be with the navy. Everything would be okay.

Others joined her on deck. The people were in good spirits, stretching
their legs and reaching their arms out toward the obscured sun. It was like
they’d been living in a cave for a month and were finally walking toward the
opening. They chattered about their plans for when they reached the island.

“I’m going to kiss the ground. I don’t care how dirty it is.”

“I want to drink a cold beer on the beach. Think the navy has any
left?”

“I just want to find a way home . . . preferably on a plane.”

“This trip has been long enough for me.”

“I’m never setting foot on another boat.”

Judith couldn’t help thinking that when they reached dry land they’d
find out the eruption hadn’t been as bad as they’d heard. The world would have
stepped in to help, and they’d already be rebuilding. This whole detour at sea
would be like a dream.

Simon was up in the broadcast tower, monitoring communications with
Vinny
, but Esther had been allowed on deck. She climbed up
on the railing next to Judith.

“Judy, can we go on a battleship when we get to Guam?” Esther asked.

“Maybe. They probably have strict rules, though,” Judith said. “I don’t
know if they’ll let us.”

“Frank says all battleships are warships, but not all warships are
battleships.” Esther giggled. “Did
you
know that?”

“No, I didn’t.”

One of Esther’s pigtails had come loose in the breeze. Judith combed
her fingers through the little girl’s hair to fix it. Esther grinned up at her.

“Do they have turbine engines or electric
prop’uller
engines on battleships?”

“I have no idea.”

“Can we go to the beach when we get to Guam?”

“Maybe. You’re not tired of the ocean?”

“No way. I like the ocean. I want to be a sailor when I grow up. Do you
think I can, Judy?” Esther asked, her brown eyes bright and hopeful.

“I think you can be whatever you want,” Judith answered.

“That’s what Daddy said, but he was distracted. He’s always busy, isn’t
he, Judy?”

“Everyone relies on him,” Judith said.

“Yup. That’s because he’s the smartest man on the ship. Don’t you think
so?”

“Yes, I think you’re right.”

Esther nodded proudly. “Reggie’s stronger, though. He’s the strongest
man on the ship. And Frank is the best engineer on the ship. And Mrs. Cordova
is the meanest lady. And Mrs. Newton is the best pray-
er
. . .”

Esther rattled on about the people of the
Catalina
, and Judith only half listened. Was there something on the
horizon? That smudge of gray looked different from the cloud-burdened sky.
Judith gripped the cold railing. Yes, there was definitely something solid
there. Was it the coastline taking shape?

“I see it!” Manny said, joining them at the railing. He had given up on
wearing the sailor’s collar with his uniform. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing
a silver crucifix hanging on a slim chain. “It is the island.”

“Land,” Judith whispered. It wasn’t a mirage. They were going to be
okay.

It took an eternity for the island to grow large before them. The hazy
weather kept the details indistinct as they drew close. Judith searched for
some sign of navy ships gathering, but everything was amorphous, forming and
dissolving in the haze with each shift of the wind.

Then quite suddenly a concrete shape emerged. A small boat sailed
directly toward them from the island. A pair of big guns stood out on the prow,
and an American flag flew in the wind. There was one painted on the hull as
well.

We’re saved!
Judith thought.

The boat slowed when it was within a hundred yards of the
Catalina
. Then a voice amplified by a
loudspeaker droned across the water.

“You are in restricted waters. Turn back, and we will let you go
peacefully.”

“What does that mean, Judy?” Esther asked.

Surprise and confusion spread across the deck faster than wildfire.

“You are in restricted waters,” repeated the voice on the loudspeaker.
“Turn back.”

“What do we do?” Manny said.

“They can’t turn us away!” Judith spun to look up at the bridge. Could
Simon hear this?

The
Catalina
rumbled, and
then the engines went quiet. They drifted to a stop. The sudden silence was
deafening. Were they going to turn around?

“You are in restricted waters. We have no room for refugees. Turn back,
or you will be fired upon.”

“No,” Judith said. “They have to help us.”

“Repeat. You will be fired upon.”

They couldn’t be serious. But the boat still rode the waves in front of
them, the deck deceptively empty. The guns waited in the prow.

“Judy? What’s going on?” Esther asked.

Judith felt an electric shock go through her when she realized Esther
was still beside her, totally exposed.

“Esther,” she said quickly, gripping the little girl’s shoulders, “you
need to go back inside the ship right now. Do you understand?”

“But—”

“Right now. It’s not safe here.”

“I want to see!”

“No. Go inside and take all the other kids with you,” Judith ordered.
“Get Neal to help you. Go find Mrs. Gordon and baby
Cally
and stay with them, okay?”

“But I want to go to Guam!”

“Now!”

Esther continued to complain, but she did as she was told. She gathered
up Neal and the other children on the deck and led the way back into the
Catalina
. Judith and Manny exchanged
worried looks and turned back to the sea.

Two sailors had emerged and taken hold of the guns on the smaller boat.
They couldn’t truly be planning to fire on a distressed ship full of civilians,
could they?
Not when they weren’t in any danger.
It
was impossible. Judith gripped the railing tighter, but she didn’t take cover.

Simon

Simon
and
Vinny
sat in the broadcast tower, headsets
clutched over their ears. The radio repeated the same message that was being
relayed over the other ship’s loudspeaker. Panic simmered in Simon’s chest as
he looked back and forth between the threatening ship and his daughter on the
deck.

“Hold your fire,” he begged through the radio. “We need water and fuel.
We’re desperate.”

Down below, Esther gathered the other children and disappeared from
view. Simon breathed a little easier, but many of the adults were still on the
deck, staring at the ship blocking their path to Guam and safety.

“You are in restricted waters,” said the voice on the radio. “Turn
back, and we will let you go peacefully.”

“We have no weapons,” Simon shouted into the
mic
.
“We’re American citizens!”

The voice repeated the same emotionless message.
Restricted waters. Turn back. We will fire.
Vinny
stared imploringly at Simon, wide-eyed. There had to be some mistake. They
couldn’t mean it.

The
Catalina
floated like a
big, lumbering target in front of the little mosquito boat. She was no match
for the other ship, but they had nowhere else to go.

“Please,” Simon said. “You have to let us come ashore. We have children
aboard.”

There was a pause.

“We are under strict orders not to permit any nonmilitary personnel to
pass beyond this point.”

“Please, it’s a matter of life and death.”

“We are under strict orders . . .” The voice on the radio sounded less
sure, perhaps a bit more human.

“We’ve stopped our engines,” Simon said. “Please talk to me for a
minute, sailor. And for God’s sake, hold your fire!”

“I’m sorry, sir. We can’t let anyone disembark in Guam.”

Simon wrapped his fingers around the cord to the headset, casting about
for something to say.

“What’s your name, sailor?”

“Seaman Michael Williams.”

Whoever manned the loudspeaker outside was still shouting warnings at
the people on deck. Some crouched low, gazes fixed on the guns. Judith remained
standing, her blond hair flying loose from her ponytail.

Simon couldn’t let them down. He had to get through to this man.

“Michael, my name is Simon. I have a daughter on board this ship named
Esther. Her mother, Nina, and her sister, Naomi, were lost in San Diego. We’ve
been sailing for ten days, and there are over a thousand people on board. We
won’t last another week without more food, and we don’t have enough fuel left
to sail for that long anyway.” Simon swallowed hard and took a gamble.
“Michael, do you have any children? Or siblings?”

The radio was silent for a heartbeat. Then: “I have a kid brother.”

“What’s his name?” Simon asked.

“Matt.”

“If it was Matt on this ship, you would want someone to disobey orders
to help him. Wouldn’t you, Michael?”

“I’m sorry. We can’t help.”

“Please, Michael, we have nowhere to go,” Simon said. “And we need
answers. We have no idea what’s going on in the rest of the world.”

The boat still bobbed in front of the
Catalina
, guns trained on the decks. It was small enough to fit
inside the Atlantis Dining Hall with room to spare, but those guns made all the
difference.

“The world has gone to hell, sir,” said the voice on the radio.

“At least tell us where we should sail if you won’t help us,” Simon
said. “Please, Michael, for your brother’s sake.”

Desperation buzzed in Simon’s head. He felt like he was coming down
with a fever. He didn’t know what to do from here.

“There are no safe harbors,” Michael said. “The storms are getting
worse. There were earthquakes in China and . . . Sir, I can’t speak to you anymore.
You have to turn your ship around.”

Simon swallowed hard, fighting to stay calm. “I know you’re trying to
do your job, Michael,” he said, “but if this is the end of the world, isn’t
helping a group of innocents the right thing to do?”

Michael was silent for a moment. “We don’t have any help to give you,”
he said after a while. “Guam is basically ruined. The storm surges have been
catastrophic. We’re barely surviving ourselves.”

Simon leaned back in the chair and let out a long breath. So that was
it. Things were just as bad here as they were at sea.

“Thank you for your honesty, Michael,” he said. “We won’t cross into
the restricted zone, but please stop pointing your guns at our people. Is there
anywhere we can get fuel to keep us going for a bit longer? We have to keep
trying to get back to our families.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the radio. Simon wondered
if they had lost the connection. They needed help . . . information . . . something.
He had no idea what they were going to do.

“Seaman Williams?”

He waited.
Still no answer.
The men at the
guns below hadn’t moved.

Then the radio crackled.

“Permission to come aboard your ship, sir.”

Simon exchanged glances with
Vinny
.

“Sorry? Could you repeat that?”

“Permission to come aboard the cruise ship
Catalina
,” Michael said. “I’ll collect the passenger manifest to
add to our records.”