The Deep (23 page)

“Let’s try one lower,” Walt suggest, pulling
me back to the staircase and leading the way to the lower decks.
When we enter a dark, stuffy corridor on the left, a strange smell
penetrates my nose immediately. It must be what coals smell like –
reminiscent of the scent of burning wood, aromatic and smoky.
There’s no one in sight, but the main door at the end of the
corridor is ajar, and it seems to lead to the engine room.

“Over here,” I say, gesturing at a long row
of doors that look just like the entrance to our private cabin.
“Maybe we should try these?”

I push open the first door, only to find
piles of bits and pieces inside. There’s canned food – something I
got to know during our stay in Dartmoor – that looks to be enough
to last us for months if need be, as well as things I don’t
recognize at all. But again, no rope. Walt is trying the next door
in the meantime.

“Leia,” he hisses softly.

Something in his voice alarms me, stopping my
heart for a moment. “What?” I whisper.

“There’s … weapons in here. Guns.”

I shove my door closed and dart over to Walt.
“What do you mean?” My voice trails off when my gaze lands on the
shelves, filled to the brim with weapons. The kind of guns the
guards in Dartmoor were wearing, as well as a big pile of needles.
Dozens of them. What the blazes are they doing on a ship belonging
to a bishop?

Just then, Aldin’s voice echoes down the
corridor, making us both freeze.

“You weren’t exactly meant to see that,” he
slowly says.

I am sitting in our quarters together with
Walt, my face tear-stained. Aldin has locked us up here. It doesn’t
take long for Tony and William to be forcefully marched down the
corridor as well. They’ll probably be locked up in their own
cabin.

“What is Aldin trying to pull?” I mumble,
still in shock.

Walt closes his eyes. “What, with a ship full
of weapons and lackeys? Looks like he wants to attack Tresco.”

“But why?” I fly into a rage. “We didn’t do
anything to him. Okay, so we secretly went to Exeter, but why
wouldn’t he want us to go inside that cathedral if terminal
patients are allowed in too?”

“I don’t know.” He hugs me gently. “I wish we
had never gone to Cornwall.”

Deep misery washes over me. “No, I wish we
had never run into certain people,” I whisper.

Our ship steadily plows through the waves
toward the island. Outside it’s getting dark. The full moon
illuminates the scene visible from our porthole – the
Explorer
is still faithfully sailing along. Poor Captain Tom
doesn’t have any idea that he’s accompanying a warship to Tresco,
and nobody is about to clue him in. I’m pretty sure Aldin took
Tony’s radio away.

After a fretful night, we end up in a heavy
downpour in the morning. Walt anxiously looks outside to keep an
eye on the
Explorer
. The ship he and his dad built doesn’t
have an engine like ours, and it’s doing everything it can not to
capsize in the strong winds taunting the hull. They’ve had to douse
the sails and turn directly into the wind to avoid any damage. It’s
rolling and heaving in the towering waves, the
Crusader
mimicking its movements.

When the storm subsides and somebody finally
shows up to bring us some food, Walt addresses the deckhand
carrying our breakfast tray. “What’s going on? Why has Aldin locked
us up in here?”

The sailor smirks condescendingly. “For a
future leader, you’re shockingly dim-witted.”

His remark makes my skin crawl. Why would
this simple deckhand know something like that about Walt? We
haven’t really brought it up during our time here.

After the sailor has left, I hear Tony and
William knocking on the wood paneling between our two rooms. They
probably want to let us know they’re still alive. I flop
despondently down on the bed and munch on a crust of stale bread,
but Walt suddenly sits up a bit straighter and pricks up his ears.
“Tony’s telling me something,” he says.

“What do you…” I start out, but Walt raises
his hand to shush me and I fall silent, puzzled by his sudden focus
on the rhythmic ticking and knocking coming through the wall. To my
amazement, he leans over to the wall and starts to tick back. It’s
almost like a secret language.

“Tony is asking whether we’re all right,” he
says. “I’m asking him now if he knows what’s going on. I learned
this from a book in my uncle’s library. They call it Morse
code.”

Mouth agape, I observe how Walt and Tony
exchange information through this strange form of communication.
The longer Tony’s knocking persists, the paler Walt gets.

“What’s up?” I hiss at last, not able to keep
quiet any longer.

He turns around to face me. “Aldin has taken
us hostage. Once we get to Tresco, he intends to trade us for fifty
young, healthy men the Bookkeeper should select. They will work for
the Protester Church across the Waters.”

I am utterly blown. “But why doesn’t he just
ask his own people to work for him?” I want to know.

Walt laughs bitterly. “Because he needs
workers who can ransack old churches and cathedrals along the
coastline in order to gather treasure for his new church, and he
needs them to be able to carry out more than one mission. There’s
no point assembling a work team if they drop dead right after the
first church they enter. And he’s convinced the men and women of
Tresco are all immune to the disease.”

“He – he wants to turn them into slaves?”

“Yes. And he needed the
Explorer
to
find our island. He needed people who know the way. Tony says we’re
almost there.”

“That – that fucking bastard!” I explode. My
hands clench into fists and I storm toward the door, pummeling it
with my hands. “Release us! Let us go!” Walt tries to calm me down,
but I don’t listen. I keep banging on the door until my skin is raw
and my voice is hoarse, but no one bothers to come and listen to
me.

This is one giant death-trap with no way
out.

When the storm is over, we sail onward. On
our way to the end of Tresco as we know it. Now that Aldin and his
crew know the route, nothing will stop him from coming here more
often to forcibly take people and make them work for him. All in
service of his misguided plan. I thought he said his Book would
give the people more freedom, justice and humanness. If this is the
result, I’m not impressed.

I stand at the porthole and stare outside. My
breath hitches when I see land looming up ahead. “We’re here,” I
whisper, barely audible. “Walt. We’re home.”

He joins me at the window. “Yes,” he says
forlornly.

Our island is coming nearer and nearer. I can
imagine hundreds of people gathering on the quays of Hope Harbor,
craning their necks, eagerly looking forward to the moment the
Explorer
will lower her anchor and bring our seafarers home.
Finally, the watchtowers will have fulfilled their destiny. What
will come next – is Aldin going to dock his menacing, metal ship
and disembark to start shooting people?

I start when I hear footsteps in the
corridor. When the door opens, Aldin is there, flanked by three of
his assistants. “We need you on deck,” he just says. “So the people
at the harbor can see you’re still alive.”

William and Tony turn out to be waiting in
the narrow corridor as well. Tony’s brown skin looks pallid. He
puts a hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbles. “I should
have tried to release you myself. Aldin seemed reliable.”

“You couldn’t have known this,” I reply.

William doesn’t say anything. He just puts an
arm around Walt’s shoulders.

On deck, the sun is shining. The bright light
twinkling off the blue-gray waves of the sea is in such sharp
contrast with our bleak situation that it cuts through my soul. So
this is where Aldin will execute his terrible plan – on a warm,
sunny summer day.

The bearded bishop positions us all near the
railing. Far away, on the docks, I see tiny figures of people.

“Why?” I spit out. A single word that is
picked up by the wind and flung into Aldin’s face rigid with
determination. I surprise myself with it, because I’d already
concluded that keeping my mouth shut was probably best.

He stands up straighter. “My Book details
fights between God’s people and the infidels who didn’t recognize
Him as the Lord. Jericho fell under the sound of horns and battle
cries, the walls crumbling so the people could walk right in and
claim their rightful place. With the help of the islanders, I will
build my empire and my church and free the poisoned land from the
shadow of a distorted religion.”

“You call that justice?” I snap.
“
That’s
human? What about my people’s freedom?”

Aldin gives me a genuinely surprised look.
“It’s not human to smother every sign of aggression by lethal
injection. And it’s not just to keep an entire population fenced in
because of fear of violence. The God of the Old Testament fought
for his people. He vanquished their enemies. An eye for an eye, a
tooth for a tooth. I will reclaim the fertile land for the true
religion, like the crusaders in the old world did. I will adorn my
church and beautify it in honor of God. I didn’t choose the name of
this ship randomly.”

Tony scoffs, his eyes flashing fire. “You’re
even crazier than I thought,” he chokes out. “If you really believe
this is the solution to make Dartmoor a better place.”

Aldin turns pale, his jaw tightening. Before
Tony can utter more criticism, he lunges at our friend’s throat.
His hands clamp down on Tony’s neck, trying to strangle away the
words that declared his plan a fraud and a mistake. Tony’s eyes
start to bulge. He slings both arms around the railing and lifts
his legs to kick Aldin in the skins, the stomach, and between his
legs. The bishop won’t let go, though.

With a savage cry, William comes to Tony’s
defense. He lashes out at Aldin with a clenched fist and hits the
man full in the face. Blood starts to trickle from the church
leader’s nose. Meanwhile, the sailors are watching the brawl with
frozen, uncomprehending faces. Looks like they’re not used to
seeing a lot of violence either. Strange that these men are so
eager to help their leader in setting up a bloodthirsty institute
like the Protester Church, then.

“Do something!” Aldin barks at his
helpers.

That seems to shake them out of their stupor.
One of the men behind us reaches for the weapon on his belt.
Without warning, he shoots Walt’s father mercilessly in the
leg.

A harrowing cry rips out of William’s throat.
He staggers backward, slips – and tumbles over the railing.

“Dad!” Walt howls in despair.

Horrified, I try to swallow away the sudden
sand in my throat. I stand rooted to the spot, but Aldin is quick
to run over to the handrail and peer down to see where William has
ended up. When a smug smile spreads across his face, my stomach
lurches. William must have disappeared beneath the waves. Maybe he
can’t swim anymore.

Aldin stalks over to us. “I don’t want to
hear another peep out of you,” he hisses. “Just stay put and play
nice so the villagers can see you.”

Walt, Tony, and I don’t argue. We’re all
terrified, though I can feel the anger radiating off Walt. He must
be trying his utmost best not to lash out at Aldin too and possibly
endanger the rest of us.

As if things aren’t bad enough already, Aldin
goes on to bark an order I don’t even understand, but the deadly
effects are clear enough.

“Fire the cannons!” he roars.

Walt almost squeezes my hand to a pulp when
far away in the distance, one of the watchtowers crumbles to dust,
just like the illustrious walls of Jericho. They’re firing at the
city. Everything will burn.

After turning on the sound system, Aldin
delivers a public address to the people on shore. He tells the Hope
Harborers he will bring us back alive if they do as he says, but
that’s cold comfort.

I see no way out. Even if Walt, Tony, and I
somehow manage to escape, we won’t have solved the situation. As
long as they have this battleship, these people can take whatever
they want. And I have no doubt they will.

“There’s another ship?” I ask nonplussed.
“Why?

“We don’t know,” Daryl replies. “It’s
definitely a ship from the Other Side. Not made of wood, but of a
different material.” He rubs his face tiredly. “I heard what
happened to Phileas, by the way. The Bookkeeper ran into me on the
Scilly Way. The Phileans are crestfallen. I did hear a few upstarts
demanding I send in soldiers to have his murderer arrested,
though.”

“Mia is just a child,” I protest. “What do
they want with her?”

“Let’s just sort this out later.” Daryl casts
a look around the square. “Where’s your horse? We can ride back
together.”

“She’s at Saul’s.” I turn around to him. “You
coming?”

Saul hesitates for a beat, and that’s when I
understand he’s taken my question in the broad sense. I just wanted
to ask him to come back to the cabin with me. I hold my breath.

“Yes, I’m coming,” he says softly. “To Hope
Harbor. I want to see your ship. And those visitors from the Other
Side.”

I smile faintly. “Good for you.”

“And I want to know how Ben is doing.”

We are back at Saul’s house in no time. My
mare is waiting patiently, not disturbed by any of the events
related to the small-scale war that has broken out on our
island.

Before I can even ask Saul if he knows how to
ride a horse, he’s in the saddle. He didn’t even use the stirrups.
I gape at him.

“Our horses are wild,” he just says,
extending his hand to me with a cock-sure little smile on his face.
“You want me to help you?”