Dark Fathoms Page 20

  “Can’t,” he said as he squeezed off another shot. “I have to stop these guys from cutting the other line!”

  “Sir, could we enlist a few men to assist us in this matter?” Doc asked Chief Officer Markson.

  “I—” he began.

  “Keep in mind that Ryan saved more than a few lives here,” Mildred said. “And you probably don’t want those Downrunners to get their hands on them, right?”

  “All right, lads, let’s get a rhythm going!” Markson said. While a few guarded them from the leftover muties in the hull, the rest of the men joined Doc and Mildred in swaying back and forth, trying to get their boat to rock closer to the other one. All Krysty and Jak could do was cling to the seats of the wildly rocking boat.

  Then one of the muties from inside the ship appeared at the hatch nearest to the second boat. Before Ricky could draw a bead on him, he leaped out onto the hull of the craft, making it pitch and yaw even more. Scurrying to the rearmost line, he began cutting at it with a small blade.

  “Fireblast!” As their boat reached the apex of its arc toward the other boat, Ryan dropped the hook pole. He stepped onto the stern and jumped across onto the other one, landing on his hands and knees with a thud that shook the entire craft. “Just hold on, Krysty, Jak!”

  “Easier if you not try knock boat to pieces!” the albino retorted.

  Ryan tried to stand, but his knee flared with pain. Undaunted, he drew his panga and began crawling along the edge of the boat toward the mutie, who saw him coming and cut at the line even faster. Reaching him, Ryan swiped at his head, the panga chopping into his temple and knocking him off the boat into the water.

  However, the damage was already done. Stressed by all of the motion, the half-cut line separated. The boat’s aft swung all the way around, almost hitting the first boat. Jak lost his grip and plummeted into the churning ocean. Krysty, however, managed to hold on, gripping the seat with both hands.

  “Help me, Ryan!”

  “I’m coming!” Ryan threw himself onto the front section of the boat, and clung to the last line holding the longboat to the big vessel. He reached down with one hand toward Krysty. “Grab my hand!”

  She reached up toward his grasping fingers. “Too...far away!”

  “All right, just hold on!” Letting go of the rope, Ryan secured himself on the bow of the boat and was able to reach down a few more inches. Krysty pulled herself up, and was able to grab his hand—

  Just as another mutie leaped from the boat and landed on the redhead, knocking her away from Ryan. He grabbed for her again, but she and the mutie fell away from the longboat and into the frothing water below.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Still trying to shove the mutie away, Krysty plunged into the blue-green water, hitting hard enough to knock the breath out of her.

  Looking around in the bubble-filled chop created by the big ship’s passing, she oriented herself and began swimming for the surface. However, when she was only a few feet away from it, she felt something catch her ankle and begin dragging her toward the hull.

  Her lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, Krysty bent to free herself, but the coil of rope was looped tightly around her foot. She groped for the small dagger on her belt to cut herself free, but before she could, she was dragged through the water and through a dark hole into the hull of the ship itself.

  By now she was starting to black out from the lack of oxygen and her exertions, but she still managed to pull her blade and start sawing at the cord as she was being hoisted into a pitch-black room. The hole beneath her closed, and another one on the side of the room opened, allowing light in as the water began pouring back into the ocean.

  She panted, filling her lungs as the water continued draining out the grated exit. Now that she was inside, she heard and felt the thrum of some kind of generator at work. As the water around her receded, she took a moment to look around.

  She stood in a rectangular room roughly six feet by ten. The side curved up and out, which made sense, since it was part of the hull. A small door with a wheel in the middle was on the opposite wall. The rest of the place was solid metal, including the ceiling.

  As the last foot of water drained from the room, she waded to the door and tried turning the wheel, to no avail. Krysty sucked in one more breath before attempting to talk.

  “J.B.? Jak? Anybody around?” she called out.

  “Krysty? Is that you?” J.B.’s voice echoed from somewhere nearby.

  “Yeah. Are you all right? Where are you?”

  “Yeah, and I don’t know,” the Armorer answered. “Fell overboard and got dragged into the big boat. I’m in a small room, all metal. You?”

  “Pretty much the same.” Glancing down, she saw that the loop of rope or twine or whatever had dragged her in here was gone. That made her frown. She was pretty sure no one had been in here with her. “You see any sign of Jak?”

  “Not yet,” J.B. replied. “Think they’re keeping us in separate rooms.”

  “You got a way out?”

  “Not yet...but I haven’t started looking, either.”

  “What do you think’s going on?” Krysty asked.

  “If I had to guess...seems there’s some disagreement between the folks living up top and these poor bastards dwelling belowdecks. But we’ll have to find out exactly what’s going on.”

  As if they were being observed, the wheel in the door to Krysty’s room suddenly spun. She backed away, drawing her blaster as she did.

  The wheel came to a stop, and the door opened to reveal a normal-looking, if very pale, woman on the other side. She was dressed in a hodgepodge of clothes, with ragged-hemmed pants from some kind of uniform held up with rope and a sleeveless top that looked to be hacked out of a large plastic bag. She was barefoot, and her dishwater-blond hair was cut severely short, practically buzzed to the scalp. She might have been thirty years old or fifty—it was hard to tell under the smudges of grease and dirt on her face. Her eyes were a clear, bright blue. Both of her hands were raised in front of her.

  “One more step, and I shoot,” Krysty said.

  The woman slowly nodded. “I understand. I’m sorry that we had to bring you aboard that way. My name is Raina. What is yours?”

  “Krysty Wroth.”

  The woman’s calm demeanor caught the redhead off guard. J.B. had also fallen silent, but she had no doubt he was listening to every word they were saying. “Why did you nearly kill me and my friends?”

  “We had no choice!” the woman said, making Krysty raise her blaster again. “Sorry. We simply couldn’t let you all go above...we had to save as many of you as we could.”

  “Save us? Save us from what?” Krysty asked.

  “It would be easier if I could show you,” Raina said. “We really do not wish you any harm. In fact, we need your help. May I take you out of here so you can meet the others?”

  Krysty frowned at that. “Do you have my other friends down here, as well?”

  Raina shook her head. “No, we were only able to free three of you—the one with the lenses on his face and the white-haired boy. The others were taken above. They are among the Topsiders now.” Her face twisted with fear and, Krysty thought, more than a little anger.

  “All right.” Krysty aimed her blaster at the woman again. “Before we do anything, I want to see both of them. You will remain with me as our hostage while I talk with them. If we decide to meet with the rest of your group, then you will be released. If not, you will help us find a way to get to the rest of my friends and off this ship.”

  Her eyes still on Krysty, the woman leaned back into the dark hallway, as if listening to someone standing next to her. She shook her head once, then again. Then she stepped into the room, twisting away from an arm that tried to restrain her.

  “We cannot promise that we can free your friends from the Topsiders, but I agree to the rest of your terms.” She raised her voice to make sure it carried to the person outside. “I, Raina of the Navgators, am
now your hostage, Krysty Wroth.”

  * * *

  WITHOUT THINKING, RYAN jumped off the dangling boat into the water, nearly landing on the mutie he’d just injured. The mutie threw up an arm to defend itself, but Ryan ignored the creature and dived under the surface, searching for his lover. She was nowhere to be seen. Surfacing just long enough to gulp a quick breath, he dived again, but couldn’t find any sign of her, or the others. It was as if they had completely vanished.

  In a killing rage, Ryan shot to the surface and grabbed the mutie around the throat, pressing with all his strength. “Where is she? What have you done with her?”

  “Ryan! Ryan! Ryan!” Mildred shouted almost in his ear. “Markson said the Downrunners probably grabbed her. She’s inside the ship, most likely with J.B. and Jak! She’s probably okay for now!”

  He looked over to see their boat floating a few feet away. “Let that one go. He’s of no use anyway,” Chief Officer Markson said.

  Ryan glanced back to see the head of the mutie in his hands lolling on its shoulders—he’d inadvertently strangled the creature to death.

  “Come back aboard, Ryan,” Mildred said, extending her hand. “The sharks will be here any moment.”

  Furious, wanting to tear open the ship with his bare hands until he found Krysty, Ryan took a breath and got hold of himself. Then he took Mildred’s and Ricky’s hands and allowed himself to be pulled aboard the longboat.

  As it began to rise into the air again, Ryan fixed the chief officer with his steeliest glare. “I’m going to do whatever I have to do to get her back. And not you or anyone on this bastard boat is going to stop me.”

  Instead of looking concerned or fearful, Markson just smiled. “Indeed. Then you will definitely wish to talk to the captain right away. It may be that you people are exactly whom we have been looking for.”

  “You’re damn right I want to talk to the captain,” Ryan said. “I want to see him the second we get up there.”

  “I will convey your request. However, the captain sees whom he wants when he wants,” Markson replied.

  Ryan pushed over to the chief officer until he was standing right in front of him. “Then you better make sure he wants to see me right away.”

  “As I said, I will pass along your request to him,” Markson replied. “I can assure you that the young woman is not in any danger. She is too valuable to them.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” Mildred said. “Why is that, exactly?”

  Markson cleared his throat. “Well, as I presume that she is a healthy woman in all respects, she would be invaluable to them as breeding stock.”

  Ryan didn’t say anything at that, he just ground his teeth together.

  “Jesus wept—it doesn’t matter where we go, the women are always used like goddamn cattle!” Mildred exclaimed.

  “We’re here,” Markson said. “Welcome to the Ocean Queen.”

  The boat had been lifted up to a jury-rigged framework that other crew members had been pulling the ropes through. As Ryan, Mildred, Ricky, and Doc got off the longboat, they took in their surroundings with wide eyes.

  They had been brought up onto the middle front portion of the ship, which also appeared to be its gardens. Everything from ground vegetables to tall, tropical trees were growing here in large wooden boxes of dirt. More than a dozen white-uniformed men and women moved among them, tending to the various plants.

  “My goodness,” Doc said, staring at the profusion of flora with wonder in his eyes. “I have not seen the likes of this in ages. And is that...a breadfruit tree? And you have pineapple plants...and there’s a banana tree, and a coconut tree....”

  Markson nodded. “You are correct, Dr. Tanner. You must be well-traveled indeed.”

  “What—oh, we get around,” he replied before being elbowed in the ribs by Mildred. “But as impressive as this is, it cannot be enough to feed everyone on board.”

  “Correct again. This is only one of several gardens we have. If you’d like, I would be happy to arrange a tour of them once you’re settled.”

  “That would be capital, good sir,” Doc said with a smile.

  “Huh. Guess the punishment for talking too much doesn’t extend to the higher officers,” Mildred said quietly.

  Only half paying attention to her, Ryan gave the garden a quick glance, instead looking around for the captain. To their left, several more decks rose into the air, in various states of disrepair. Some looked neat and clean, but others were rust-covered and filthy. One even looked as though an explosion or fire had burned it, as it was edged in black and the windows were gone. Above all of this was a row of large windows that ran from one end of the structure to the other. A man, also dressed all in white, including a hat, stood looking over everything.

  “Is that the captain?” Ryan asked as he pointed up to the solitary figure.

  “No. That is a relative of our benevolent savior Mr. De Kooning—the man who made all of this possible,” Markson replied. “He holds a hereditary position of importance on the ship as the representative of his ancestor’s ideals.” As if realizing what he was saying to Ryan, Markson cleared this throat. “Anyway, I’ve sent a messenger to the captain, who will no doubt want to see you right away.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Ryan replied as he waited impatiently. “You better hope you’re right.”

  * * *

  WITH RAINA STAYING ahead of her, Krysty walked to the exit. “Have your people pull back from the hallway. I don’t want any surprises when we step outside.”

  The woman nodded, then poked her head outside the doorway. “Pull back—I mean it. No one is to approach us, or I will be dead!”

  There was a beat of silence, then the sounds of at least one person moving away from the door. “Okay, now step out slowly,” Krysty said. Raina did so, and she stepped out right behind her, looking up and down the corridor to ensure there was no ambush laid for her. The hallway was dim, with barely burning lights in glass cages mounted every few yards along the ceiling. The air here was hot, thick and stale, kind of like what she had breathed at Poseidon Base, but worse. “All right, we’re going to J.B.—the one with glasses—next.”

  “All right, he’s being held in the room next to yours,” Raina replied. “I’m going to start walking there now.”

  “Right, but do it slowly,” Krysty replied. The two women began walking down the dark, dank corridor.

  “You’re not reacting like I expected you to,” Krysty said. “In fact, it seems like you do this a lot. I can’t imagine that the people you pick up are too agreeable about the situation.”

  “It depends,” Raina said. “When they’ve been on the ocean for weeks, and are close to starving to death or dying of thirst, they don’t mind too much. The important thing is to prevent them from going to the Topsiders.”

  “How did you get such a shit job?” Krysty asked.

  “Because I cannot bear children,” she replied. “It was either this or join a door squad.” She stopped in front of another wheel-operated door, locked shut with a heavy chain looped around it and a thick ring sticking out of the wall. “We’re here.”

  “Open it.”

  Raina unlooped the chain and spun the wheel, then pushed the door open. J.B. regarded the two women through his spectacles, then lowered his Mini-Uzi. “Nice work, Krysty,” he greeted her as he stepped into the hall.

  “Thanks. Now let’s go find Jak.”

  “He is being kept in a separate section,” Raina said. “He was—difficult to contain.”

  Krysty and J.B. exchanged wry smiles. “No doubt,” she said. “Just lead the way, and again, no tricks.”

  “I swear by De Kooning’s honor, we do not mean any of you harm,” Raina replied. “I’m telling you this so you are not alarmed when you see your friend.”

  “It’s unlikely that we will be,” J.B. replied, covering their backs with his submachine gun. More than once Krysty got the impression that they were being watched, but careful sca
ns around didn’t reveal anyone. If they were being observed, the people doing it were well hidden.

  Raina led them deeper into the bowels of the ship before stopping at a corner. “He is being watched by two men. I don’t know if they know what the situation is with us.”

  Krysty stepped up behind her and prodded her in the back with her blaster. “Then I guess you’d better inform them.”

  “All right. Just follow me.” Raina turned the corner and began walking to the men. Krysty signaled to J.B. that if there was any trouble, she’d take the man on the far right. He nodded.

  However, as they approached, the two men looked over and moved away from the door, their hands off their metal clubs. “The Chif sent word that you were coming with two Recovered, and that we are not to interfere,” one said.

  Raina nodded. “They wish to see their friend.”

  The second guard was already opening the door. “He is inside. I do not know if he’s awake yet.”

  J.B. grunted. “Probably faking it.”

  The door swung open, and Krysty saw Jak with his arms spread-eagled, each wrist chained to the wall. His head hung low, his bright white hair a curtain obscuring his face.

  “Even like that, he broke the jaw of one of our Recoverers,” the first guard commented.

  Krysty nodded. “Your man’s lucky that’s all that got broken. Jak? You awake?”

  The head bobbed a bit, then rose. “’Bout time, Krysty.”

  “Cheerful as ever,” J.B. said.

  “Hang by wrists couple hours, see how like it,” Jak shot back.

  “All right, get him down,” Krysty said.

  The two guards hesitated. “Our orders regarding him were very specific.”

  Krysty put the muzzle of her blaster next to Raina’s head. “Get him down or I put her down, right now.”

  Raina nodded. “I will ensure that no punishment comes to either of you.” One of the guards scurried to comply.

  “They’re releasing you, Jak,” Krysty said. “Don’t hurt them.”

  “Not gonna,” he replied. “Want weapons back.”