by V. J. Timlin
Shit!
“One,” Dray replied. The tips of his boots shifted sideways. Anouk risked craning her neck to look up. Dray was standing with his back to her. The light beam flashed between his legs. He was scanning the water. “He must have slipped into the water. I heard a splash after he jumped.”
He? Really.
A dark, broad-shouldered figure stood next to him. Justin. “Aye. I heard it too.”
“He was carrying something big on his back, so he must have sunk to the bottom or swam back to the dock,” Dray said with a satisfied voice. “If he could swim, that is.”
“Bloody thieves!” Justin spat. “Trying to get on the ship and on the island to scavenge junk.”
“Aye,” Dray muttered in agreement. “Say, Justin, do you still have that bottle of good spirit hidden in the bridge?”
Justin grunted in a delighted tone.
“What if we have a nip before the captain comes back?”
“Or two.”
The two men burst into roaring laughter. They switched off their lights and soon the steps distanced as they walked to the wheelhouse to have their taster… or two.
A creaking of metal against metal sounded close to Anouk. Nat was crawling out from his hiding place. She pushed her backpack forward to the deck and started to wriggle towards it, wincing every time something clanged or screeched nearby. Nat appeared in front of her, and he lifted a piece of sheet steel, making room for her.
“That was close,” Anouk whispered when she was clear.
“Luckily they thought you had fallen into the water.”
“Yes. What was it that caused the splash, anyway?”
“I threw a beam in the water.”
“Thanks, good thinking.” Anouk crawled to sit against the gunwale. Nat sat next to her, his shoulder touching hers. She wanted to lean her head against it, but bit the inside of her cheek. This was not the time to get too comfortable.
The freighter’s gas headlights in the prow left Anouk and Nat in the shadows behind the heap of scrap metal.
Anouk turned to Nat. His features blended into the darkness against the dim light of the port. “I don’t know, but I find it a tad concerning that those men went to have a drink. It’s not a jubilant thought the ship is steered by drunken sailors, you know.”
Nat chuckled. “Don’t worry, they won’t get too drunk. We should make it to the island without sinking.”
Anouk glanced at the dark heap in front of them. “How reassuring.”
She pulled her backpack onto her lap and fumbled for a water flask. She took a long swig. The cool water caressed her dry tongue and throat. God, water could taste so sweet.
A small click came near her, and she turned to look for the source. Nat was holding his pocket watch—the ghostly green-illuminated clock face showed half-past eleven.
“The captain should be here soon and then the ship will depart.” Nat closed the lid of the timepiece and slipped it back into his vest.
Anouk put the flask away and took a better position against the gunwale. “How long does it take to Garbage Island?”
“We should be there around one o’clock.”
“So about an hour?”
“Aye, if nothing happens.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you never know. There might be pirates out there.”
Anouk’s jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be joking.”
“I wish I were, but outside Rondon, there are several smugglers caves along the coastline.”
Quite, pirates. Of course. Anouk swallowed hard. “What would they do if they come across this ship?”
“They would board, kill the crew and take the boat with its cargo.”
“Wonderful. This world of yours gets more charming the longer I stay here.”
Nat chuckled. “Glad you’re enjoying yourself.”
Anouk snorted.
“But to be serious, although there are pirates, I doubt we’ll end up fighting against them tonight. The king has sent the Navy to patrol along the shoreline after they attacked a ship of one of the major charter companies.”
“Yeah, that will usually get the authorities to act.”
Nat chuckled again. “Aye.”
The knowledge of the patrolling Navy eased Anouk’s nervous mind a little. She directed her focus on the mission. “So on the island, there are cranes to unload the ship, some warehouses and barracks for the workers, and the refinery. Where do you think Stalo will be hiding if he’s there?”
Nat’s shoulder brushed against Anouk’s when he shrugged.
Anouk leaned her head back and sighed. “So it’ll be like searching for a needle in a haystack. A particularly sharp one, that is.”
“I wouldn’t say that. It’s not that big an island.”
“Good that at least one of us is optimistic,” Anouk grumbled.
“Yes, I’ve noticed your tendency for pessimism.”
Anouk grinned at Nat. “A pessimist is never disappointed, only mildly surprised if things don’t pee in her shoes.”
“An interesting life philosophy,” Nat replied, amusement in his tone.
A door slammed shut in the distance. Anouk shifted to peek in the direction of approaching steps. A burly man walked towards the freighter, whistling an unfamiliar tune. He was wearing a dark double-breasted coat with matching straight trousers, and a black captain’s hat sat like a crown on his unruly white hair.
“That’s the captain,” Nat said next to her ear. “Now, try to get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”
Not wanting to argue with him, she curled up on the deck next to her backpack, sure she wouldn’t get any sleep. The prospect of what was awaiting them on the island had chased off any tiredness from her limbs.
The hiss and chuff of the cylinders and pistons grew louder as the freighter prepared to depart. The whole ship trembled, making the scrap metal mountain moan and creak ominously. Anouk gulped hard and flattened against the planking, praying the mountain wouldn’t collapse on them. Nat did likewise, lifting his knees up. She wanted to ask him if there had been any accidents where the pile had collapsed and killed people or sunk the boat. The noise was too deafening for her to be heard without raising her voice. Besides, she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know.
Hasty footfall and shouts from Justin and Dray came from the dock side of the boat. Judging by the calls, they were making sure the ship would depart the quay without any issues. They seemed to be unconcerned their load would endanger themselves. Still, Anouk couldn’t take her eyes off the dark creaking heap.
A hollow whistle pierced the air. The lights from the dock shifted when the freighter turned away towards the sea. Soon the only light source was the gas headlights in the prow. Against it, the mountain of the scrap metal rose like a frozen black version of The Great Wave off Kanagawa.
The trembling of the ship subdued into a soft shake and the clanging and screeching of the metal dissipated somewhat. It had been a minor miracle neither a sheet nor bar had rolled down onto the deck. She rested her head back and blew a soft sigh of relief. Closing her eyes, Anouk listened to the steamship pushing through the calm sea.
Someone touched her shoulder. She looked around, startled and disorientated. It took a few moments before Anouk realised where she was… on a steamship to Garbage Island. Had she really dozed off?
“We are docking soon,” Nat whispered. “We’d better hide.”
“Where? I’m not crawling under that heap again. I’m not taking the chance it won’t collapse this time.”
“No, it’s not safe to be under there when the ship is docking. The freighter will be tied to the dock on that side…” Nat waved towards their right side, “…so we’ll keep in the shadows on the opposite side, behind a coil of rope.”
“You’ve been on this boat before, haven’t you?” Anouk asked, amused.
“Maybe,” Nat replied, grinning.
The freighter started to tremble again when it slowed down bef
ore turning. The scrap metal heap groaned but nothing tumbled down. How that was possible, Anouk didn’t know, but she was grateful for it.
Justin’s voice came just a few yards from their hiding place. Anouk pressed deeper into the shadows of the coiled rope. He was calling to someone. The shaking of the ship intensified. Anouk swallowed, staring at the heap in front of her. What if it collapsed? They would be squashed to death.
The freighter bumped against something. A small but loud avalanche of metal parts rolled down on the deck. Anouk dug her head behind the coil, gluing herself to Nat’s side.
“For your information, this is bloody dangerous,” she whispered.
Nat said nothing but pulled her tighter against him.
The ship shook for a while longer then the engines went off. The shouts and footfall from the port side came clear now.
“Yep, she’s secure,” Justin called.
“Same here,” Dray called back from the other end.
“Good job. Better catch up on our beauty sleep then, boys,” a third man called.
“Aye, captain,” the men responded with enthusiasm.
Anouk relaxed a bit when the steps distanced. Greetings and laughter drifted from the platform. After several minutes they faded. The only sounds were the creaking of the ship and distant banging of heavy machinery at work—the refinery.
Nat eased his hands around Anouk. “Let’s go.”
“Okey-doke.” She nodded although she wouldn’t have minded staying in Nat’s arms until morning. It had felt very comfortable, but this was for the better. Getting too used to Nat’s warm body wasn’t a sensible idea—she was going back home when this was all over. If she survived.
They tiptoed towards the ship’s wheelhouse, circling the cargo. Nat stopped at the bridge and peeked behind the corner. “No one is about,” he whispered but made no move to leave their hiding place.
“You said the island is guarded.”
“It is and that’s why I find it strange I don’t see anyone.”
“Maybe they went inside with the crew.”
“Aye. The Navy is keeping its eye on these waters, so they might feel secure. After all, they left the gangplank in place. Still, we’d better wait for a little while just to make sure.”
Anouk bobbed her head in acknowledgement. Keep hidden and play it safe made sense.
Minutes stretched but the small dock remained deserted.
“Let’s get moving. I think the route is clear,” Nat said before heading to the narrow board connecting the ship and the platform.
Anouk followed him, keeping low and shooting glances around. Her skin prickled although she didn’t see the reason for it. She fixed her eyes on Nat’s back.
They walked onto the dim-lit platform. Two cranes and a giant pile of scrap metal at the far end loomed like menacing ghosts against scattered lights of the small dock and the distant lights from the refinery. In the sparse illumination, the island appeared bare and rocky.
Anouk looked up to the sky. Her jaw dropped and for the moment she forgot her apprehension for the mission. For once, there were no hazy smoke curtains blocking the stars and the moon; they shone bright like diamonds on black velvet. The night sky, with its moon, looked similar to what she had seen in her travels, just not quite the same. No Big Dipper or Orion. There… where the North Star should have been was a constellation of dim stars. A wave of homesickness washed over her… Common sense dictated she had no reason to feel like this. She would be home soon and this adventure would become nothing more than a distant memory. For the first time it dawned on her, she didn’t know exactly where Anglea was. There was no map on which she could put a pin to mark she had been here. There were no words to describe her awe.
Nat tapped on her shoulder, snapping her back to the present and to their mission. “Let’s check the buildings first.”
Anouk’s anxiety level shot up—it was too early to think about returning home and putting pins on maps.
They veered towards the warehouses close to the waterfront. Anouk jogged behind, resuming her duty of watching Nat’s back. She touched the revolver and the katana on her waist. Let Stalo and Captain Biddulph come. She would be prepared… or so she hoped.
Nat stopped in front of the first warehouse. “Night goggles,” he whispered.
“Oh, yes,” Anouk muttered and lifted the goggles over her eyes. The darkness gave way to a greenish light.
Nat tried the latch. The door opened with a screech, the sound of which bounced from the rocks. Anouk jumped, shooting worried looks around. The steam engines working at the refinery covered subtle noises, but the groan of the hinges was not in the least bit subtle. On the contrary. Moreover, if Stalo and the captain were inside, they would know by now to expect visitors. Anouk’s hand moved to her hip, and she pulled the gun. Nat did the same. They slipped through the door crack, but soon the warehouse proved to be a tool shed. There was no sign of Stalo or Captain Biddulph or anyone else for that matter. Anouk couldn’t decide if she was disappointed or relieved.
They searched the next warehouse, but the result was the same. On this occasion, Anouk realised her relief. As much as she wanted Stalo and his henchman behind bars, she didn’t want to face them on an island seemingly full of boulders, nooks and crannies. She couldn’t see the geography further than a few yards—Stalo could be watching them from his hiding place now, taking his time to shoot Anouk and Nat.
Nat gave a half smile. “Nervous?”
“Yes.” Anouk wasn’t going to lie, but she would not tell him she was nearing the brink of wetting herself. “Aren’t you?”
Nat regarded Anouk for a few seconds before he nodded. “Yes.”
“You are?” Anouk’s eyebrows shot up. She hadn’t expected him to confess outright. Not that he hadn’t said before he had his moments of fear.
“Aye.” Nat turned to scan the area. “But you get used to it. The danger is part of this job.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed.”
She followed Nat’s gaze. Further away from the dock were four barracks. Judging by the shouts and laughter, they were the workers’ living quarters.
“Stalo and Captain Biddulph are unlikely to be striking up friendships,” she said.
“No.” Nat pointed to the right of the barracks towards two warehouses. “Let’s check out those before we go to the refinery behind them.”
He broke into a jog. Anouk stayed close behind him, mirroring his movements and staying in the shadows.
They reached the first building of the two, and after picking the padlock, sneaked in. The interior was full of shadows, but the scent of machine oil lay heavy in the air. Two bulldozers occupied the space like sleeping giants, their engines still radiating heat. A quick search proved there was nothing else there that didn’t run on coal—no former warlords, or their henchmen.
They went to the last warehouse, but it turned out to be an innocent workshop and not a den of criminals.
“That leaves us one place to check.” Nat looked past Anouk, and she followed his gaze. The lights of the refinery wrapped the area in a bright cocoon. The chimney stretched skyward like Jack’s beanstalk; the dark smoke pillars it spat out added to the image.
“Great.” Anouk wasn’t impressed. The refinery would most likely have many ‘excellent’ corners to remain unseen. Not to mention the place would be stiflingly hot and filled with toxic fumes. Furthermore, if Stalo and the captain were indeed inside, the factory held plenty of opportunities to trick Anouk and Nat into an oven or a furnace of molten metal.
“The refinery is a dangerous place, so we must be extra vigilant about our surroundings.”
“No, really? And here I thought we were on a romantic moonlight walk,” Anouk snapped, but regretted it immediately. Nat lifted an inquisitive eyebrow.
Anouk hung her head. “I’m sorry, Nat. I shouldn’t take it out on you. I’m just so bloody scared to be face to face with Stalo again. After he broke into my home and threatened to kill me, I…”
She shook her head. “Every time, ever since, I’ve been paralysed with terror. So far I’ve survived, somehow, but I fear next time my luck will run out. After all, he’s a warlord and I’m just an accountant.”
“You have done well. This isn’t any different.” Nat placed his hand on Anouk’s shoulder. “I have faith in you.”
Anouk forced a smile on her face. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Nat smiled back and winked. “Come on.” He spun on his heels and walked out of the warehouse.
Anouk took a deep breath. “If I survive this, I’ll eat a whole lemon cheesecake to myself and wash it down with a bottle of the best champagne.”
Chapter 26
Anouk eyed the massive refinery complex as they zig-zagged towards it. The gaslights gave a yellow hue to its black, soot-covered brick walls. There were no windows, only metal stairs, leading up to a single iron door.
Without slowing, Nat ran up, taking two steps at a time. A relentless itch between her shoulder blades made Anouk give another quick scan across the yard before following him. No one had set off an alarm or come to stop them, but it didn’t mean there was no one lurking in the shadows. What if it was Stalo or Captain Biddulph whose eyes she felt watching her? She shook her head. No, otherwise she and Nat would have been shot already. Maybe the eyes she felt belonged to nocturnal wildlife.
By the time Anouk joined Nat, he was already keeping the door cracked open, his foot tapping the landing. Anouk opened her mouth to apologise, but Nat tilted his head towards the noise and slipped inside. The bangs and hisses of machines echoed sharp through the narrow gap. Anouk swallowed hard. She looked over her shoulder before slipping through the doorway.
The scorching heat, fumes, and cacophony of running machines slammed her senses with the force of a concrete wall. She coughed and pressed her hand over her nose while she fumbled for the mask. As she was about to pull it over her mouth, Nat shook his head. She let her mask drop back around her neck. He was right, breathing through it would be too laborious and she would pass out for sure.
The fire from the kilns, and the crucibles of molten metal gave the large manufacturing hall below her an angry orange glow. Production lines, ladders, catwalks, large melting cauldrons, cranks and lifts all criss-crossed over the large space. Men worked under them, manipulating the machines, poking the smelting ovens with long poles, and pouring liquid metal from cauldrons into square moulds with minimum protection—goggles, leather aprons and leather gloves.
