The Roaming (Book 3): Haven's Promise

by Hegarty, W. J.

  It was early morning, just before sunrise, when Radzinski began his trek from a compartment somewhere just off of the Pit. He snaked his way through the ship until he was deposited near stowage and the staging area for the loading and unloading of excursions. Radzinski crept through an adjacent hallway, careful to keep out of view of Krysler’s men. Krysler himself wouldn’t show for at least three more hours.

  In a back corridor, close enough to the open hatch that doubled as a launch for the excursions and the fishery’s main working area, he waited and listened. At his feet was his duffel, packed solid with nearly every possession he could still call his own. He stayed in the shadows while he eavesdropped on those gathered around the small craft. Miller, Soraya, and Cortez readied the boat for launch. Radzinski’s former road-mates were packed for a one-way trip.

  Radzinski had made up his mind after a night of restless sleep. He came to a decision that weighed heavily on his soul. Whatever route he chose, there would be no turning back. Radzinski stopped dead in his tracks; he leaned his back heavily against the wall. “Fuck.”

  On the one hand, he was building a name for himself in Underworld and was in the process of a possible future with Sona, the queen of Frost. Just thinking about that title made him laugh at its ridiculousness. She didn’t need him; at least that was what he told himself. The cynic in him was convinced that he and Sona were merely using each other to achieve similar ends. For him, Sona was a place to lay his head. For Sona, he was a bit of muscle for the coming turf war. These problems were a weight on his shoulders that he felt he shouldn’t have to bear. After all, wasn’t he the one berating Miller for similar notions so long ago out on the road? Why risk your own life for someone else when getting yourself killed needlessly helps no one? And there was Miller, just steps away. He and Miller rarely, if ever, saw eye to eye, and even now he was confident that Miller would welcome him on his journey with open arms, all past grievances ignored or forgiven. That was just the kind of man Miller was. And maybe with a little help from Sona, Radzinski was realizing that that was the type of man he wanted to be, too.

  Radzinski lifted his duffel from the deck with something akin to a smile. He took one step toward the light when he bumped into a member of the janitorial staff busily mopping the deck.

  “Pardon me,” he said with barely a look in her direction.

  It didn’t matter if the janitor recognized him and ran straight to Todd to report another escapee from Underworld. By the time security was marshaled, he would be off, back on the sea and on his way to land with Miller and Soraya.

  The janitor leaned in close. She whispered into his ear, “Do not leave the ship.”

  Her words were just barely audible, but they were familiar nonetheless.

  “Jinsoku?” he said with a start, and he instantly went tense.

  She could cut him in half before he blinked. Radzinski would speak in whispers as well.

  She held a finger to her lips. “Shh,” she breathed as Radzinski scanned desperately for the glint of Jinsoku’s blade hiding inside of her blue maintenance uniform disguise.

  Radzinski was lost in thought over a future back on the road, and that carelessness was going to cost him his life. Lady Setsuko really is watching my every move. He knew he’d be dead in an instant; Jinsoku would be on him before he could call out. His only play was a bluff. “All I got to do is yell.” He straightened himself and pointed to Miller and the others gathered just around the corner.

  Jinsoku went completely unnoticed outside of her normal attire of a loose-fitting robe. She was covered from head to toe in the garb of the maintenance staff, and for the first time since he met her, her tattoos were completely covered, and her long, black hair was tied up on the top of her head beneath a cap.

  Jinsoku patted down the sides of her disguise. “I am unarmed.” She bowed slightly, exposing the back of her neck. If the gesture wasn’t a sign of peace, it was certainly a temporary act of submission. It was her way of letting him know she didn’t come to fight. “Do not abandon us. Underworld needs you,” she said as she raised her eyes to his, her neck still in a compromised position. “Please.”

  ~~~

  Just before sunrise, stowage was calm, peaceful. There was a serenity about the place before Krysler and his workers filled the room with their noise, when only the fishermen disturbed the calm. A cool breeze wafted through the deck from the opened port hatch. This close to land, the songs of the seagulls echoed throughout the quiet chamber. The fishermen hadn’t thrown their nets out yet. On any other day, they would have already been behind schedule, but this morning was an exception; the area was preoccupied with the preparations for an excursion, though this would be no ordinary trip. Cortez and his team were heading out, as was the norm. This time, they would return with fewer among their numbers.

  Soraya was double-checking her own bag when she pulled out a dented coffee can for Miller. “This is a gift from Sweet Lips. Special roast from his own personal supply. He told me to tell you ‘mahalo’ and that he wishes he could be here, but breakfast is too busy a shift to miss.”

  “Sweet Lips. That guy is too much.” Miller reminisced on the first time he met Haven’s head chef. The man was larger than life in every sense of the word and he left an impression. Sweet Lips was passionate about his work, and like most others in a position of power aboard this floating city, he took his job very seriously; he didn’t suffer fools when it came to the kitchen.

  Cortez was seeing Miller and Soraya off. It was time for Miller to begin a new journey. Miller had taken the Pepperbush survivors as far as he could; they were in safe hands under the care of Captain Kayembe. Now it was time for the former Army captain to attempt another miracle of sorts. His family needed saving; he was sure of it. Had this crusade been of his own design, he would have insisted that he go it alone—and alone he would have gone if he thought Soraya would have given him any say in the matter. They packed their gear onto the skiff, one bag each; they were traveling light. There was no guarantee that a working vehicle would be in the offing.

  Miller stood against a bulkhead while going over a map with Cortez. He and Soraya’s boat was packed and ready to go. As soon as the excursion team was all set for their own mission, they would be off.

  “This should do nicely.” Miller fingered a spot on the map and followed a course. “Drop us off at Atchafalaya Bay. From there we’ll make our way to Route 49 north to Shreveport. The trip should probably take about a month on foot. A car would be nice, but I’m not going to count on it. From there, we’ll hit Route 20 west, and eventually make our way to Route 40.”

  “And then follow the sunset for weeks.” Cortez folded the map for him, then tucked it away in Miller’s duffel. “Arizona is a long fucking way out there, hombre. You sure you want to do this?”

  Miller nodded in the affirmative.

  “I had to ask. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t say it one last time?” Cortez smiled. “I wish you luck on your journey, amigo.”

  “You’ll look after my people?” Miller asked as the two men who had become fast friends exchanged a final handshake.

  “Always.”

  The serenity was broken; Ahole was the herald for the remainder of the excursion team’s arrival in stowage. There was a lightness about them, not a solemn goodbye like Miller feared. They were happy, energetic, hopeful for the future for both themselves and Haven as well as for Miller and his journey. Miller did a double take when he noticed the extra numbers mingled with the excursion team. They were brandishing more than a few packed bags.

  “What is this?” Miller said with a confused smile. He was surprised, to be sure, but not entirely after Radzinski’s comment the night before.

  Soraya answered. “I asked around.” She seemed pleased with herself. “Some of the others wanted to join us.”

  Marisol rounded the corner first, wearing fresh leathers on loan from Genevieve. She nodded at Soraya as she passed on her way to the boat. “Thank you fo
r this.”

  “My pleasure.” Soraya smiled back.

  “I was sure you’d be around to ride Lancaster’s ass till the end of time,” Miller said.

  “Not a chance.”

  Ahole approached from behind and grabbed Miller and Soraya in a hug around the neck.

  “I love you, mate. Really, I do. But I love life here just that much more or I’d be going with you. You watch your ass out there.”

  “You too, Ahole,” said Miller. “Before we get going, I do have one question for you,” he asked with a smile.

  “Anything, Miller. You name it.”

  “What’s your real name?”

  Ahole grinned and wagged his finger at Miller. “Herbert, mate. Of course I grew up to be an asshole.”

  Alex always brought a fully packed duffel with her on every excursion. Miller noted that she had secured her bag in with his and Soraya’s stuff.

  “Alex?” Miller wasn’t surprised that she was leaving, only that she was leaving with them.

  “I always said I wasn’t staying.” She spread her arms. “I belong on the road, baby, and this bird is going to fly. Besides, it sounds like you’ve got a hell of a road trip ahead of you. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

  Miller gave her a smiling nod as he passed. He saw Ames fidgeting with Alex’s bags and thought it best to give them a moment.

  Ames clumsily fumbled with the straps. He wanted to appear as if he was helping secure her bag, but Alex knew better.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any chance I can talk you out of this.”

  “I don’t suppose I can convince you to come?”

  “You know I can’t.”

  “And you know I have to leave. Some things were never meant to last.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  They embraced for a final time. She smiled goodbye; he turned and left. Ames didn’t look back as he walked out of stowage. He didn’t want to make this any harder on himself than it already was.

  Genevieve was loading the boat and trying not to eavesdrop when Alex came up beside her.

  “I think this belongs to you.” Alex held out a closed hand. She guided Genevieve’s outstretched palm to it and dropped in her family locket. “Thank you,” Alex said. “For everything.”

  “Thank you.” Genevieve slid her necklace back on for the first time in months.

  “For what?”

  “For reminding us that there’s still people out there worth fighting for.”

  Ulrich also had a large bag packed. He slung it over his shoulder as he entered the launch area. “’Tis an honorable quest, Miller. I would help you find your family.” He didn’t wait for a reply as he shouldered past Miller on his way to the craft. Petrova escorted Ulrich to the boat, arm in arm.

  Tate, still wearing his blue one-piece mechanic’s uniform, rounded out the group. His bag was carelessly loaded with clothes sticking out and dragging behind him as if he had packed in a hurry, afraid he would be left behind. “So when do we leave?”

  Miller leaned over to Cortez and whispered, “I don’t even know his name.”

  Soraya peeked in from beside Cortez. “I have one more surprise for you, Miller,” she whispered as Sam rounded the corner with a portion of the Pepperbush survivors in tow.

  The assembled group mingled in stowage near the fishery like it was any other night at Trix’s bar. Sam, Vanessa, and Lillian were joined by Trix to see their friends off, new and old. Aiko and Jeremiah made it as well.

  “Has anyone seen Nisha? Or Markus and the girls?” Vanessa asked while looking around, half-expecting to see them already there.

  “It’s a shame they’re missing this.” Lillian was disappointed in their friends’ apparent lack of interest in Miller and the others’ departure, but after the way her mother had treated her, she had grown to expect little from anyone other than Vanessa. In fact, she had to talk herself into coming. Miller deserved the showing despite how cold she felt herself growing of late.

  Sam added, “Markus said they’d be here. I don’t know. I haven’t seen any of them since last night.” Sam was suspicious of Markus and the others’ absence, but he kept it to himself. He knew that if he showed the slightest bit of concern, Miller would cancel his trip and there was no telling if the ship would ever sail these waters again.

  Miller had come to respect Sam immensely during their time on the road. His only lament was that now, at the end, he wished he had made the effort to spend a little more time with the man in their new home. Regret was an old friend to Miller; things were always clearest for him when he was just past the point of being able to do anything to change an outcome.

  Sam’s shoulder-length gray hair blew in the breeze as he reached for a handshake. Miller reciprocated with a hand on Sam’s shoulder.

  “You did what you said you would do, son. You got us here safe. We can take it from here. You saved Soraya. Now go save your family.”

  “Soraya didn’t need saving.”

  “Oh yeah? Look at that girl’s smile and tell me you didn’t save her. You both needed saving. You just didn’t know it at the time.”

  Miller stole a glance at Soraya from across the bay; she lit up the room as Vanessa and the others wished her well on her journey. They laughed and told brief stories. The mood wasn’t like a goodbye at all; the room had more of an I’ll see you later atmosphere.

  “Godspeed, Captain,” Sam said firmly.

  “I appreciate the sentiment, Sam, but I’m no captain. Not anymore.”

  “Be that as it may, you’ve earned a title that demands respect, son. Wear it proud.”

  Sam was right; no longer would Miller consider himself former anything. Captain Miller would wear the rank he earned with pride.

  Isaac was helping his former boss secure her bag and weapons in the boat. He was melancholy, though he tried desperately to hide it. Marisol knew him too well and for too long for him to hide his feelings; besides, he wore his emotions on his sleeve.

  “So when you told me last night that you were quitting your job, I’d say you left out a pretty significant detail.”

  Marisol’s face tensed up somewhere between laughter and an apology. “Sorry. I thought if I told you ahead of time it would ruin our last night together.”

  “You’re probably right, as usual.”

  “Forgive me?”

  “Always. I’m going to miss you, ma’am.”

  “Me too, and what have I told you about that ma’am shit?”

  “Force of habit. I suppose it’s too late to change now.”

  “You never know. Keep at it. You may see me again someday.”

  “I’d like that. Take care of yourself, Marisol.”

  “You too, Isaac.”

  They embraced. Isaac held on a little longer and a little tighter than Marisol expected him to, then quickly ducked away, lest she see him cry.

  Miller was securing the last of Cortez’s gear to the boat. After all, this wasn’t merely a simple run to the shore; Cortez had an excursion to see to.

  “God, I feel bad leaving with so many of your team.”

  “Technically I’m only losing one. The rest of you were new hires anyway.”

  “Can you spare him?”

  “We’ll get by.” Cortez shrugged. “Besides, I’ve learned that once Ulrich’s made up his mind, there’s no changing it. He’ll be an asset out there.”

  Miller nodded in agreement.

  “Take care of yourself, amigo. And remember, if you ever find yourself in a coastal town, keep your eyes to the sea. You never know where we’ll pop up.”

  Across the room and just out of the way of the busy excursion team, Soraya hugged Aiko. The newly christened co-head of Haven’s medical staff began to weep, but not with the sloppy tears of a broken heart; it was more akin to the joyous tears of a friend moving away. The sort of parting where you plan on keeping in touch but both parties know that, in time, they’ll come to realize that goodbye truly was goodbye.

  �
��We just got you back,” Aiko sobbed. “God, why am I crying?”

  “It is the hormones. Do not be upset.” Soraya smiled and hugged her again.

  Jeremiah gave the women a moment alone. He made his way over to Miller. He had never been one for small talk; his presence was more than enough to let Miller know that he cared. He and Miller shook hands, the long, drawn-out kind of handshake that could have just as easily have been a hug under different circumstances. Jeremiah offered an uncommon smile and Miller almost laughed. Both men knew this was likely the last time they would see each other.

  “You always need a mission, Miller. You’re hardwired that way. First, you needed to ferry the survivors of Pepperbush to safety. Then reuniting with Soraya was paramount and you jumped headlong into Cortez’s team to achieve that end. The excursions themselves were their own mission. Now your father keeps you up nights. What comes after?”

  “I feel like you’re exaggerating, Jerry. At least a little.”

  “Quite the opposite, in fact. I’ve broken your obsession down to its most basic premise. Your need for duty, for purpose. No one would fault you for staying idle for a time.”

  “You know you’re the third person to tell me I’m a fool this week?”

  “A consensus can be a painful pill. Sometimes the majority is right.”

  “I appreciate your concern, Jerry. Really, I do. But I have to do this.”

  “I know you do, and I wish you luck. But what kind of friend would I be if I remained silent on the matter?”

  “You take care of yourself, Jerry. And that new family of yours.”

  “I plan to. Thank you. Be careful out there, and remember, you can’t save everyone. Goodbye, Miller.”

  Groups broke up and goodbyes were exchanged until one by one the skiff was boarded. Miller was the last to climb onto the away-craft as he gave a final look around Haven’s gray, steel walls. “I think I’m actually going to miss this place.” And with that, they were off.