The Island of the Skull

by Matthew John Costello

  Sam rubbed his eyes. In a moment he took in the dank bunks, the dim light from the exposed bulbs on the ceiling, the smell of salt and sweat.

  “What?”

  “You better come on deck.”

  The dreams, the images faded, and then gone as soon as Sam’s feet hit the floor.

  “What is it?”

  Sam stood next to Rosa by the wheel.

  “It’s a pearl ship, see…one of the old ones. You can tell from the rigging, and small. But I see no one moving. We try radio, signal…nothing.”

  The words from this morning came back to Sam…the unknown.

  “So what are you doing?” Sam realized that though Rosa was captain, he had slowly taken Sam into his confidence, treating him like the lieutenant that he was.

  “We take a look. Maybe there is a problem. It’s very strange.”

  Within minutes the Mia Susana was beside the ship. Sam left the wheelhouse and went starboard as Rosa brought his ship alongside and then threw the engines into reverse so that he rested a few meters away from the mystery ship.

  It didn’t take long for everyone to see what was going on aboard the other ship.

  This close, the smell was overwhelming. The stench made Jorge gag, and some of the other crew brought their dirty hands up to their mouths to mask the foul odor.

  Sam felt bile rise at the back of his throat. But he was more interested in what the hell happened here.

  Tommy came and stood beside him.

  “Sam, do you see that, over there?”

  Tommy pointed aft on the small ship. At first Sam didn’t see anything, then he made out what was clearly an arm extended out from behind some crates.

  “Jesus,” Sam said.

  The ship drifted in the calm water, and Rosa had only to give the engine a little rev to keep the two ships close together.

  “What is it, Sam?”

  “Beats me kid. A painted ship on a painted ocean…”

  “Hm?”

  “A line from a poem. ‘The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.’ ”

  Then Rosa bellowed from the wheelhouse. “Ernesto? Come up here. Take the wheel.”

  From the sick look on the first mate’s face, Sam guessed that he was glad to get away from the stench.

  In moments, Rosa was at the railing. Most of the crew had backed up. Still fascinated, but wanting distance from the smell.

  “We have to go aboard,” Rosa said to no one in particular. “See what the hell happened. It’s crazy. No one there.”

  “There’s someone…” Sam said, pointing to the lifeless hand.

  Rosa nodded. “So I go aboard.”

  “Me too,” Sam said. Rosa turned and looked at Sam as if he might tell him no.

  But instead he said, “Sure. You go too.”

  “I’ll go,” Bakali said.

  Another nod from the captain. He turned back to the wheelhouse.

  “Bring us closer, now!”

  They waited while Ernesto had navigated the boat back and forth, edging closer to the ship. It’s good that the sea is so still, Sam thought. This could be a tricky maneuver.

  Then only a few feet separated the two boats.

  “Now,” Rosa said.

  He climbed on top of the railing and jumped. Bakali followed, and then Sam pulled himself up and jumped.

  And then they were on the ghost ship.

  Sam coughed; the smell on board was like something getting stuck in your throat.

  He walked over to the arm and discovered the first corpse.

  The body was positioned as if the sailor had gone to sleep on the deck, curled up, arm stretched out. Now close up, Sam could see that what skin was left on the arm had dried brown and leathery, like parchment. The head had hair, and spots of leather skin, but also exposed sections of skull.

  “What the hell…?” Bakali said.

  The swaggering Portuguese seemed rattled, and for the first time Sam saw him with some sympathy.

  Sam shook his head.

  He looked over at the Susana, now pulled away, probably to spare everyone from the stench.

  “Maybe the answer’s below,” Sam said. And he took the lead, as the other two followed almost reluctantly.

  The stench grew worse. It was unlike anything Sam had ever encountered, almost a living thing—if this ship wasn’t obviously a place of death.

  In a small mess, smaller even than the one on the Susana, two crewmen were hunched over a table. They looked as though they had drunk a lot of rum, and conked out sleeping but for the bony protrusions of skull, and the few skeletal fingers outstretched on the wooden table.

  No more rum for these two.

  “Sam, Bakali—here.”

  Sam followed the voice into a room, obviously the captain’s quarters, still cramped, almost a closet…but some privacy.

  Rosa stood there looking at the other captain.

  The captain’s shirt open, the exposed cavity of his chest on display.

  In front of him…charts.

  Rosa hesitated a moment, but then he came close, and turned the charts around.

  “Shows where they were.”

  Bakali said some words in Portuguese, Rosa answered.

  “What did you ask?”

  “If there’s anything there…about what happened.”

  Rosa shook his head. “No…nothing.”

  “Wait a minute,” Bakali said.

  He walked over to a small side table by the narrow bunk. A metal chest lay on the table, locked, as Bakali tried to pop the lid. Bakali took out his knife and started working the lock. “Maybe something in here…”

  Sam wanted off this boat. He didn’t know what killed everyone, but it looked like some disease, something poisonous. He noticed that the wood floor around the captain was dotted with dark maroon blotches. These people had been bleeding from open wounds, something killing them, making their bodies ooze.

  Best to get the hell off here.

  The chest popped open.

  And inside, three white balls, shiny, glowing even in the gloom of this room. One nearly the size of a baseball, the others more like golf balls.

  Bakali took one out.

  “Mother of God…look at these.”

  Pearls. Giant, amazing…pearls.

  Rosa walked over slowly.

  And now Sam detected a shift in the two men. They had been focused on the mystery of this ship of death, but now that vanished as though some tropical gust had blown those concerns away.

  And replaced it with something more basic.

  How much were those pearls worth?

  And then the thought, as yet unspoken, but Sam could guess what Rosa and Bakali were thinking.

  Where did they come from, these incredible pearls? And were there more?

  “Shut the chest,” Rosa said. “We will bring it aboard and…”

  He walked over to the captain’s charts. Those too had drops of maroon on them.

  “Not sure we should—”

  Rosa’s response was fast, almost violent. “Did you see them, those pearls? They came from—” He jabbed his finger on the chart showing where the ship had been. “—here. There could be more. We could be wealthy. Rich!”

  Sam nodded. “Or dead. Like them. You don’t know what—”

  “It didn’t come from diving, my Navy friend,” Bakali said, swagger returning. “We have their charts, and we can find where they came from.”

  “And if we want to stay well, we best get off this ship now.”

  Bakali had the chest, Rosa the charts, and they started topside…and with a last look at the pathetic corpse of the captain, Sam followed them.

  Ernesto tossed a wine bottle filled with gasoline onto the ship. The bottle smashed on the deck, and instantly flames spread over the ship. The dry wood and—Sam imagined—the dry bodies would probably immediately catch fire, burn quickly.

  But were they burning the ship because of whatever diseases it might carry…or to preserve the secret of those pearls,
a find like no other?

  No one said anything as the ship drifted away now, completely aflame, the heat reaching Sam despite the distance.

  Rosa turned the Susana away, then accelerated….

  After another minute, something on the burning ship exploded, sending fiery chunks of the deck flying into the sky.

  In minutes, it was over, the sea quiet, the ship gone.

  Behind them the sun had reached the sea, the sky above them darkening.

  And Sam didn’t say anything, certainly not to Tommy who brought him onto this ship, to this journey.

  The thought: He wanted to get off, right here, right now.

  But that, of course was impossible….

  28

  Atlantic City, New Jersey

  ANN SHUT THE DOOR TO the diving bell. She saw some of the people make a face as they slid in—the smell of sweat was overwhelming, and the few minutes of open door did little to dispel the hot, swamplike odor.

  Must be what it’s like in a jungle, Ann thought. Sweating so much, and all the plants and trees closed in tight, so tight you almost can’t breathe.

  She locked the door and went back to the controls for the bell.

  Weeks after coming to the Steel Pier, she still was stuck putting people into the diving bell for the “adventure of a lifetime.”

  How much longer could she stand it? She wasn’t sure.

  She started her all-too-familiar spiel to the trapped tourists, now beginning to sink below the planks of the boardwalk….

  “You’re about to travel…”

  The bell sat on the bottom, while Ann looked at the clock. A few minutes for them to look out at nothing before she’d bring them up again.

  “Having fun, kiddo?”

  She turned around to see Johnny, Susan’s boyfriend.

  “Loads.”

  “You haven’t showed up at the club on Fridays.” He held his glance a few moments too long, and Ann looked away. A gorilla like this was the last thing she needed in her life. Right now, all she could think about was getting back to New York.

  But money was still a problem.

  “You know, a club like mine always does better when there are beautiful women in it. And you must know…you are some dish.”

  “Really? I haven’t heard. Excuse me—”

  She started to bring the diving bell up, accompanied with her script congratulating all the brave underwater explorers.

  When it popped up, shimmering with the sea water cascading off it—a swim would be so great now—she pulled the door open. Johnny was still there.

  “A dish like you could make some influential friends. You do want to stay here, right? You’re a performer.”

  “So I thought.”

  The crowd in the bell emptied, giddy from their fast rise to the surface. Ann started to take tickets from the line of people waiting.

  “Yeah, this is getting you nowhere fast. I suppose you heard by the way…the news from the Aquacade?”

  The last person entered, and Ann shut the door, bolting them in.

  “No? Turns out one of the girls showed up tipsy. Nadler fired her. So now he’s down one girl to dive with the horses. Heard you ride?”

  Now she turned to him. The diving horses…at least that would be performing.

  “I’ve done a lot of, you know, business dealings with Nadler. In fact, I do business with everyone along the whole damn boardwalk. I could put a word in for you.”

  “But he said if there was an opening—”

  “Look, there are a lot of babes on the pier who can ride. Know what I’m saying?”

  Ann realized that she was delaying the trip of the people locked in the bell. She put a hand up to Johnny, asking him to wait, and walked over to start the narrated journey.

  When they were on the bottom, she walked back to him.

  “You could put a word in for me? Get me the job?”

  “Could do. But then, I’d like you to do something for me.”

  Ann rolled her eyes, but Johnny quickly laughed. “No, nothing like that, toots. All I want you to do is come to the club Friday. Have some fun. Be nice to the customers. Dance a little, drink a little. You do drink?”

  “Not much.”

  “No matter. And that’s it. So what do you say?”

  How many more days could she go on running these crowds up and down in the diving bell, reading the same boring words, day in and day out?

  She imagined the thrill of diving with horses. Sure, she didn’t like the water, but she guessed she’d only be there for a few minutes, then out.

  People would clap, cheer.

  Almost like real showbiz.

  “That’s it, hm? That’s all you want me to do?”

  “That’s it. Just come to the club.”

  “Deal,” she said quickly.

  Johnny grinned, and then stuck out his hand. He shook Ann’s, enveloping her small hand in something that felt like a giant paw. Not someone she liked to get mad at her, she knew that for sure.

  “There, that wasn’t so hard, hm? Now I’ll go find Nadler. See you around kiddo.”

  He turned and walked away from the diving bell.

  Could he really do it, really get her the job…that easy?

  Guess she’d find out soon enough.

  Ann checked that there was nothing left behind in the bell after the last ride of the day. The sun had slipped below the taffy and game joints on the boardwalk, and the sky was darkening.

  Maybe she had been stupid to believe Johnny.

  Ann was stuck doing this until she had enough money to go back to New York, survive for a while, while she hunted for work.

  If there was work to be found.

  She saw a giant wad of still-wet gum under the circular metal bench. She pulled a small metal file that they gave her for just such a situation. She scraped the gum off the floor. It was still a bit wet, pliable.

  Disgusting.

  “Last time you’ll have to do that, Ann.”

  Nadler stood in the doorway, and she stood up so fast that she nearly hit her head on the low roof.

  “What?”

  “I need a new rider for the diving horses. You did say you ride, right?”

  A grin exploded on Ann’s face. She nearly ran and gave Nadler a hug—before she was aware that she had the wad of gum on a metal file in her hand.

  “Thank you. You won’t regret it! I love horses, all animals. I’ll work hard.”

  Nadler nodded. “Oh, it is hard work. We do six shows a day, seven on Saturday and Sunday. You’ll be wet most of the day, Ann.”

  She thought then of the ocean, of her fear of the water. Could she really do this…forget that she’d be diving into the sea on a horse?

  She’d have to. She wasn’t about to let her fear stop her.

  Nadler turned to walk away.

  “Mr. Nadler, I was wondering—”

  He stopped and turned back. “Yes?”

  “Does it pay any more, I mean the diving horses. I was thinking—”

  He laughed. “Of course it does. Not a fortune, Ann, but you are a performer. You may find that for the first time since you came here you have some pocket cash. Sound good?”

  “Great. And thanks.”

  Nadler’s eyes narrowed as if he was about to say something more…something serious.

  A word of caution maybe? A warning?

  But instead he just nodded. “You’re welcome. See you at the paddock at the end of the pier, tomorrow, 7:30 AM sharp. One of the trainers will show you the ropes. And get a good night’s sleep—you’ll need it.”

  Nadler walked away, and despite his good advice, Ann doubted she’d get much sleep that night thinking about diving horses and the Atlantic Ocean.

  29

  On an uncharted island

  THE GIRL RAN AS HARD as she could, scrambling to her feet every time a root pulled her down. The jungle was darker than anything she had ever seen, but even in that darkness one could see the shapes of giant l
eaves and the thick trunks of trees that towered unbelievably high before completely covering the sky.

  That, and the mammoth structures that blended into the jungle, overgrown with trees and suffocating vines. These monuments towered so high, dotted with openings, all guarded by gigantic stone faces.

  Looking up, the girl couldn’t see any sky, no stars, not any light at all from above.

  But as she ran, the roars faded.

  And where was she running?

  She couldn’t go back to the village, back to the wall.

  No one who had been given to Kong ever returned. They would not let her return. They would kill her.

  She knew this.

  And so, like some hunted animal, she kept racing through the jungle and the night. She stopped in an open area.

  For some reason the bushes and plants were not so dense here. Now, for the first time, there was finally a piece of sky, an odd-shaped piece of dark black dotted with the small points of light.

  She took a step, and the ground crunched beneath her feet in a strange way. She bent down and touched the ground, rough and crumbly under her fingers. She scooped some of the ground up and brought it to her nose.

  She sniffed.

  The burning smell made her yank her head back, the odor so much like the ground near the fires of the village, the strong smell of burnt wood.

  Fire had been here, burning down trees, the giant plants…fire that opened up the sky, and made this an open place.

  Open.

  She was standing in the open, under the scant light—but light nonetheless.

  Standing there, and so easily seen.

  She started running again.

  30

  The Indian Ocean

  “SO WHAT DO YOU THINK? The chief is a little loco, hm?”

  Sam looked up at Bakali. “I don’t know what to think. This is still all new to me, you know?”

  “Oh, I do know. It shows, my friend. And that one—” He pointed to Tommy sitting in the bow as the boat plowed through the crystal-clear water, leaving a brilliant white wake as it steamed ahead. “That one could be dangerous. To you, to me, to any diver down with him.”

  “He’s okay.”