Interzone Science Fiction and Fantasy Magazine #226

by TTA Press Authors

  When Billy was released from the hospital, Amber walked him home. They talked of little things—how nice the breeze felt, how the clouds scudded so quietly across the sky. When they reached Billy's home he kissed her gently on the cheek.

  Amber walked in a happy daze all the way back to her shop.

  * * * *

  Soon Amber began seeing Billy Martin on a regular basis. Amber still didn't care for Billy's mother—she'd never forgotten the hatred on the woman's face when she learned Billy's name was on Amber's skin. However, Billy's mother now acted like Amber was the finest lady on earth and invited Amber to every Sunday dinner. Afterward Amber and Billy took long walks along the harbor, where sailors waved at the young couple.

  During one of their walks they stopped at an ice lolly vendor. As they sat on a park bench eating bites of cherry ice, Billy asked Amber what she wanted to do with her life.

  "I want to spend the rest of my life in a dry goods store,” she said sarcastically.

  Billy laughed. “Seriously,” he said.

  Amber smiled. “I'm not sure. All I've ever truly wanted is for the names to leave my body.” She held up her hand so he could see the names flowing around her fingers. For a moment, Amber was afraid she'd been too honest. “What about you?” she quickly asked.

  "I want to do something important. Something that really matters. Solve the big crime. Catch some infamous murderer. Save someone's life."

  Amber started to ask why Billy hadn't tried to save her father's life all those years ago, but she remembered how his mother had held Billy back, not wanting to risk his death in the sea. As if Billy knew what she was thinking, he coughed and changed the subject. “Isn't there anything else you've longed for?” he asked.

  "I would say to fall in love, but that wish has come true."

  Billy squeezed her hand gently and smiled.

  * * * *

  That spring was the best of Amber's life. She and Billy spent all their free time together. Even better, not a single sailor in Windspur died, so Amber's skin was still and quiet.

  Then the killings started.

  Amber felt the first killing on a bright Sunday morning when a name suddenly disappeared from her skin. However, instead of first burning white hot the name simply vanished with a sensuous kiss.

  Amber was still trying to figure out what had happened when another name vanished with a kiss, followed by a third and fourth. Amber remembered how Billy's name disappeared from her body with the same sensation and hoped this meant the men were no longer fated to die at sea. However, she was unsure, so she closed her store and hurried to tell Mrs Andercoust.

  The widow opened up her ledger. “They're all sailing on the Pendercast,” she said. “Left yesterday for a week-long fishing trip to the shoals."

  "Does this means they're safe, like Billy?"

  Mrs Andercoust shook her head. “I don't know. Perhaps we should tell the captains who are still in port. Outbound ships can keep an eye out for the Pendercast and see what happened to the sailors."

  Amber nodded, figuring they wouldn't know for sure until next week. But to her surprise, the following day the Pendercast sailed into harbor. News quickly spread that they'd been attacked by pirates, who'd killed four members of the crew.

  That night Billy and the Pendercast's captain stopped by to see Amber. Captain Zeller took off his hat and bowed to Amber before they sat down at her dining-room table.

  "We thought the ship needed help,” Captain Zeller said. “Just floating over the shoals, no cloth up except one shredded staysail. The crew waved at us so we pulled alongside. That's when they attacked. Seven of them, including David Sahr, all armed with Brown Bess muskets and sabers. We didn't stand a chance."

  Amber felt sick.

  "After we were tied up, Sahr walked down the line, asking each of my men his name. He then shot four of them in the back of the head."

  Captain Zeller held his hat to his chest and shook his head, tears tumbling from his eyes. Billy thanked him for coming and showed him to the door. When he returned, he told Amber that Captain Zeller had recognized the other men in Sahr's crew. “They're all named sailors,” Billy said. “Every one of them."

  "How did Sahr get Mrs Andercoust's list?"

  "I don't know. But he left this with Captain Zeller.” Billy pulled a tiny glass daguerreotype out of his coat pocket. The picture was similar to the one she'd seen before, except Amber was now the one hanging by the neck from the mast. The names of sailors still burned across her skin. And the face of the man with her on the tiny cutter wasn't blurry—he was crisp and clear and definitely David Sahr.

  Etched into the silver backing of this frame were the words “We died for Amber Tolester."

  Amber shivered. “I have another one of these,” she said. When she showed it to Billy, he shook his head in puzzlement.

  "I don't understand,” Billy muttered as he looked at the first daguerreotype. “Where did the names on your skin go?"

  "I don't know. I asked Richard Beard if it's possible to alter a daguerreotype. He said no."

  Billy stared closely at the two daguerreotypes. “So you've never taken these pictures?"

  "No."

  "And you don't know Sahr?"

  "No. I first saw him when he was carried off the Simply.” She paused, wishing she'd shown her daguerreotype to Billy months ago, because it now looked like she'd been hiding it from him. “But there is something I need to tell you. The night I pulled you from the sea, Sahr said he and I were fated to be together. When I refused to let you drown and go with Sahr, he knocked me out."

  "You didn't save me."

  "What?"

  "I mean, you did save me—by grabbing me after that wave hit. But when Sahr knocked you out, I fell back into the sea. Sahr's the one who pulled me back out. Ever since, I've been trying to figure out why. Maybe he thought he was helping you..."

  Billy shrugged, as if he didn't understand his own line of reasoning.

  When Billy left, he kissed Amber warmly on the cheek and said he'd take care of everything. But enough doubt existed in his eyes for Amber to remember the first time they'd kissed—and how he'd simply disappeared from her life after being named.

  As the door closed, she hurled all the curses she knew at David Sahr.

  * * * *

  Over the next few months, David Sahr and his pirates struck three more times. The first time, they attacked like before, waiting until a ship approached and executing every named sailor. After that, none of Windspur's fleet would go near unknown ships, so Sahr attacked at night without warning. He and his pirates overran the ships and killed anyone who stood up to them. Sahr would then find each named survivor and kill them too.

  Sahr always left behind one of two daguerreotypes of Amber. In the first, Amber stood at the helm of a ship, Sahr dead and hanging from the mast. In the other, he piloted the ship while she hung dead.

  The navy sent a frigate to patrol the waters, but found no sign of Sahr. Billy also rode on several of Windspur's fishing vessels, hoping Sahr would strike. But again, no such luck.

  Finally, the owners of Windspur's ships stopped hiring named sailors.

  The night the policy was announced, someone threw a burning brand through the front window of Amber's store. She doused the fire before it spread. In the morning she hammered wood across the broken window while her neighbors glared angrily at her. She was still cleaning up when Billy stopped by.

  "Are we having dinner tomorrow at your mother's house?” Amber asked. The previous week's Sunday dinner had been extremely awkward. The kindness Billy's mother had shown her was now gone, and Amber knew the attack on her store wouldn't help matters.

  "Perhaps we shouldn't,” Billy said. “I'd rather enjoy your company than spend our time fighting Mother. How about a picnic at the park?"

  Amber hugged Billy and spent all evening preparing food for the outing. But the next morning, Billy didn't show up. After waiting for several hours, Amber finally barged over to
Billy's house, figuring his mother was trying to turn him against her. Instead, she found the woman in tears.

  "He's gone,” Billy's mother said, holding a now-familiar glass-framed daguerreotype. “They took him, and it's all your fault."

  Amber snatched the picture from the mother's hand. It showed Amber hanging dead, the names burning her arms and neck. On the back were the words, ‘Waiting for you. David Sahr.'

  * * * *

  That afternoon, Amber talked with Mrs Andercoust. That night, Amber walked to a popular sailor's bar near the docks, which no proper lady would be caught dead inside. But Amber no longer cared what other people thought of her.

  When the sailors saw Amber, they glared in silence. Because the fishing fleet was at sea, these men were all named and no longer able to be hired. Among them sat Miles O'Shaughnessy.

  "I'm going to find Sahr,” Amber said. “Who's willing?"

  The sailors continued to glare at Amber. She wore work pants and a short sleeve shirt, their names clearly visible in cold-blue light along her arms and neck.

  "What are you talking about, Miss Tolester?” Miles asked. “No ship will have us, let alone carry the woman Sahr's angry at."

  "I have a ship. Mrs Andercoust gave me permission to take her late husband's trawler. And I'm not looking for volunteers. I'm paying for able bodied sailors."

  At the mention of pay, the sailors talked excitedly among themselves. Most had known and respected Captain Andercoust, and were impressed his widow would lend Amber his ship. Still, Miles O'Shaughnessy spoke for all of them when he asked Amber what she intended to do if she found Sahr.

  "I'm going to kill him."

  * * * *

  As Amber knew only too well, sailors were a superstitious lot. The thought of sailing with so many cursed men—and worse, with a woman—kept most of them off her ship. It didn't help that Amber had no sea experience. Still, she found eight willing men and hoped they'd be enough.

  She picked Miles O'Shaughnessy as her first mate, much to his surprise. The two of them then surveyed Mrs Andercoust's ship. Since her husband's death, the twin mast trawler had lain on a beach near the widow's house. The ship was covered in seagull droppings, badly needed a new coat of paint, and the tack had dry rotted away. Miles wrote up a list of needed supplies and repairs.

  "It's a long list,” he said. “Will the bank lend you this much?"

  "Doesn't matter. I'm selling my store."

  If Miles disapproved, he didn't let on.

  Amber and her sailors spent two weeks readying the Andercoust and stocking it with supplies. While Amber hated the delay, she knew sailing on an unsafe ship would risk the lives of her men. So she simply prayed Sahr wouldn't harm Billy before she reached him.

  The night before they set sail, Amber paced the ship's empty deck. Her heart pounded at the thought of actually going to sea. Did her mother feel this way when she'd tried to rescue Amber's father?

  Miles had suggested Amber give a speech to the men in the morning, something to inspire them and still their fear. However, as Amber tried to think of something to say, she realized Miles was wrong. The only words which mattered were the names on her body—and they only mattered in what she did with them.

  * * * *

  Morning broke to a fiery red sunrise, meaning a big storm blowing in. Because storms were unusual this time of year, Amber briefly wondered if the sea was trying to stop her mission. But when Miles suggested they delay their trip for a few days, Amber said they were leaving immediately. She held her arm up to his eyes and showed Miles his name. “If any of you are going to die, I'll know,” she said. “Trust me. I won't let it happen."

  Neither Miles nor the other sailors said a word as the Andercoust set sail.

  Once at sea, Miles piloted the trawler and Amber stood to the right of the wheel, tightly gripping the guardrail. The first rains broke across the bow by noon; by midafternoon, the winds neared gale strength. They passed a number of Windspur's ships racing for the safety of harbor. Miles asked Amber if they should return to port, but Amber told him to continue sailing toward deep water. She knew if any other captain had said those words, Miles would have likely ignored the command and turned for home. Instead, Miles glanced once at the fire-red names flowing around Amber's neck and nodded.

  By nightfall, the wind blew at gale strength and Miles ordered everyone to tie on their lifelines. Miles suggested Amber retire to her cabin, but she refused and continued to stand by the wheel.

  The storm raged for two days. Miles and the sailors worked nonstop to keep the boat afloat. At first Amber stood as before, her hands paste white as they gripped the railing. But as the storm's intensity grew, and the names of her sailors burned hotter and hotter on her body, her fear lessened. Around midnight, a massive wall of dark water appeared in front of the ship as two of the sailor's names flashed white hot on Amber's skin and burned through her rain coat. She ran to the men and shoved them to the other side of the ship. When the massive wave washed over the deck, an unseen piece of debris smashed the spot where the sailors had been standing. If the debris had hit them, they would have been lost. Instead, their white hot names merely faded to red.

  Amber returned to the wheel as more of the names burned hot. She ordered Miles to turn the ship in a new direction, which he did, then to raise and lower certain sails. He initially asked why they needed to do this, but after her first response—that if he didn't the men would die—Miles obeyed her orders without question.

  By the second day of the storm, the sailors eyed Amber as if Neptune himself was their captain. They both worshipped and feared her, immediately obeying when Amber told the sailors to secure certain tackle or to change course. They could see their names burning brightly on her skin; they smelled the smoke when their names burned through Amber's clothes.

  On the third day, the storm stopped. Amber leaned against the mizzen mast, exhausted, as Miles and the other sailors gathered around her. All of the sailors fell to their knees before her.

  "Miss Tolester,” Miles said. “If a week ago anyone had said this ship could survive a storm like that, I'd have knocked them cold for lying. I'll follow you anywhere, ma'am.” The other sailors nodded agreement, and brought Amber food and water, and unburned clothes, and carried her to her cabin to rest.

  And with that, Amber knew they were ready to find David Sahr.

  * * * *

  They sailed for days, zigzagging back and forth across the waters. Amber could feel David Sahr's cold-fire name tugging her forward, as if the name begged to reunite with its namesake.

  At the beginning of their second week at sea, the Andercoust sailed under a full-moon night. Amber slept in her cabin until waking with a start as Sahr's name burned red on her skin. She raced to the deck and stared across the dark sea. On the horizon she saw the briefest flicker of sails in the moonlight. “Ship to starboard,” she yelled. “It's Sahr."

  Miles cursed. Sahr's ship was bearing down on them with the wind to its back. “Do we run or meet him, Miss Tolester?” he asked. “He's got the weather gage."

  Amber wasn't sure. She'd never felt so many names burning red at once—not only Sahr's name, but also the names of Sahr's men and Amber's own crew. It was almost as if the sea wanted to sink their ships so it could claim them all. While she didn't care if Sahr and his men died, she wasn't going to risk her crew.

  "We run for now,” she said. “He's got the advantage."

  For the next twelve hours they ran, sailing downwind with as many sails as their ship could bear. However, the Andercoust was a fishing trawler and not made for speed, while Sahr's ship was the same small cutter he'd stolen from Windspur months ago. By the time dawn glowed on the horizon, Amber knew they couldn't outrun Sahr. She watched his ship through a scope. He had one fewer man than Amber, but they were all armed. She also saw Billy, who was tied to the mast and looked half-dead. With her body burning to the coming deaths, Amber broke open the box of rifles and pistols she'd purchased and handed them
to the crew. None needed reminding what they had to do. If it came to the worst, Miles was to ram Sahr's ship, taking them all to their deaths.

  However, when Sahr sailed near their ship, he waved a white flag.

  "A trade,” he yelled. “Billy boy for Miss Tolester."

  Miles protested, but Amber hissed him to silence. Until this moment, her skin had been nothing but pain at the coming deaths. Now, only the names of Sahr and his men burned. If she exchanged herself for Billy, Miles and the rest of her men would reach home safely.

  Without another word, Sahr and his men tied up alongside the Andercoust. They tossed Billy, unconscious and bound like a gutted fish, onto the fishing trawler's deck. Amber leaned over Billy—he still breathed. She kissed him, and assured Miles she'd be safe as she stepped onto Sahr's ship.

  When Sahr cut the ropes and sailed away from the Andercoust, Amber smiled at him.

  "I'm going to kill you,” she said.

  "Wouldn't have it any other way,” he said with a chuckle.

  * * * *

  Amber and David Sahr sailed west. At first the Andercoust followed, but when it became apparent Miles and his crew couldn't catch them the fishing trawler headed back toward Windspur.

  Sahr laughed as the Andercoust sailed out of sight. “I should have put them out of their misery. Not that I won't get another chance. After all, you've given them no choice but to die out here."

  "I didn't pick them to die,” Amber said, noticing Sahr's sailors were listening in. She was tempted to tell Sahr that if she chose sailors to die, she would have picked him and his crew. But since they were already named on her skin—and were also murderers—she felt it better not to raise this point. “The names simply appear."

  "You think so?” Sahr asked. He grabbed Amber by the arm and dragged her across the deck to a tall, middle-aged sailor. Amber dimly remembered the man from her childhood; he'd been one of the endless itinerant sailors who'd passed by her parents’ shop each morning. “This is Angus McPhee. Once you named him, he couldn't find work as an honest sailor. At least, not until I taught him to forget the ‘honest’ part."