A police officer said, “According to the laws of the Unified Mainland you, Nomadic Water Dweller, will be escorted directly to the closest camp for Organization and Resettlement. The paddleboard will be impounded.”
Luna said, “You can’t do that, it belongs to me! You can’t take my things!” She struggled to get out of their grip. One of the police officers laughed.
Luna begged, “Please don’t take it.”
Beckett listened to Luna’s pleading and closed his eyes to try to block all the pain.
Dan whispered, “Stay calm, we’ll get this figured out,” and rose again to go to Luna’s side. She was still crying, asking where they were taking her paddleboard and trying to grab hold of it as two officers carried it down the dock to their boat.
Beckett wondered if he was forgotten until another knee dropped to his back, knocking out his breath, and causing his brain to panic with lack of air. The person attached to that heavy knee yanked Beckett’s wallet from his back pocket. From the corner of his eyes Beckett saw his driver’s license and his Army ID passed from officer to officer. Then there was quiet. Luna was sniffling. Beckett was held tightly.
Dan asked, “What’s happening now, can you release my guy?”
Capstone said, “They’re calling in his ID.”
Crap. Beckett closed his eyes.
A minute later police boots thundered down the dock. Fast. “Beckett Stanford, you are under arrest for Refusal to Report, Misconduct, and Felony Desertion during Time of Rising Waters.”
The pressure on his back increased, pushing him down, shoving his chest and chin into the wood. Capstone’s voice said, “Well, well, looks like you’re going to jail for a long, long time.”
The other officer said, “Not jail, he’ll be headed East, to the front. Worse than jail.” His voice sounded gleeful.
Luna whimpered, “Beckett?”
He said, “I’m sorry, Luna, I’m so sorry.” His cheek was sanded deep in the wood grain.
Police officers jerked him by the arms to a standing position.
He could see everyone now, his face damp with blood, his sight red-stained — Luna across the dock, arms bound, held by two police officers. The rest of the crew watching over the railing. Dan beside Luna, said, “Beckett, we’ll come up with something.”
The two officers yanked Beckett by the arms so fast he stumbled as he was pulled past Luna.
He caught her eyes, “I’m sorry. I’m coming for you, don’t worry, please don’t worry. It’s going to be okay, stay safe.” He was pulled down the dock and away.
Chapter 33
Luna watched Beckett being led down the dock to the boat. “Where are you taking him?”
“Jail. First, we whooped his ass, now we’re taking him to jail.”
The other officer laughed, “Did you see that gush of blood? That was an epic ass beating.” Luna struggled to get free and the officer yanked her to a standstill. “Don’t ask for trouble, Nomad, because your ass isn’t worth it.”
They all laughed.
Dan interrupted, his jaw clenched, “May I speak to the Nomad for a moment?”
An officer sized him up. “Yeah, whatever.” He gripped her bound arms tighter.
“I never asked, but um,” Dan felt his pockets, and found them empty. “I need your surname, so we can find you in the camps.”
Luna said, her voice panicked, “Is he going to be okay? Dan, what’s happening — is Beckett okay?”
Dan glanced down the dock toward the police boat as Beckett was shoved on board. “I don’t know Luna, but he’ll be worse if he can’t find you.” The officer holding her arms grumbled and yanked her arms. Dan said, “I need your full name.”
“Um, Luna Saturniidae.”
Dan kept patting around his pockets, he called up to the boat. “Sarah, write down—”
The officer growled, “We don’t have time for this.” He forced Luna down the dock.
Dan hurried to keep up. “I’m worried about the spelling, use Stanford, okay? Beckett’s last name, Luna Stanford. That way—”
Over her shoulder she said, “Yes, yes. Luna Stanford. Dan, you’ll find him, please find him?
The policeman gruffly said. “That’s enough.”
Dan said, “It’s not enough, I need her details, so I can—”
“She’s Nomad, what do you care? And you better shut up unless you want to go to jail with your deserter friend.”
Dan called after her. “When’s your birthday?”
Luna craned her neck to look back. “I think it was two-and-a-half weeks ago?”
“So, the fifteenth?”
The policeman to Luna’s left shoved her and caused her to stumble. He said, “You know, I’m getting tired of this.”
Dan ignored him. “August 15th?”
“Yes,” Luna said, “And I’m 19 years old.”
Dan called after Luna, “Okay, Luna Stanford, born nineteen years ago on August 15.”
She was long down the dock now, calling back over her shoulder. “Do you know where they’re taking me?”
“Nope, but it’s okay, we’re coming to get you.”
_________________
The police pushed her onto the deck of a boat. Beckett was sitting there, on a bench, leaned forward, hands cuffed behind his back, blood on his face. She asked, “Beckett, where are they taking—”
An officer shoved her down steep steps. Beckett yelled, “Luna!” as she disappeared into the lower interior deck of the boat.
It was windowless and dark. An officer shoved her into a seat, didn’t turn on the lights, growled, “Stay here,” and slammed the door. The room was thrown into pitch blackness. A clicking noise told her the door had been locked. And then nothing. Complete nothingness.
It was so black that her breathing echoed in her ears, so loud that she started to panic. Where was she? Where was she going? Was Beckett okay? She dropped her forehead to the table and wrapped her arms around her head, the cuffs binding her wrists were tight, sharp, cutting.
Faint voices came from above, barely distinguishable. She desperately tried to Go Bird.
Chapter 34
Beckett’s eyes were wild — looking everywhere, trying to make sense of the situation — what his next move should be. Where was Luna? There were five armed men between Beckett and any place she might be. He’d never find her if fighting armed men was step one. “Where are you taking her?”
A gruff voice said, “Wherever we want, and it’s none of your business.”
He said, “It is my business, that’s my wife.”
The officers started laughing like it was all some big joke. One said, “Well you’re not big on the decision making, huh? Marrying a Nomad — you could probably fuck her without going to all the trouble. Dumbass.”
Beckett’s ears turned red. He wanted to kill the guy. “She’s my wife — legally you have to tell me where you’re taking her.”
The guy rounded on Beckett, “Oh I do, do I? You got proof that your deserting-ass married that piece of trash Nomad, or am I supposed to accept your honest word?”
Beckett’s jaw clenched and unclenched.
The policeman said, “Yeah, you know what, I’m tired of talking to you so you better shut up.”
The boat sped south across the bay. The wind had come up, the water churned, the boat dipped and hopped at breakneck speed. Beckett shut his eyes against the wind. He felt green again, not at all like the kind of guy who could get all heroic, fight a bunch of policemen, rescue a girl, and somehow get to shore. So he sat there with his eyes closed trying to think of a plan but instead thinking about the real probability that he would throw up. Possibly pass out.
After about twenty minutes, the boat pulled to a dock where two more police officers were waiting. Beckett’s best guess was that now they numbered about seven. The odds of Beckett’s heroic rescue were getting worse and worse. “Cargo?”
“Yep, army deserter.” An officer yanked Beckett to standing, shoved h
im up a ladder and onto the dock.
Beckett asked, “What about the girl? Come on, let me see her, okay? Just a quick—”
One of the officers on the dock asked, “What happened? He got walloped by a board?”
Officer Capstone said, “Resisting arrest. Also he was like that when we found him.”
Everyone but Beckett chuckled.
Beckett was shoved and yanked as he was passed from the boat to the dock. He stumbled trying to stand where they wanted, but not doing it quick enough, or smart enough, or possibly short enough, or something. He was taller than everyone there, but the officers made up for the height difference with pure animosity.
Beckett said, “I need one minute to speak to my wife—”
Capstone sneered, “He thinks calling her his wife will make all the rest of us keep our hands off the cheap piece of ocean-paddling ass. But he’s not taking into account how hot she is.” He laughed heartily as they returned to the boat.
Beckett asked the new officers holding his arms, “What are they going to do to her?”
They force marched him up the dock toward shore. “Nothing, they aren’t going to do nothing, because no matter how much they want to make your ass crazy, they aren’t going to risk their jobs for a good-for-nothing Nomad girl.”
The other said, “You should be worried about where they’re taking her.”
Beckett asked, “Where are they taking her?”
“The camps, where she belongs.”
Chapter 35
Beckett was roughly dragged into the crowded, stuffy, loud, Heighton Port police station, where he was unceremoniously booked by a gruff man who seemed irritated by Beckett’s wounded face. As if Beckett had beaten himself on purpose to make everyone uncomfortable. Beckett asked, “What, is my black eye bothering you? The blood on my shirt? That was Officer Capstone. Are you writing it down on my booking papers? Taking note?”
Apparently the gruff man didn’t plan to take note.
He was shoved into a jail cell crowded with twelve other inmates. No one talked, they glowered. They glared. He glared back. Or slumped his head against the wall and tried for inconspicuous. Rebounding between furious, want-to-pace-the-room anger, and defeated, want-to-curl-up, fear. Crap, and this morning had seemed so promising.
Chapter 36
He spent the night on a cot made of hard plastic. It was two inches too short. No pillow, a really small blanket. The blanket was fine though because the air was insanely hot. A sweaty, stinky, gross, crowded jail. Beckett hoped the judicial department had fans or else the judges would be total pissed off, sitting on their sweat-covered asses.
The following day, at three o’clock, he was forced to change into a beige, thick, scratchy, questionably clean jumpsuit, then led into a room where Dan was sitting at a table. Beckett dropped into the chair opposite. “Man, I wish you didn’t have to see me like this, all criminal like this . . .”
Dan looked at him piercingly. “How ya holding up, Army?”
“Not well. Clearly I’m in some deep shit.”
Dan bit his lips, “Yeah, I don’t know anyone who deserted that didn’t go away for a long, long time.”
“I was close to done too. Half a year — because I was such a model soldier.”
“That sucks. You could have told us.”
“Nothing you could have done. The moment I walked onto that ship I became a deserter.”
Dan grinned, “One more reason why you should have gone Navy. I’ve never been on a boat where I wasn’t exactly where I was supposed to be.” His expression turned back to serious. “The reason I wasn’t here earlier is I’ve been searching for Luna.”
Beckett leaned forward anxiously. “You have? Did you find her?”
“No, not yet.”
Beckett ran his hands down his face.
Dan said, “But I will, I’m told it will take between 12-72 hours to get her booked in the system. And then — so I’ll keep checking, every few hours, me or Sarah, we’ll make them look for her again. Until — but I have to tell you, everyone I’ve talked to so far has a piss-poor attitude. These are some generally shitty people. You need to get yourself out and get her out, pronto. Luna isn’t going to last long there.”
Beckett nodded. “True that, but they haven’t even offered me a call yet. Will you call my aunt, tell her I need a lawyer?”
Dan wrote down the number and tucked it into his wallet, then stood up. “All right, I’ll see you tomorrow Beckett.”
“You don’t have to, I’m sure you’ve got things to do. . .”
“I’m Navy, stuck on shore leave, which is almost as ridiculous as Army deserting to the sea. I’m useless. Your hopeless cause is giving me something to do besides washing aquariums for Sarah. I hate washing aquariums. The only good part about washing aquariums is the water hose.”
Beckett nodded. “Thanks man.”
“Besides you’re like the little brother I never had.”
Beckett chuckled.
Dan said, “But then again, I do like Luna a lot more. She’s like the little sister I never had, which would make you more like my brother-in-law. Yeah, that seems kind of fitting, that way I can roll my eyes whenever I talk about the army guy that’s in jail and in love with my little sis.” Dan grinned and left.
And Beckett was shoved back to his cell.
Chapter 37
Luna was delivered to the northernmost docks by the leering, disgusting, stiff-neck, jerk policemen. The worst thing that had happened was one grabbed her ass, pulled her close, scared the breath out of her. But she was grateful nothing worse had happened. Grateful and pissed that she needed to be grateful. Furious that they had scared her like that.
It was as if she was under arrest, but all she had done was come ashore. And the way they beat Beckett. She wanted to kill them. She needed to know if he was okay.
A dumpy woman in a uniform with a badge that said, “Sue James, Guard,” led her by her elbow down the docks and shoved her into the open maw of a cavernous warehouse. Luna was told to stand in line behind eight other Waterfolk women. The woman directly in front of Luna had long dark hair and was older, older than Luna’s mother had been when she —
Luna whispered, “Do you understand what’s happening?”
One of the guards shushed Luna aggressively. The woman answered with a quick shake of her head.
So she quieted. Three scowling female guards called the first woman forward. They made her undress and then they sprayed her with a hose and scrubbed her body with brushes. She cried. Luna tried hard not to watch, but by the end, the anguish of the woman being bathed, the fear of the other women in line, it was all too much — tears rolled down Luna’s face and the lump in her throat wouldn’t swallow down.
She wanted to do something brave, like shove everyone aside, and make a break for it, but she had nothing — no money, no food, not even an idea where she was. And maybe she would be in worse trouble if she attempted to run and got caught.
And why she was in trouble? None of this made sense.
_________________
After she was showered, a surly woman shoved what looked like a pillowcase into her arms. Luna unfolded it to see something that was a cross between a robe and a dress. Velcro cinched the waist. She put it on, ran her fingers through her hair, and shuffled to the opposite end of the warehouse where the other women, all dressed in the same sack dresses, waited by a door. Her fear rose. She needed someone to comfort her, maybe a smile or a kind word, but all the other women looked so frightened they wouldn’t meet her eyes.
A few minutes later a guard gestured with a grunt that they should follow him through a tented tunnel, across a parking lot, to, finally, a chain-link fenced area. The fence was at least ten feet tall. It had barbed wire curled around on top. The enclosure like a pen. A big pen. For animals. Luna’s stomach lurched. A woman said, “What the hell is this place?”
Hundreds of Waterfolk gathered near the door as the guard stuck a key into the
padlock and yanked at it with irritation.. One man asked, “When are our administration hearings? When will our lawyers arrive?” More voices rose, asking the same questions, pushing forward to the door, scaring Luna, making her want to duck down and refuse to go in, but she was given no choice. She was shoved from behind, holding her arms like a shield, and forced into the clamoring crowd.
Behind her the guard grunted, “I told you yesterday, the paperwork is coming when it’s ready.” The door slammed, the lock clicked, and the guard stomped away.
A man yelled toward his back, “That was what you said yesterday; I demand you tell me when our date of release will be!”
The guard raised his hand dismissively and continued walking.
The crowd around the door dispersed and Luna was left standing alone. Inside a locked pen. Sure she was surrounded by fellow Waterfolk, but these weren’t the Waterfolk of the high seas, these were Former Waterfolk, lost, landed, dry, beaten down, and depressed. They weren’t happy to see her or welcoming or even seeming to notice she was there.
Worst part? She was still standing on the cement of the parking lot, but a foot further, most of the pen, it was all mud.
What had been the purpose of that humiliating shower to go into a pen with a mud floor? Luna was shocked. Horrified. And where was Beckett — where was anyone who could help her?
Chapter 38
The next day Beckett had another visit from Dan.
“I found her. She’s at the camps.”
“Oh, thank god.” Beckett dropped his head to his hands. “Jeez, man, okay what do we—”
“There’s a problem though. Sarah and I can’t get past the nimrod at the front desk. He’s a total tool — shuffled through paperwork, finally admitted she was there — she was logged in this morning. But then informed me that the camp is off limits to visitors. Can you believe it? I was thinking I could sneak through, but Sarah is worried I’d get Luna in trouble, you know?”
Under (Luna's Story Book 2) Page 8
