The Deep

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The Deep Page 14

by Jen Minkman


  Walt smiles. “I think I’ll give it a try.”

  “Try what?”

  “Build a public library. Like the library we visited yesterday. And build a mighty fleet of ships so people can sail to the Other Side as often as they want.”

  This is why I like Walt so much. He may be overconfident and arrogant sometimes, but he doesn’t shy away from new things. He’s not afraid to broaden his horizon.

  “That means you’ll be the first Bookkeeper who won’t keep the books away from the people,” I say seriously.

  “Amen,” William supplies, using a word we learned in Dartmoor to validate previously-uttered words. The three of us laugh, and it feels good to make new plans for our own world instead of being afraid to break the rules of the strange society we’ve encountered.

  Some twenty odd miles before we get to Bodmin, Tony pulls over and parks the bus along the roadside for a short break. It’s no coincidence he has picked a spot looking out over a beautiful, lush forest, which doesn’t seem to have been affected by sickness or radiation.

  “This place used to be called Upton Wood,” he tells us. “It also happens to be the border of Bodmin County. You see we’re getting close to another region where life is still possible.”

  “Where’s the fence?” Padma wants to know.

  “There is no fence.” Tony smiles. “We do have some low stone walls to keep the cattle in, but we don’t have barriers for humans.” He nervously glances aside when two men approach us. “I’ll tell you more about it later.”

  I’m surprised to find out that I don’t know the two men at all. Were they hiding in the back of the bus?

  “Excuse me – who are you?” I inquire.

  They smile broadly. “We are delegates of the Dartmoor government. Technicians. We are going to work on the radio in the harbor, so we can stay in touch with ships of visitors who may decide to visit us,” the oldest of the two explains.

  “Thank you very much,” Walt says. “The people of Tresco will be indebted.”

  While Tony and William strike up a conversation with the two repair men, I tug at Walt’s arm. “You want to take a little stroll with me?” I ask. “It’s so beautiful here. This forest reminds me of the woods around the manor.”

  “Sure, why not?” He looks around with a beaming face as we follow the dirt track leading into the forest. “It’s wonderful to see there is still so much nature here. And isn’t it amazing that Bodmin doesn’t have a fence? A strict barrier like in Dartmoor will only keep people from getting to know each other better.”

  “Well, no Wall has been able to stop us,” I say, blushing when Walt cocks a playful eyebrow.

  “I thought last night was amazing,” he says. “Are you – happy that I spent the night?”

  “Yes.” I squeeze his hand.

  We silently continue down the path until we stumble onto a small forest pond, ringed by pine trees. At the water’s edge, Walt stops walking and lifts my hand to his lips to kiss my fingers.

  “Look, I don’t know how your people do everything,” he starts, “but – I’d like you to belong to me. Like Yorrick belonged to Alisa. Like my parents belonged to each other a long time ago.”

  My heart skips a beat as my eyes find his. “And how does that work with you in Hope Harbor?” I whisper.

  “You know.” He draws me in. “We do stuff together. Swim in the sea. Watch plays in the square. Dance during holidays and festivities. We talk. And if we can do that without being at each other’s throats all the time, we stick together.”

  I smile. “You do realize that according to Newexter customs, we’d already be married after last night,” I tease him. I can’t help myself.

  Walt visibly pales. “Oh! Uhm – well, you could have told me,” he grumbles, slightly panicked.

  I burst out laughing. “I know you didn’t mean it like that,” I reassure him. “You like me. I like you. And I hope we’ll always like each other this much.”

  He caresses my hair and softly kisses my lips. “Yeah, me too.”

  Before he can deepen the kiss, I’m distracted by a rustling sound in the undergrowth. Walt doesn’t seem to notice, but he’s not trained to look out for wild animals and forest sounds. It’s not an animal that’s coming toward us making its way through the bushes, though – it’s a person. Two people, I determine after listening for a few more seconds.

  “We have visitors,” I warn him with a cheeky grin. “I’m just saying, before you start doing really naughty stuff.”

  Walt chuckles.

  When we turn around, the two technicians from Dartmoor are behind us, both quiet. Although their smiles are friendly enough, the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. These men are not here on a casual stroll through the woods. Their eyes tell me they were looking for us, and now they have found us.

  “Good afternoon,” Walt says, sounding uncomfortable. He can feel it too – a sort of quiet threat.

  “We have got orders to take you back to Dartmoor,” the youngest one says, a skinny man with a face that reminds me of a rat. He pats a black device dangling from his belt. A radio?

  “What – why?” I stutter. Is this about the golden crucifix I took from Exeter? I wish I’d never given the stupid thing away in a surge of guilt.

  “We’ll tell you on our way back,” his friend says in a calm tone.

  “And what if we don’t want to come?” Walt replies, raising his voice. He blocks the two men from coming any closer to me. “We’re on our way home. If the president wants to speak to us, he’ll have to wait until we pay him a visit again.”

  I edge away when they both get the familiar needles from their pockets. “We’d rather not sedate you,” the rat face says. “But we’ll do whatever’s necessary. If you follow us without resisting, we’ll put these away. There’s a van waiting for us at the end of this path.”

  He hasn’t even finished speaking the last word before Walt plants a fist into the man’s stomach, making him double over. “Run!” he yells at me. “Leia, go back to the bus!”

  “No! I’m not leaving you,” I sputter, trying to fend off the older man with trembling hands. Walt turns around and reaches out to grab the man’s upper arm when the other Dartmoorer who is face down in the mud suddenly seizes his ankle. He pulls and Walt tumbles down.

  And then, the entire world fades to black. I can just make out the needle slipping into my upper arm before the light goes out.

  Tresco

  19 – Alisa

  “Yes. It’s him.”

  The three of us are standing around a wooden chest containing a body. Bram has just confirmed what the Eldest already suspected.

  The body that washed up on the beach next to the tiny harbor is Finn’s. We’ll never know what exactly happened, but judging from the state his body is in, he’s been in the water for a few days at least. When Bram told Saul his brother was missing, he might have been dead already. Drowned.

  Was it possible he walked into the sea himself?

  Nathan lets out a deep sigh. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again. What is he supposed to say about his only son’s killer? Finn has carried out his own death sentence.

  “Do you want us to give him a final resting place in the graveyard?” the Eldest asks Bram.

  Bram shakes his head. With empty eyes, he stares at his younger brother. How old had Finn been – about forty? The same age as my parents, I suspect.

  “I will build my own barge,” he says, his voice cracked and crumbling. “He always wanted a simple ceremony. Beneath the cold ground he’ll never be free.”

  The Bookkeeper nods curtly. “I want you to leave Tresco. As soon as possible. As soon as the Explorer comes back and we have the chance to sail out again, you’ll be on that ship,” he says.

  “Okay,” Bram simply replies. The Bookkeeper won’t get an argument from this man – he can hardly look the leader of Hope Harbor in the eye.

  The Eldest takes a step back. “We will leave you for now.” He
ushers us out of the room in the village hall where his assistants have laid out Finn’s body. With a solemn face, he looks at us both. “When do you think the Explorer will be back?”

  “I have no idea.” Nathan looks around the square absently. “It was just supposed to be a scouting mission, so hopefully in a few days. I could use some good news by now.”

  “You’ll be happy to hear that an extra team of youth workers has started work on building a second ship. They’re following your shipbuilders’ instructions to the letter, so we’ll be able to finish two ships instead of one at the same time.”

  Nathan’s face lights up. “That is good news indeed. How big are they? What’s their passenger capacity?”

  “About two hundred people per vessel, I estimate. They’re enormous.” The Eldest smiles. “Why don’t you come and have a look? You’re here now anyway, and you won’t be taking Finn back for trial, so you might as well see the work instead of reading about it in those newsletters. I bet Terry’s eager to show you what they’ve been up to.”

  The Bookkeeper nods. “Will you join me?” he asks me.

  I shake my head. “No, I’m going to see Saul. He needs to know what happened to. Finn and Bram were his neighbors.”

  “Of course. You go and see your friend.”

  With a start, I realize that’s what Saul is – a friend. A person I can be myself with, although I don’t always feel at ease with him when he’s in one of his black moods. He’s so different from Walt. So different from Yorrick. But despite all that, he is a person I have learned to trust.

  During my ride to the clearing, dark clouds drift in over the island. The air is hot and muggy. I’ve been expecting a thunderstorm to erupt for hours now, but right now I’m hoping it’ll stay dry for a little while longer. I want to be outside, maybe venture out into the woods to try and shoot a pheasant. Yesterday Saul taught me how to handle a bow and arrows, and I turned out to be so talented that I’m itching to give it another try.

  No one is there at the clearing. Maybe Saul has already left on a hunt. In that case, I’d better wait here and leave him alone. Last time I followed Saul into the woods, he kept telling me I was too noisy when I walked. “You’re scaring away our dinner,” he’d told me with a smirk, when I’d managed to scare away an entire colony of rabbits for the third time.

  When he finally returns home, I have put my time to good use by putting on a kettle to make tea. Saul has evidently been on a hunt, because he’s clutching two dead rabbits in his hands. Or maybe they ran into one of his traps. He’s not carrying a weapon.

  His eyes scan me inquisitively. “What’s wrong?” he says. Apparently he can tell that I’m upset.

  “Finn is dead.”

  Saul puts the rabbits down on the table where two steaming mugs of tea are waiting. “How?”

  “He drowned,” I whisper.

  I know Saul is afraid of water. It took both of his parents. Yet, he dove into the sea past the surf to get my shawl without hesitation.

  “He walked into the sea just like that?” He stands beside me and picks up one of the mugs. “Good. That means he solved his own problem.”

  “I guess.” His cold, harsh words make me flinch. Finn and he have been neighbors for quite some time, after all. “And Bram won’t be back either, I think. The Bookkeeper told him to get off the island.”

  “What, like right now?”

  “No, that’s impossible. But he’s expected to sail out with the next available ship going to the Other Side.”

  Saul nods briefly. “Well. You want to help me skin those rabbits?” His mouth curls up in a teasing grin when I bite my lip. Though I love hunting, I’m not a big fan of the inevitable work afterwards. Saul knows exactly which chores I hate.

  “I can get some fresh carrots from the garden,” I hastily suggest.

  “You go and do that,” he says amusedly.

  Saul’s garden is overflowing with ripe vegetables, so I decide to pick some spinach too. As I dump some leaves into the basket I brought along, I’m softly humming a wistful tune. It makes me realize I feel at home here way too much. It’s as if Saul is a part of my family. He’s like the brother I never had. No, not like a brother. I know I don’t really believe that, but I push the truth I can’t accept far away.

  “You got another knife?” I ask when I’m back at the table. “I need to scrape off the carrots.”

  Saul glances up. “In the cabin,” he replies. “In that chest under my bed. They’re a bit blunter than this one.”

  We prepare our meal in silence. Saul gets a bigger cauldron from Bram’s hut – the priest won’t be needing it anymore, he says – so we can make a lot of stew at once. He hands me a basket of potatoes and pours the two of us another round of tea.

  I watch him as he rinses the rabbit blood off his hands in the bucket on the table. A strange feeling of confusion nestles in my stomach. Why does this guy fascinate me so much? Is it because he has managed to heal me despite his own wounds? Is it because he terrifies me but shows me his soft side every now and then? I honestly don’t know. He calls to me like the light in the watchtowers used to try to draw in the Fleet that never showed – the glow is alluring, but I won’t come closer than this.

  When Saul suddenly turns his head and locks eyes with me, I stare at him as if frozen. The ghost of a smile dances around his lips.

  “Sorry,” I mumble, flustered. My knees feel weak.

  “For what?” he asks.

  “I didn’t mean to gawk at you.”

  “So why did you?” he comments shrewdly.

  I glare at him. “Because you… I don’t know, actually.”

  Saul doesn’t respond, but I can’t help noticing he’s slowly inching closer. “You stare at me a lot,” he continues calmly, as though the observation isn’t embarrassing at all. “You do it when you think I can’t see.”

  “No, I don’t.” I’m lying, and I can’t lie without blushing, so I stare doggedly at my feet.

  He slowly breathes in and out. “Look at me.”

  Gingerly, I raise my head.

  “Do I remind you of him?” he says, so quietly that I almost can’t make out the words.

  “Who?” My voice is too hoarse. He knows that I know fully well who he’s talking about.

  Saul takes another step forward and stands there, his face just a few inches away from me. “Yorrick,” he mumbles.

  My cheeks burn. “No. Absolutely not. You don’t even look like him.”

  He nods, a tired smile tugging at his mouth. “Maybe that’s a blessing.”

  I blink dazedly. “W-why?” I stutter.

  Saul leans into me. “You would have felt guilty otherwise,” he whispers. His warm hand softly caresses my cheek before he captures my mouth with his.

  My heart skips a beat. Even though I saw it coming, it still takes my breath away with surprise. And fear. And happiness. I don’t push him away when he loops his arms around my waist and deepens the kiss. Instead, I respond to his kiss with fire on my lips, and my body shivers with desire when I hear him moan softly, his breathing speeding up. Holy Annabelle, this is a bad idea. A very bad idea.

  The carrot knife clatters down on the table as my fingers trail down his spine. His lips open mine and I can’t help myself – I melt away in his arms.

  When I finally break away from the kiss, Saul looks at me from up close, his hand tenderly stroking my arm.

  “You make me feel like I could be good,” he whispers.

  His words move me deeply. “But you can,” I say hotly.

  He emits a bitter laugh. “No, not really.”

  “That’s what you said about Ben. And he started a new life, too.”

  Saul pulls me into a warm embrace, his mouth against my forehead. “You give me hope. Beautiful girl from Hope Harbor,” he says at last.

  I feel myself blush. “I’m not that beautiful. I bet you had prettier girls in that manor of yours. Different girl every night.” A hint of jealousy stabs at my heart
.

  He sighs deeply. “Yes, but that was different.”

  “Why?”

  “That wasn’t friendship. It was just sex.”

  His vulgar words make me self-conscious. “I don’t do that sort of thing if I’m not in love,” I mutter.

  “I know.” Saul strokes my hair. “You’re a good person, Alisa. I get it if you just want to stay friends. Or maybe not even friends.”

  I gaze up, straight into his dark, self-doubting eyes. “I think we’re more than just friends.”

  “Yeah.” He looks serious. “Me too.”

  I want to tell him what else I think – that this is not a good idea. That it will only lead to heartache. But the words blow away in the wind coming in from the sea to whisper over the clearing. If I’d been serious about keeping my distance, I would have had to step away from Saul a long time ago. “I’m scared,” I say instead.

  “Me too,” he admits without blinking.

  “Of what?” I stare at him in surprise. Saul doesn’t strike me as the type to scare easily.

  “Of losing this. Like I partly lost Ben. He was the only person I ever cared about.”

  I slowly snake my arms around his waist and press a kiss to his cheek. “Maybe we should just take it day by day. You won’t lose me that quickly. I’m Ben’s messenger, remember? I come here every day.”

  Saul suddenly chuckles. “Yeah, Ben made sure of that.”

  “Huh?” I blink my eyes.

  He dips his head and mumbles against my mouth: “I asked him to write me back every day, Alisa. Because I knew you’d bring me his letters. Ben isn’t such a chatterbox by nature, you know.”

  “What the…” I stare at him indignantly. “You mean you weren’t looking forward to hearing from Ben at all?”

  He cocks an eyebrow. “Of course I was. I know Ben wanted to keep his distance, but he’s always so willing to be helpful to me. This way, I got mail from him every day and I got to see you as a bonus. Two birds with one stone, is what we call it over here.”

  My jaw drops. “You are way too good at manipulating people, you know that?”

 

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