by Fore, Jon
"Oh, it had boring parts. Sitting out on the Atlantic with four strangers and Bernie could get more than boring, you know. It could get so frustrating you want to start tossing spoiled teenagers or their whiney fathers overboard. It’s really not what I had in mind when I did this. Still, I don't regret, much, you know?” His face split into a grin, "There was this one time, this girl, she brought her best friends on a cross-Atlantic trip, paid their way and all. They had just completed their freshmen year at F.S.U., right? And these girls, they were gorgeous. All four of them. Me and Bernie had a hard time handling the boat with those four walking around in their string bikinis and laughing and drinking...” He seemed to float off in his memories for a moment, "Well, that only happened that one time, you know? That was fun."
Vega discovered she was smiling at his story. She was too adult now to be affronted by anyone swayed by the sexuality of another. It was why God made men and women so different. It was supposed to be that way.
As if he was reading her mind, he turned toward her and blushed deeply in a little boy way, "I'm sorry. That was in poor taste. Anyway, you and that other girl, what was her name? Mary?"
"Maria.” Vega said, bracing herself for a complement. Hell, if he hadn't telegraphed it so hard.
"Yeah, you're the first good looking girls to be on this boat in coming on two years now, you know? The rest, hairy bulging guts, not the hanging down over the belt kind, those hard beach ball guts only old men can make. Them and their spoiled boys. Whining and complaining about every little damn thing. I end up doing most of the work anyway."
"Vega, by the way.” She took a long sip of her own wine and realized the lack of food and sleep was bringing the red potion right to her head.
"Sorry?"
"It's Vega, my name."
"I know," He lied. "How could you forget such a unique name like that? It's a star, you know."
"Yes, I do."
"Well, it’s a good name. I like it a lot.” He put the glass down and felt his way to a berry.
"Why don't I take over while you eat?” Vega said.
"Yeah, that would be nice. I'm used to standing at the helm when I eat, you know. It would be a nice change of pace."
Vega took the wheel as he stepped back and began watching the water ahead, along with the compass in her periphery. Vega realized if she stared just above the edge of the pointy part, right where the flag pole or whatever it was called was attached to the railing, she could watch the water, and keep the heading at the same time. Not that she could see very far in the smothering blackness, but it was what William told her she was supposed to do.
He sat quietly for a long while, seemingly to enjoy the cheese, berries and wine. What she didn't know was he held a near laser like stare at her bottom, watching how it filled the utility uniform pants she wore, how her hips bloomed out in that upside down heart shape. William had known a lot of women, but it had been a long while now. Two years or something close to that, and his urge was becoming something to wrestle with.
Now that Spanish girl, she was a hot number for sure, but there was no way he was going to take on that gorilla-man. Not yet, anyway. But this one, this heart-shaped-ass-wearing, more mature type was still young and strong and healthy. Her skin was a perfect depiction of milk, her hair a curly fire burning across her head. In the age of the apocalypse, it was the strong that survived. They took what they wanted, and that was all there was too it. Not that he had waited for this... opportunity, but he was damn sure not going to waste it.
He knew of an island, down near the equator with beautiful beaches, plenty of fruit trees, and more than one herd of boar. It was dislocated and unnamed and uninhabited and his for the claiming. At least in this new world. In the age of the Apocalypse, you had to take what you wanted, and no one could stop you. And he wanted Vega. Maria too if he could swing it.
Chapter 18
Maria and Jackson appeared some seven hours later. They looked both rested and somehow satiated at the same time. It was obvious to Vega that they had finally had at each other, which was good. It seemed they were holding out far too long, and then Vega remembered she had known them for what, two and a half days now? It seemed like a lifetime. Vega supposed it was the lack of a private emotional life.
When they came topside, they began their training on the helm with William. Maria had some difficulty considering the lack of electricity had disabled the power assist on the helm, but she was stronger than her size let on; much stronger. Jackson, on the other hand, had trouble not over-steering. The stiffness in the rudder yielded almost too easily to him, and he had to take baby-steps, as his mother would have said. With Maria there, she tended his gentle side, and he lent her his strength, and after some time, they were manning the helm together, whispering and giggling like the new lovers they were.
William went down to the galley to throw together some breakfast while Vega went to her cabin for some shut-eye. The gentle rolling of the boat along with the lack of rest had her oblivious in a short moment. She slept like this for hours.
* * *
Vega woke to a calm gentle rolling of her bed, and it took a few moments before she remembered where she was. On a boat, on black water, under a black sky, and piloted by a kind stranger. A stranger with a secret.
The bed was small, but Vega was not a wide sleeper. She tended to curl herself up into a small package and tuck inside the covers. When she stretched her full length, her scalp made contact with the box that held the mattress, and her heels rested on the opposite lip. How the hell Jackson fit into a bed like this, she couldn't imagine, but he had. In fact, he and Maria had, in the same bed no less. Then Vega remembered they had a double bed, and perhaps it was longer than hers. Maybe it was more like a bunk bed. Probably a place the ship’s crew slept, and not a paying passenger. Vega hoped it wasn't a bunk bed.
Vega climbed to her feet wearing only panties. She wasn't one to sleep in the nude, but she didn't have any of her big sports jerseys to sleep in. They were back at Gertrude's apartment. It would have been more comfortable to have covered her chest, not for modesty's sake, but for the amulet embedded there. She could see some of it by looking down, but only the bottom edge of the gold circlet and part of the emerald's base. From what she could see, the wound it made was entirely healed, which surprised her. Then she remembered it implanted itself, and the surprise drained quickly. Why wouldn't it be healed at this point?
After wrapping herself in a full length bath towel, she took her small toiletries bag and unlocked her berthing's door. She looked down the short passage to see William at the galley table, alone, poring over some large papers. Across the passage was the bathroom, and it took her one step to reach it, and another to enter it. She locked this door as well.
It was a small bathroom, very small bathroom, and she had trouble turning around in the space. There was a narrow shower stall with a marbled glass door and a single shelf to hold soap and shampoo. The counter was little more than a supportive lip to the airplane like sink in the center. Attached to the side was a metal basket, which she wedged her toiletry bag into, then withdrew her soap and shampoo.
After a shower, she brushed her teeth vigorously, not wanting to develop a cavity now that they were out to sea. She took out her shaving cream and razor, and after bouncing her butt off the wall a couple of times, was able to get her leg up on the edge of the sink for a good thorough shaving. She repeated the process for the other leg, then brushed her hair out and fixed it to the back with a tight rubber band. After wrapping herself in the towel, she packed and scooted back across the passage and into her room. She heard William call 'Good Morning,' but felt odd answering as naked as she was. Again, not for modesty's sake, but for the complete feeling of vulnerability.
Vega decided to go with fatigues again, and the same boots as yesterday. Once she was dressed, as well as armed, she felt much more confident. Stepping out of her berthing, she closed the door behind her, and William greeted her again.
/> "Morning.” She said, trying to sound bright. She felt great; a good sleep, a good shower, albeit cold, but as she looked into his eyes, that small mental itch returned.
"If you're hungry, there's some eggs in the oven. Didn't have any meat though. Supplies got a bit difficult to get a hold of back in Amsterdam, especially after all the refugees."
He was sitting at the galley table, perhaps large enough to seat six, and studying maps, or maybe they were called charts when you were on a boat. He had odd protractor like tools, and a really big compass, the kind used to draw circles. In its foot was an old worn pencil, the end blackened with use. "Thanks, that sounds good. What are you doing? Plotting a course or something?"
William looked up at her with that same wholesome face and curly dark blonde locks, but for some reason, his face looked shadowed with some concern or worry.
"What is it?” She asked.
"I haven't said anything to the others, but we have a small, let's say, navigational issue."
He just stared at her, as if judging what she might do with the information. She waved him to continue.
"Well, we have no power, and the G.P.S. needs power to work. The batteries, the ones for starting the engine, they're dead so I can't use the G.P.S., you know?"
Vega understood what he was saying, but hell, G.P.S. was a new invention, considering how long people have been sailing on the oceans. Then it struck her. He needed the stars to get their bearings, and they couldn't exactly see those anymore. How were they supposed to navigate? "How are we supposed to navigate, then?"
"What I've had to do is guess at our speed, about twelve knots I think, least in this constant wind, and our heading." He pointed at the charts, "We should be right about there."
Vega looked at the map, and saw they had barely left Europe behind. Past France and England and maybe a finger width past Spain, and a vast open water to go. "We got a long way to go." She cleared her throat, "Tell me this. If we just keep heading West, we will hit America at some point, right?"
"Yeah, sure.” He said, dropping his hand flat on the table.
"Once we find land, we can navigate the shoreline, couldn't we?"
"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for. I just wanted to head more southerly towards Florida and home."
"Well, we want to go to New Jersey. If we hit the seaboard, we can get off where ever that is and you can wait or continue on to home. It would be a big help to me, believe me." She drew a dinner plate out of the small oven, and took a fork from the tray of clean dishes bolted next to the sink.
"You know, that's right. If we go directly west, the southerly currents will take us, well, southerly, you know? We should make land around Connecticut or New York, if the current isn't too strong."
"Then I guess we don't really have a problem.” Vega said, filling her mouth with frigid eggs. Her stomach rolled for a second, but she was famished. "Got any ketchup?"
"Yeah, in that cupboard.” He said, pointing without looking.
Vega didn't much like ketchup on her eggs, but it gave her mouth an excuse to expect them to be cold. At least ketchup was normally cold. "Where'd you stow the rations we brought?"
Over the couch there is storage, and to the side of the television there is some. Behind those doors. But the food I have will spoil, so I thought we would eat that first, you know?"
It made sense, but her rations often times had self-heating chemical packs that would produce a hot meal. An instant, irradiated, sterilized packet of some kind of food, but hot was hot. "Yeah, no, that makes sense. How did you cook these eggs?"
"I have a Sterno single-burner stove. It takes forever, but it cooks, you know?"
"Sure.” Vega said as she put the ketchup back in the metal wrack inside the cupboard. Then she sat at the table across from William, careful not to put her plate on his maps. But, as soon as she sat, he began rolling them up.
"Won't do any good to keep staring at them, you know?” He said this like an apology. An apology or an excuse.
Before he got the large one up and rolling in his hands, Vega had seen what looked like a step ladder drawn out on the map, but couldn't be exactly sure what it was. She knew how to read a map, that was part of every soldier's training. But maps that boats and planes used, they were different. Not the topographical kind, and the symbols were different and alien. She stuffed another cold fork full of eggs into her mouth.
"I figured what we could do as far as the helm is to stand watch for five hours at a time. That way, we slide an hour each day and not stand it the exact same time every day. And, everyone will get fifteen hours off between watches, you know?"
It sounded reasonable to Vega, but oddly lopsided. If he scheduled it in three hour intervals, then they would have twelve hours off per watch, and only three hours on the helm at a time. This sounded like a better solution to her and let everyone do a night watch and a day watch. But did William know better? Why was his five hour rotation better? She found she couldn't let it go without at least asking him, "Why not do a three hour rotation? Three on and twelve off?"
He looked at her with a hard face, but only for the briefest of moments. "I guess that would work too. However you guys want to work it."
It sounded like he wasn't mad, just surprised someone questioned him. It was his boat, and he was probably not used to being second-guessed. He stood up abruptly, "Well, it is noon, so I will start the rotation. Maria and the big guy are...."
"Jackson.” Vega said, then put the last of the eggs in her mouth.
"...are top side now, and have been since about eight. You can explain to them how we will handle the rotation?” He asked but didn't wait for an answer. He leapt up the ladder and vanished.
Vega shrugged and took her plate to the sink to wash. She wondered where all of this fresh water was coming from until she saw the faucets. One was marked 'potable' the other not marked at all. She turned on the one not marked and it immediately smelled of sea water. It streamed out in a thin way, surging a bit, reminding her of a dentists water pick. This will take a while, she thought to herself and got to work with a sponge all wadded up and set on the end of a stick.
Once she had broken up the dried egg left behind, and the ketchup, which hadn't had a chance to dry, she rinsed it with the potable or fresh water and put it in the rack. Maria and Jackson came down the steps together, very close and very happy. They fell together on the couch muttering to each other.
"Hi, guys.” Vega said.
Maria looked at her and smiled, "How you doing, girlfriend?"
"Morning, Vega.” Jackson added.
"How do you like boat-life?” She asked as she came to join them on the couch.
"Could use some hot water, that's for sure, boy-howdy."
Maria giggled, "Yeah, I was blue head to foot. Do you think he would let me look at the engines?"
Vega hadn't thought of this. But then again, being able to hot wire a car didn't make you a mechanic, "How much do you really know about engines, Maria?"
Maria snuggled closer to Jackson, as if he was always too far away. "I took auto shop in high school. Three and a half semesters before I ran away."
Ran away? "Ran away? From what?"
Maria tilted her head at Vega as if the answer was obvious, "From home.” Her eyebrows drew together in confusion as a quirky smile grew under her nose.
"Oh. I thought you came from a good home..." she knew that was the wrong thing to say as she was saying it. "I'm sorry, I didn't...."
"Oh, it's okay. No big deal at all. No, I didn't come from a good home, not at all."
"Not at all, boy-howdy. Terrible stuff there," Jackson agreed.
"I wouldn't have thought.” Vega said. "You seem, I don't know, well educated."
Maria looked around for a second, as if looking for spies or eavesdroppers. "Can I tell you a secret?" She smiled slyly, "I didn't remember shit about school until I put the amulet on, for real. No math or English or history. Now it all comes back whenever I think about i
t, like I recorded school on my phone or something, and just have to hit 'play' now. Really."
"Wow....” Vega said, and began thinking about her own education.
"I remember everything too, but I dropped out of school in the eighth grade," Jackson said, somewhat embarrassed.
"You didn't miss much," Maria said, and kissed his temple.
Sure enough, as Vega reflected on her schooling, she could remember all of the rules her teachers made her remember without effort. The more recent, like boot camp and her A.I.T. for military law enforcement came easier than the older stuff, but it all came with a thought. "That's incredible.” She said, mostly to herself.
"Neat, huh?” Maria smiled at her.
"Yeah," Vega felt a smile growing across her lips, "and useful, I bet."
"Boy-howdy. I remembered my sixth grade geography when we were in Germany, just like I was looking right at a map the whole time."
"I guess there's a lot of stuff we haven't figured out yet, huh?"
"That's for sure.” Maria nodded. "We've been... part of... whatever this thing we are all part of now for only a few weeks."
"Tell me this," Vega said with a glance to the ladder leading topside. In a softer voice she asked, "What do you guys think of William?"
Maria looked at Jackson, her face describing her concern. Jackson looked at Maria, his face a work of confusion.
Maria looked back at Vega, 'I know.'
"Know what?” Vega asked.
'I can feel what you're trying to say, and I know,' Maria seemed to whisper.
'I don't know. He seems a nice enough guy, but I understand.'
"This is strange.” Vega said shaking her head as if to clear it. "We are talking without talking."
Maria smiled lazily, "You get used to it."
"I think it's because he don't want nothing from me. Only you two.” Jackson mumbled like a landslide.
"That's what I thought.” Maria said, smiling at her man.
