by Jordan Rivet
“Not until the tide comes in,” David said. “We’ll have to wait it out.”
“The tide?” Of course! Things like tides mattered on the coast.
“Yep. Emilio thinks it should be high enough in about four hours.”
Esther nodded. “So we’re stuck here until then?”
“Not stuck,” David said. “Their trawler has a shallow enough draft to fit through now, so we’re taking a group in to see the local settlement. We’ll have to wait for the water to rise enough for Lucinda to squeeze past. Plus we need to give our new friends their payment.”
Emilio grinned and looped his arm through Esther’s.
“Oh?” she said.
“Your tech,” David said. “Their village isn’t on the satellite network yet. You’ll give them your biofuel generator plans in exchange for safe passage through the mouth and a guide to help us sail up the river.”
“I see.” Esther extracted herself from Emilio’s grip. He gave her a friendly smile. He seemed to think he’d gotten a pretty good deal.
“Yes, and on our way out Zoe will set them up with a satellite link. I convinced our friend here that we might need our guns when we reach the lake.” David looked rather pleased with himself.
“All good news,” Esther said. “Can my dad come back now?”
“He’s going with us in the landing party, since he’s already made such a good impression. Luke will take the command here, and Zoe will stay on comms. You and I will go to the shore with your dad, Cody, and Dax.”
“Whatever you say, Captain Hawthorne,” Esther said.
David grinned. “Lead the way, Emilio.”
They fetched Dax and prepared to cross over to the trawler. Jorge would stay behind on the Lucinda. Wade and Sarita stationed themselves on either side of him, while the others headed for the other ship. David reminded them to be polite to their guest. Sarita snorted in response.
Esther was the last to step across the gangplank to the trawler. The river rushed beneath her as she stomped across the narrow board. She jumped off before she had a chance to get scared, her boots thudding on the deck.
“Welcome to Santa Julia,” Emilio said.
Sailors crowded the ship, dressed in the same bright colors they had painted their vessel. David was busy shaking hands all around the crew. Dax and Cody stood nervously near the railing. Strangely, Dax seemed to be eyeing Cody with as much suspicion as the strangers.
As the trawler’s loud, coughing engines started up again, Simon joined them. He introduced “mi hija, Esther” to his new friends.
“You okay?” she asked him.
“This is fascinating,” her father said. “Many of these people lived in this region before the disaster. They’ve held on against all odds and dealt with famine and floods for nearly seventeen years.”
“How many are there?”
“We’ll find out soon enough, but I think their settlement is fairly small.”
“You’re making friends quickly,” Esther said.
“I wish I could take notes on all this,” Simon said, smiling and nodding at the strangers. “They’ve been on land all this time! They can’t have had it easy.”
The trawler slowed as it approached the narrow gap between the mudflats and the shipwreck. As they neared the half-sunken cargo ship, the men and women around them held on to the railing or squatted low to keep their balance. Esther and the others followed their lead.
The water roughened as the trawler drifted dangerously close to the capsized ship. Graffiti marred the smooth planes of its hull. It was mostly names, but there were bright paintings and symbols as well, many overlapping each other.
“Los muertos,” a voice said suddenly. Esther jumped. Emilio had come up beside her. He gestured toward the names on the hull. “Los muertos. The dead.”
“I understand,” Esther said. “I’m sorry.”
The Santa Julia shuddered in the white water around the sunken hull. Esther clutched the rail. Then the trawler slipped through the gap without a scrape. They were on the other side of the barrier, leaving the Lucinda bobbing in the delta. They had truly left the sea behind them.
The climate on the opposite side of the cargo ship seemed to change almost immediately. As they cruised slowly up the river, it grew muggy. The banks on either side spread wide and muddy, like at the mouth of the river, but eventually they gave way to jungle-green hills.
Up ahead the river split into two branches, a wider one to the left and a narrower one to the right of a small island. The island looked like a man’s head shaved bald on the sides, with bright-green sprigs rising from the center. They pulled into the narrower branch of the river, to the right of the island. As they passed it, revealing more of the bank on the opposite side, Emilio beckoned all the Lucindans to the bow.
“Old town,” he said, pointing.
Another mudflat spread before them on the far right bank. It had been partially hidden by the island until now. About halfway between the water and the jungle a group of structures emerged from the mud. Most were no more than shells: walls and partial roofs growing out of great dark piles of mud. Debris stacked like barriers suggested attempts had been made to protect the buildings from the floodwaters. A bus sat in front of one building, half-submerged in mud. It too bore names and pictures in lurid paint.
“New town is there,” Emilio said, gesturing to the jungle. “We go now.”
The trawler passed the swamped village and drew near to a long, thin dock. It was a rudimentary structure, floating loosely from a large concrete block so it could adapt to changes in the water level. As they got closer they saw that the concrete anchor was the wall of a sturdy building now sitting mostly beneath the waterline.
They climbed down a ladder from the Santa Julia onto the dock, which bobbed under their feet, pulling at the concrete anchor block. Emilio and some of his crew joined them. With Emilio leading the way, Esther and her friends crossed the dock.
When they reached the end, Esther reached for her father’s hand. He grasped hers without a word, and together they took their first steps onto the land. Esther’s boots sunk into the mud, leaving distinct footprints in the earth.
When everyone had reached the shore, the trawler coughed and sputtered, then sped away, heading back in the direction of the Lucinda. It disappeared around the island, leaving them stuck on land without a ship in sight. Gentle waves lapped at the shore. The water tore at the sand on the river beach with each pulse. The sound of the sea was softer here, like a shell pressed to the ear.
A small boy emerged from the shadows behind the anchor block. He wore a faded baseball cap, and mud stained the bottoms of his too-big jeans. He shouted a question at Emilio, who answered in a rapid stream of Spanish. The boy put both thumbs up and let out a shrill whistle. Half a dozen children popped out from various nooks and crannies around the anchor building and the drowned village. They darted off into the jungle together, chattering animatedly.
Emilio beckoned Esther and the others down a hard-packed path leading away from the concrete anchor building. They walked across the damp sand. There was debris here too, but it had all been pushed to the side to clear a path from the dock to the jungle. Soon the driftwood, plastic, and seaweed gave way to scrubby plants, and finally trees.
Esther had never seen anything like these trees. Even during her childhood, the trees had been tame, relegated to planters by the sidewalks or one corner of their little backyard. These trees grew in every direction, some sloping drunkenly almost to the sand, others standing in tight, impenetrable packs.
The air thickened as the trees closed in around them. It was damp and cool, and the moisture sank into Esther’s skin. The path narrowed, forcing them to spread out into a double-file line. Emilio and David led the way. Esther walked with Dax behind Simon and one of the Santa Julia’s crew, a woman with her thick hair cut short above the collar of a bright-green jacket.
Birds sang in the trees. A buzzing sound suggested insects too. It
was surreal. And the smells! Earth and moss and something sweet, perhaps some sort of tropical flower. Esther felt like she was wading through a strange dream.
She turned to Dax. “How are you doing with all this?”
“Fine. Fine.” He tugged at his hair.
“Nervous?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Same.”
“Can’t believe I’m worried about this after everything we’ve been through.”
“Everything we’ve been through so far has involved a ship or two,” Esther said. “This is new territory.”
“I mean, I’ve really put myself out there for her, you know?” Dax said.
“Huh?” Esther glanced over at Dax and stumbled on a root beneath her feet. He didn’t notice. He was staring in front of them without really focusing on anything.
“I get that things change sometimes,” he said, “but I thought we’d be different.”
“We?”
Dax sighed. “We have something special, you know? And he’s not that great.”
“Emilio?”
“What?” Dax looked at her then. “No, of course not.”
“What are you talking about?” Esther asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“Emilio and his crew,” Esther said. “The locals guarding the river? The jungle?”
“I was talking about Cally and Cody,” Dax said.
“What about them?”
“He loves her,” Dax said miserably.
Esther nearly tripped over another root. “Cody loves Cally?”
“I think so,” Dax said.
“You guys are still a couple, though, right?”
“Yeah, but I’m not sure she still wants to be. The way she looks at him . . .”
Esther glanced back at Cody. He walked near the end of the group, beside a skinny man with a thick beard. He stared wide-eyed at the jungle around them. He still looked very young to her.
“Are you sure you’re not imagining things?” Esther said.
“Ever since I smuggled her aboard, she’s spent almost as much time with him as she’s spent with me,” Dax said.
“Doing what?”
“He just comes around to talk when we’re working. He even helped scrub the decks the other day.”
“Have you talked to Cally about it?” Esther asked.
“No.” Dax turned to her hopefully. “Do you think you could ask her about it, Esther?”
“You’ve gotta be able to talk to her yourself.”
“Yes, but you’re her friend,” Dax said. “Maybe you could find out what she’s thinking.”
“I couldn’t exactly report back to you.”
“I know.” Dax frowned. “I’m wondering if I should have stayed on the Galaxy after all, you know?”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Dax.” Esther looked at the strangers in front and behind them. The trees looming beside them. “Things are changing quickly for everyone. Maybe you’ll end up being in the right place because you left the Galaxy even if things don’t work out with Cally. I mean, look at Neal. He’s happy and busy again, even though at first it seemed like he’d never get over Marianna.”
“I guess so.”
Esther nudged him with her elbow. “Let’s worry about this some other time. We’re on land! Isn’t it amazing?”
Dax released his hair and grinned. “I guess so.”
“Don’t worry about Cally,” Esther said. Behind them the skinny bearded man had begun chatting to Cody in Spanish. He looked increasingly nervous, sweat beading on his round forehead. “You’ll work things out if you’re meant to.”
“Thanks, Esther.”
They walked for almost fifteen minutes. They were getting awfully far away from the shore. Esther began to feel slightly claustrophobic as the trees closed in around them. There was no space!
Her nervousness increased as the minutes passed. Their guides showed no signs of stopping. They were surrounded on all sides by trees or strangers. What if they needed to escape from these men? If they ran into the jungle, they might never find their way out again.
Esther hooked her fingers in her tool belt. She would not give in to panic. These people were helping them. And they might have important information about the lake.
Finally, they heard people calling greetings up ahead. The trees parted, and they stepped into a wide clearing. Or more precisely they stepped up to a clearing. The settlement was on a low hilltop that had been shorn of vegetation. Sunlight bathed a few clusters of houses constructed of concrete and debris. A hard-packed path encircled the hilltop. A woman driving a motorbike along it pulled up suddenly when she saw the strangers. She watched the group carefully, poised for flight.
Emilio led the way as they climbed a flagstone path toward the village. Narrow streets wound between the buildings. People dressed in bright clothing, like the crew of the Santa Julia, began to congregate as they noticed the arrival of the Lucindans. The group of children led by the little boy had expanded. The children gathered around the newcomers, pointing and giggling.
“There are so many young ones,” Simon said to Emilio. “Many children.”
“Yes,” Emilio said. “We need children.”
A little girl broke through the crowd, tugging a tiny boy by the hand.
“¡Abuelo!” she called, and wrapped her arms around Emilio’s leg, dragging the little boy with her. The boy grabbed Emilio’s trousers to keep from falling down.
“Mi hija’s boy and girl,” he said, and swept the little boy up into his arms.
The boy giggled and turned to stare at the newcomers. He laughed and pointed at David, transfixed by his white-blond hair. David smiled, took the little boy’s hand, and shook it solemnly.
“Here!” Emilio said. “You hold. He is Carlos.” He put the little boy in David’s arms.
Surprised, David and the little boy regarded each other, green eyes meeting round brown ones.
“Hi there, Carlos,” David said.
Little Carlos reached up and grabbed David’s hair with his fist.
Emilio roared with laughter. “We eat now.”
The group followed Emilio toward one of the larger structures at the center of the village, an open-air pavilion with a large stove inside it. A few people were already sitting at the long picnic tables that filled the space. Emilio ushered Esther and her friends to the tables and told them to wait.
Everything was brightly painted, from the tables to the support posts for the pavilion to a mural covering the outer wall of the nearest building. It depicted the village on the hilltop, with the river spread out beneath it. It was full of people with cartoonish heads and smiling faces.
Esther sat down beside David, who was still holding little Carlos. David had managed to extract his hair from the boy’s fist and was now making strange babbling sounds. Carlos giggled and tried to grab David’s glasses.
“Wanna hold him, Esther?” David said.
“Uh, no, I don’t think so . . .”
“What’s the matter? Are you afraid of babies?”
“No! I mean, not really. Didn’t you tell me you don’t like kids?”
“I said I don’t want to bring kids into this world, not that I don’t like them when they’re already here,” David said. “Isn’t that right, buddy?” he cooed in that strange babbling voice.
Esther stared at David as he got the little boy to smile and laugh. Listening to his baby talk was almost as strange as being on land. She remembered a moment months ago on the Catalina when she had spotted David sitting with a group of children in the plaza and teaching them a ball game. It had been hard to reconcile the image with that of the imperious spokesman she had first met standing on the deck of a Galaxy yacht. But she had learned a lot about David since then.
Esther felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see the little girl, Carlos’s sister, standing there, her face right at Esther’s eye level. She started chattering in quick, birdlike syllables.
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br /> “I . . . I don’t understand,” Esther said.
The girl chattered on as if she had understood Esther’s every word. Esther looked around for an adult who might belong to the girl, but everyone seemed preoccupied with fixing up big plates of food for the guests.
“Looks like you’ve made yourself a friend,” David said. “What’s her name?”
Esther shrugged.
“You’re hopeless, Esther.” David leaned around her and waved to the little girl. He put a wide palm on his chest. “David,” he said. Then he pointed to the little boy. “Carlos.” A hand on the top of Esther’s head. “Esther.” He pointed at the girl.
She giggled and twisted her fingers in the folds of her bright-yellow dress. “Amalia!” she said, then repeated Esther and David’s names. “¡Y Carlos! Mi hermano.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Amalia,” David said cordially, and the little girl giggled again.
“How are you so good with kids?” Esther said.
“I’m good at everything.” David grinned and leaned in to kiss Esther on the cheek, making Amalia giggle even harder.
Soon Emilio and the others from the settlement were setting overflowing plates in front of their guests. Some sort of grilled animal, a bit of rice, a large pile of green and yellow vegetables, and a wide, flat bread filled the plates. Esther watched the others pile everything onto the bread and roll it up to eat. She did the same.
The flavors were strange and surprisingly spicy. Esther’s eyes watered, and her tongue tingled and burned. It was so different from the bland fish she had been eating for years.
Someone set a dented metal bottle filled with water in front of her. It looked just as clean as the water they put through the desal system. She sipped cautiously. It had a distinct earthy flavor.
Emilio and Simon had joined Esther and David for the meal. Emilio was the only person in the village who spoke any English, and he and Simon made liberal use of gestures and facial expressions as they talked. Simon asked Emilio to explain what had happened with the Lake Aguamilpa people.
“We are friends first,” Emilio said. “They come for many years. We go to lake sometimes for los pescados—for the fish—but later they say no. The Big Man says no. They kill us.”
