Archipelago N.Y.: Flynn (22 page)

A moment later, a
beam of light followed the fish and illuminated a small opening at the bottom
of the building. Flynn looked desperately for a place to hide, saw none and
flattened himself against the wall. Gripping the wall with his fingers and
toes, he did his best not to float away and reveal himself. Despite the awkward
angle, Flynn still managed to peer down at the source of the light. To his
amazement, he saw a hand holding a torch emerge out of the opening, followed by
the dark silhouette of a body. The mysterious diver made a few strokes and the
light of the torch fell on what was an Ethanol barrel… This was another
surprise for Flynn. He knew he had dumped at least twenty of these barrels in
the past few days… but now, there was just one, lying on the ocean bed near the
opening. The rest of the barrels were all gone! Flynn watched the diver loop a thick
rope around the barrel and drag it back toward the opening.

It was at this
precise moment that Flynn caught a glimpse of the diver’s face and felt his blood
run cold…It was Ann Baxter’s! Stunned, Flynn lost his grip on the wall. He had
just seen his teacher… But that was impossible… inconceivable, he thought as he
recovered his position against the wall… The underwater light and shadows were
playing tricks with his eyes... Ann Baxter was long dead… But the diver was
definitely a woman! He was sure about that. Within seconds, the mysterious
figure and the barrel had disappeared out of sight. Flynn tilted his body
upward and began his ascend back to the surface… He couldn’t wait to tell
Madison!

Leo watched the
Perry boy heave himself out of the water and roll onto his raft. Madison was
kneeling next to him, talking... A moment later, Perry was pacing excitedly up
and down on the
Seeker,
holding his head in his hands… Something must
have happened on that dive, thought Leo. Madison’s body language was strange,
too. He saw her shrug her shoulders, then look at the water for a very long
time, as if studying its depths. Eventually, she joined Flynn at the helm of the
Seeker,
and the two headed back toward the Archipelago.     

Leo put the
binoculars down, his lips stretching into a thin smile. The
Fury
swayed
up and down, little waves lapping gently against its sides. He knew he was onto
something… His gut was telling him Flynn Perry was up to no good, but for now
it was just intuition, nothing specific… He had to be more patient. He would
keep following the pair quietly. Flynn would make the wrong move, and then it
would be all over… But first, Leo was going to check out the deserted Power
Plant. The place had piqued his interest so much... He was only a mile out, a
safe distance and clear of Flynn’s usual route. Leo glanced at his watch. The
raft would be far away by now and safe enough for the
Fury
to slowly
move in. He pressed the button on his dash board, and the boat’s engine roared
to life.

“Are we ready?”
Marcus Van Zandt flicked away a speck of dust from his sleeve. He was wearing a
velvet suit, which had once been maroon in color. As far as he was concerned,
it was perfect for the grand occasion. Few owned suits in such good condition,
and Van Zandt was very proud of that fact.

“They’re all here,
Marcus!” Vince Jordan said. “You can start the Departure Ceremony at any time.”

Van Zandt leaned
forward, pulled the curtain slightly and peered through the slit. The
microphone stand was waiting for him, right in the middle of the grand stage,
erected especially for the occasion. A huge crowd had gathered in front of it.
The crescent bay of water, surrounding the Van Zandt building, was full with
hundreds of vessels, all crammed together, jostling for room. Each and every
one of these vessels had been decorated with whatever the people could find
that was bright and colorful. The Government required that all vessels looked
festive and cheerful… so improvised flags and streamers flew from masts, empty
soda cans jangled on ropes and wires. Another requirement was for the people to
make as much noise as possible. A cacophony of loud trumpets, shrieking horns
and beating drums assaulted Van Zandt’s ears, but he wasn’t bothered by any of it.
The more, the merrier, he thought, pleased with what he was seeing and hearing.
It was going to be a day of great Departure fun.

The Upper Side
residents had shown up in full force for the celebrations and were ready to
party. It was one of the highlights of the year and few wanted to miss it. The
people were shouting, cheering and clapping their hands in great anticipation.
The Lower Side was also gearing up for the event. Most of its residents were in
various stages of intoxication, thanks to the cheap Algae brandy the Government
had provided for the occasion. It had been flowing freely for a week now, so
the mood on the Archipelago was highly festive… drunkenly so, and that was
exactly how Marcus Van Zandt wanted it to be.

He smiled and
glanced to the right, where his Government ministers were seated on a floating
pontoon. Duncan Roth was standing alone on his enormous power boat. Next to his
boat was the Departure raft, which was docked securely to the stage. Rows of
crudely built bench seats were ready and waiting for the raft’s passengers.
Those had been nailed together hastily and with little thought to comfort. But
a lot of effort had gone into decking out this one-way vessel and making it
look as grand as possible… Banners and an assortment of rag-tag decorations
hung over it, like a canopy of shredded rainbows. Everybody knew that the raft
was missing a few crucial parts … there was no steering rudder, nor pedals or
oars of any kind… it was not meant to be operational… It was meant to drift
away smoothly into oblivion! It looked perfect, thought Marcus Van Zandt with
pride! Everything about this Departure Ceremony was perfect.

“Let's begin!” Van
Zandt threw back the curtain, a wide smile on his face. He walked onto the
stage, fully aware of the power he held over the people of the Archipelago. A
loud roar welcomed him as he stepped toward the microphone. He waited for a few
seconds then raised his arms to quiet the crowd.

“Greetings and for
the Greater Good of everyone...” His voice crackled through the speakers, then
faded into a loud feedback noise. Van Zandt scrunched up his face and glanced
angrily behind him, where a pale-looking man frantically worked the knobs of a
decrepit amplifier. A moment later, the jarring noise was gone, and Van Zandt
turned back to face his hushed audience.

“It’s this time of
year again ...” said Van Zandt, teeth flashing in the light of the setting sun,
“...the time, when we get together to say a big thank you to our departing
citizens!” He paused to allow the crowd to cheer and clap. “All week we have
been celebrating their lives,” he continued, “and the many years of hard work
they’ve given us… to make our community a better place! Today, we also
celebrate their noble and brave act of selflessness ... the decision to step
away and make room for the new workforce, which our Archipelago community so
much needs!”

Van Zandt paused
again to allow for more cheers and clapping of hands.

“As you all know,
fresh water’s been flowing freely and without any restriction since the start
of this Departure week! And it’ll continue to do so for another week, as a
token of gratitude toward all of you ... and especially to the people we're
saying good-bye to today!”

Hearing those
words, the crowd erupted in a frenzy of excitement. People began to jump up and
down on their rafts, making the water roil underneath. They rattled their empty
soda cans, banged on drums and blew their horns, creating a terrible and
deafening racket.

Flynn stared
blankly at the spectacle playing out around him. He had stationed the
Seeker
as far away from the stage as possible. Pharrell and Clay’s raft was directly
behind him. Flynn felt completely removed from the madness of the crowd and all
the jubilation… An extra week without water rations! That was how much it took
for all these people to go crazy with joy…to buy their love and absolute
loyalty!

But Flynn knew he
was once guilty of doing the same…He and his father had also come to watch
Departure Ceremonies…same place ... same excitement and euphoria. They had both
cheered, they had clapped ... they had played their part… And they had enjoyed
their gifts of free water, food and all the little extras that came with such
an event… But back then, Flynn had watched strangers being sent away on the
Departure raft… Now, it was people that Flynn knew... People he loved and cared
about…

Suddenly, Flynn
felt someone tap him on his shoulder. Startled, he turned and saw Madison
standing next to him. “What are you doing here?” Flynn shouted against the
noise of the crowd.

“I’m coming with
you,” replied Madison.

“No, you’re not!
Stay out of this…”

“It’s my plan…
remember?”

“Makes no
difference… you can’t come,” Flynn was yelling now.

They would have
argued longer if it wasn’t for Pharrell and Clay stepping in. The two boys had
jumped onto Flynn’s raft and now stood between Flynn and Madison. “Stop it!”
Pharrell growled. “You’re makin’ people stare, you know.”

“Let Madison
come,” said Clay. “She’s got a point… it was her plan…”

Flynn was clearly
outnumbered. He scowled and said, “Fine…”

But no one heard
the rest of Flynn’s words, because the crowd erupted in the loudest of cheers.
All eyes were on Van Zandt, who had stepped up to the microphone again.

“And now....,” the
man said, “without further ado ... allow me, on behalf of the Government, to welcome
those on the Departure List!”

Music blared from
the speakers, the curtain flew open. Flynn's stomach turned when he saw his
father walk out... Tony was right behind him. They lined up, each of them
clutching a bag with their one-week food supply and whatever small personal
belongings they had decided to take. Flynn watched the whole group shuffle onto
the Departure raft. All of them appeared calm, and some were even waving to the
crowd. The total acceptance of their fate seemed so unnatural to Flynn... The
group was now shouting, “For the Greater Good!” His father, Tony, everybody…

“They’ve got to
act happy,” whispered Madison in Flynn’s ear. “Leo says that if they don’t,
their families pay the price… the threats of what they’ll do to them are
horrific, Flynn… really horrific!”

Flynn nodded. It
all made sense now… Everyone on the Departure List was trying to protect their
loved ones. Pretend or be punished… And since no one ever came back, who was to
know what these poor people were threatened with… before stepping on that
stage…

The crowd exploded
again, Van Zandt was still speaking, praising the group ... but Flynn wasn't
listening anymore. The sounds around him became muffled as blood rushed to his
head… All he could hear was his heart pounding in his chest. He was desperately
seeking his father's eyes. Alan Perry was now taking his seat on the Departure
raft, and Flynn saw Tony on the row behind his father. Of course, there was no
way either of them could see Flynn, but he hoped they felt his presence there…
some comfort that they weren’t alone… and that help was on its way… “...and
now, let their Departure journey begin!” Flynn caught the last words of Van
Zandt's speech.

Duncan Roth was
ready, the engine of his motor boat running idle. The Departure raft was
securely tied behind his boat with a thick towing rope. Security guards were
pushing the crowd back, trying to clear a path for the procession. It was a
difficult task, because of the large number of vessels, all vying to be in the
same spot. There were angry shouts and curses coming from the crowd. Everyone
wanted to see the parade, and by now most people were drunk and extremely
rowdy. Finally, a few shots were fired in the air, forcing the crowd to part
and make way. Duncan Roth raised his hand in a final salute to Van Zandt then
gunned his engine. The boat lurched forward, and the Departure raft swiftly
followed in its wake.

“Here we go,”
cried Flynn, his face a mask of grim determination. He gripped the rudder and
placed his feet on the pedals. The
Seeker
began to move slowly, peeling
away from the crowd. Flynn made sure his raft remained close to the walls of
the buildings, staying in their shadow. He threw a quick glance to his left and
saw Pharrell doing the same… They had gone over the route of the parade a dozen
times… until Flynn was satisfied they all knew it by heart… and that there would
be no turning back.

“Well, that part’s
over!” said Flynn as they watched Duncan Roth's boat tow the Departure raft
past the last Lower Side buildings and head out into open waters.

Keeping a safe
distance, he and Pharrell had trailed the procession all the way from Midtown
bay and through the Lower Side canals. They had managed to remain focused on
the task, ignoring all the excitement and commotion going on around them. Both
rafts had zigzagged past vessels and avoided numerous collisions along the
waterways. They paid no attention to the madness that awaited them on the Lower
Side. Here, the residents had also come out onto rooftops, bridges and walkways
to cheer on the Departure raft. They blew on horns and banged on drums,
drinking and dancing as Duncan’s boat passed beneath them. The “stars” of the
parade waved back, with frozen smiles and blank eyes.

Flynn lifted his
feet from the pedals and turned to Pharrell and Clay. “Let's hang back for a
while… We don't want the Rottweiler to spot us.”

Pharrell nodded,
squinting against the setting sun. Duncan's boat and the Departure raft were
past the South border now, heading towards the Junk nets. They were making
headway fast, becoming smaller and smaller against the darkening horizon.

“I think we
shouldn’t let him get away too far…” Madison said, glancing
at Flynn. “They'll
be out of sight soon.”

“Not yet!” Flynn was
looking up at the rooftops behind them. He knew the Watchmen were up in their
towers, keeping their sharp eyes on the Departure raft. The same could be said
of Van Zandt and his Government with their powerful binoculars… They were bound
to be watching, Flynn thought… But it was getting dark, and soon they would all
be invisible, swallowed by the night. Then it would be the time to strike… but
for now they needed to wait. “Don’t worry, we won't lose them.” Flynn dug under
the seat, took out his dad's old binoculars and glued them to his eyes. Duncan's
boat had started to make a wide turn to the east.

“Where do you
think he's going to dump them?” asked Madison, shifting nervously on her seat.

“Further east, in
the Atlantic,” Flynn replied. “So the current doesn't bring anybody drifting
back in!”

As night fell, the
pale three-quarter moon was now their only source of light. The Departure raft
was just a silhouette, barely visible even through the lenses of the
binoculars.

Suddenly, the
powerful beam of the boat’s headlight went on.

“Perfect!” Flynn dropped
the binoculars on the seat. “We can see them fine now and no one can see us.”
He sat back and placed his feet on the pedals. “Ready Pharrell? With Duncan
Roth on his own, he shouldn’t be a problem… The three of us will overpower the
bastard in no time.”

“You mean the four
of us,” Madison said.

“No, you’ll stay
out of it.” Flynn glared at her. “And that’s an order, Miss Ray.”

“Not so sure it’ll
be that easy, bro” Pharrell shook his head, “He’s armed!”

“Yeah, but he’s
not expecting company,” Flynn argued. “His motor’s loud… we sneak from behind,
get my dad, Tony and your parents… then we disappear and…”

“What about the
others?” Madison interrupted.