Colony East (18 page)

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Authors: Scott Cramer

BOOK: Colony East
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He leaned forward in the rowboat and dipped the oar blades into the water. Keeping his arms straight and elbows locked, he pulled back and completed the stroke by bringing the handles to his chest. With a powerful thrust, the boat glided away from the dock. A steady breeze out of the southwest, typical for early May, kept him cool as he worked the oars.

Only the captain was on board
Lucky
Me
. Jordan had made sure of it before setting off.

While Nikki was getting her strength back, the gypsies had quickly settled into the rhythms of island life. Monty and Stone were staying in Jordan’s room. Last he’d seen the boys, they were testing their skateboarding skills on Mount Melrose. The crew members, Alisha and Todd, slept in their berths at night, but they loved bowling by candlelight so much, they had practically moved into Castine Lanes.

The captain had volunteered to work in the garden, and it was during a weeding session that Jordan had told her how much he loved sailing, how he had always wanted to join the Navy. He learned that she loved the sea and sailing as much as he did.

Halfway between the dock and schooner, Jordan rowed in a circle. Someone watching him might have thought he was operating a rowboat while drunk. He was drunk–with doubts and indecision. What would he tell Abby? How would Touk react to his leaving?

He kept rowing in circles until his arms became heavy. Then he aimed the bow at
Lucky
Me
and took slow, steady strokes until he cut through the schooner’s reflection on the surface.

The captain appeared at the rail.

“Permission to come aboard. There’s something I’d like to ask you.”

She tossed him a rope. “I’ve been expecting you.”

~ ~ ~

Abby followed Monty up Melrose Street. Having just finished a run, he was walking up the street, carrying his skateboard under his arm. She watched him pump his fist and shout encouragement to his brother, ten-year-old Stone, who zoomed by him on a skateboard.

A foot shorter, Stone was a smaller version of Monty. Both boys had shaggy brown hair that was turning into dreadlocks from a lack of shampooing. They also seemed to share a love of thrills and spills. Every day on the island had resulted in new scrapes appearing on their knees and elbows. They wore their wounds with pride.

After two days of following Monty around, Abby thought this might be her best chance to speak to him without Jordan around.

The changes she saw in her brother worried her. At first, she was happy to see him more energetic and talkative, like the Jordan of old. A month ago, he never got up before noon—some days not at all. Now he was out of bed before 8 a.m.

He’d been spending a lot of time with the captain, and recently, Monty. Whenever Abby approached the two boys together, it was obvious they changed the topic of their conversation. Now, Abby was about to have her own conversation with the gypsy boy, a heart-to-heart talk about something very important to her.

Monty reached the crest of the hill, and she jogged up to him. “Better than Rockefeller Center?”

He pulled up his sleeve to show off his latest road rash. “Way better!”

“How’d you become a gypsy?”

“When I got out of the colony, I was worried the adults would change their minds and come after me. I thought the best thing was for me and Robbie to leave New York.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You mean Stone.”

Monty rapped his head with his knuckle. “We went to the New Haven Trading Zone. There were a couple of gypsy ships moored. I figured we should start with the biggest one, and that turned out to be
Lucky Me
. I told Jenny my story, and I’ve been seasick ever since.”

Jenny was the gypsy captain. All the crew called her by her first name.

“You really get seasick?” Abby asked.

He nodded with a grin. “The minute we leave a harbor. Other than that, Nikki talking in her sleep, and Stone stinking up the cabin with his farts, I love it.”

Abby raised her eyebrows. “It sounds crowded.”

“Actually, we have an open berth. Bruce left us in New Jersey. He was the best sailor we had. We really miss him during storms.”

Abby tried to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, fearing that berth had Jordan’s name on it.

Just then, Stone trotted up the hill carrying his board.

“Awesome ride, dude.” Monty punched his brother in the arm.

“Thanks, dude,” Stone punched Monty back.

“Love you, bro.” Another punch.

Stone punched him back again. “I love you, too.”

With their fists, they traded several more expressions of fondness for each other. Abby shook her head, pondering the mysterious nature of boys.

Stone hopped on his board and rattled down the hill. “Bend your knees,” Monty shouted.

Stone bent his knees.

Monty whooped and turned to Abby. “It’s so cool when he listens.”

“Usually, younger brothers stop listening to you after they turn six. I guess you really missed him when you were at Colony East.”

“Totally.”

“Families are important,” she said. “Sticking together and all that.”

Monty nodded. “Yeah, all that…” he paused, giving her a strange look, like he was about to say something he shouldn't. Something Abby wasn't supposed to know. “Every situation is different.”

Abby wasn’t going to let him go until she pried the secret out of him. “I think families are the same everywhere.”

Monty shifted side-to-side and his mouth squirmed. Slapping on a fake smile, he hopped on his board and pushed off. “Catch you later.” He hadn't said it, but Monty's eyes had confirmed her worst fear. Watching Monty fly down the hill, Abby knew she had to stop Jordan from making a terrible mistake.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Colony East

Lieutenant Dawson reviewed Lily Meyer’s folder, looking for a nugget he might use to cheer her up. The folder contained information obtained from interviews with Lily and from whatever public records the scientists could find.

She’d been gone for just over ten days, and Dawson wanted to make sure she received a letter every three days.

He read that she was born and raised in Brooklyn. Her father had worked for a bank. Her mother had taught high school biology. Lily’s grandmother on her mother’s side died of lung cancer, and her grandfather died of a heart attack at sixty-seven. There was no mention of her paternal grandparents. Lily had been a top student in her first-grade class at the Teunic Bergen School, PS 9, when the epidemic struck. She had listed her hobbies as coloring, playing piano, and digging up worms.

Dawson picked up his pen, wondering what it was about this particular cadet that had inspired him to sneak around Medical Clinic 17. Something about Lily tugged at his heart.

 

Dear Sarah

 

He stared at the paper until the words blurred. Then he folded it and started with a fresh sheet.

 

Dear Lily,

I hope you are feeling better. Everyone in Biltmore Company can’t wait to see you again.

You’ll never believe how fast we assembled this morning. Eighteen minutes, thirty-two seconds. Yes, a new record!

We got our first squash, asparagus, and cucumbers from Central Park Farm.

Incredibly, a chicken laid a blue egg at the United Nations.

 

Once more Dawson started over, thinking it wasn't a good idea to mention food, given the symptoms of the illness. He copied the first part and continued:

 

Don’t tell anyone, but tonight I am going to conduct a surprise inspection. I’m worried some of your fellow cadets are getting a little sloppy making their beds.

I hope you get better soon.

Lieutenant Dawson

 

He sealed the note in an envelope, addressed it, and placed it in his satchel. Tomorrow, he would deliver it to David Levine in the CDC liaison office, who would place the letter on the next flight to Atlanta.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Castine Island

Expecting Jordan to arrive any minute, Abby pressed her back against the boulder. She’d overheard her brother telling Timmy that he was going mushroom hunting. This spot was the worst-kept secret on the island. Everyone knew Jordan came here to cry.

Out of respect for him, Abby had never come here before. It would be intruding in Jordan's personal life. How he grieved for Emily was none of her business, and since he had never wanted to talk to her about it, she knew better than to approach him. With the gypsies leaving in the morning and Jordan’s duffel bag packed, though, things had changed. This was family business. His actions would affect her and Toucan as much as they would him.

She saw how Jordan had brushed away pebbles to make a place for the wildflowers he left here. She twirled a flower between her fingertips and imagined her brother’s sadness locked inside the stem, the same way he kept it locked inside himself.

Doubt crept into her mind. Who was she to tell Jordan that he couldn’t leave? He was fourteen. He could make his own decisions. If he didn't want to stay here with them, she couldn't force him to.

Abby knew she still had time to go home before he arrived. She could walk along the water and cut through the woods to the place she hid her bike, but instead she pressed harder against the boulder as if to glue herself in place.

Her heart beat faster at the sound of rocks clacking. Jordan was walking over the layer of polished stones, coming closer. She stood.

Startled, he jumped back and quickly moved his hand behind his back, but not before she saw the tiny bouquet of flowers. Her heart roiled hard in her chest.

Jordan’s face reddened. “What are you doing?”

Abby pretended not to notice him stuffing the flowers down the back of his pants.

“Jordan, are you going with the gypsies?”

He scrunched his face. “No!” He paused a moment. “Yes.”

“You’re a really good sailor.” Abby had thought about and rehearsed what she planned to say even down to the friendly tone. “I think you’d make a great news gypsy, but you should wait a year or two. The mainland will be much safer then. Maybe, you and Eddie could go together.”

“Abby, you worry too much.”

She was ready for that comment. “Yeah, I guess. You have to admit, there are some scary things happening on the mainland.”

He interrupted. “What, like kids using solar panels? Some dumb kid crashing a plane he could barely fly? Come on, Abby!”

They dueled back and forth. She listed the dangers of the mainland. He countered with positive things they’d heard about.

“What about the Pig?” Abby cried.

He smirked. “I bet more kids have died from peanut allergies.”

She locked eyes with him. If he doesn’t care about himself, let’s see if he cares about the rest of his family. “Touk and I need you. We’ve survived because we’ve helped each other.”

“You guys are fine. Have you seen Touk bossing Timmy and Danny? Abby, she takes after you. I mean that in a good way. She takes charge. Hey, just because I leave doesn't mean we’re not a family.”

She shook her head. “It’s not a good time to go.”

His turn to act warm and friendly. “I’m not leaving forever. I bet I’ll be back by September. I’ll miss you and Touk, but c’mon, three months is no big deal.”

“It’s Emily isn’t it?” Abby blurted. Jordan turned pale and took a step back. Several wildflowers dropped from his pant leg. Abby felt her face growing hot. She wished she could take back what she said. Emily’s death was too sensitive to bring up. Maybe it was even mean on her part to use it as her ultimate weapon to keep him here. “I know what you’re going through,” she added, improvising. “We’re all sad about Emily. We loved her. I miss Kevin, too.” She rested her hand on his shoulder. He swatted it away. “Jordan, you let things build up inside of you and then you explode and want to do something crazy. Leaving the island isn’t going to make you feel better. You can’t run away from your problems.”

He turned. “Mind your own business.”

“Jordan, I care about you. I want to see you happy again, but you’re being selfish. You're not thinking about us.”

He spun around. “Did you care about Mandy?” Anger burned in his eyes.

Abby rocked back on her heels. “Mandy?”

“Mel told me what you said. You put a guilt trip on her. You told her how much Timmy belonged here. Were you really surprised when she came to the yacht club? If she and Timmy had gone to that lake in Maine, she’d be alive today. If you had minded your own business… ” He kicked a rock and faced the water.

Abby’s head started spinning. She slumped down until she sat on her heels and hugged her knees. Tears ran down her cheeks and splattered on the polished pebbles between her feet. It was incredible to think that for the past year Jordan had blamed her for Mandy’s death. Did Mel think that too? Up until now, Jordan had not mentioned Mandy once. Yes, she was willing to admit that she wanted Mandy and Timmy to go to the island, but she didn’t think Mandy’s death was her fault.

A new thought crossed her mind, one that took her by surprise and stole her breath. She was the one being selfish. Maybe Jordan should go with the gypsies.

When Abby looked up to tell him that and apologize, he was already gone.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Colony East

Gunshots rang out.
Pop pop. Pop pop pop
. Lieutenant Dawson knew that ensigns patrolling the East River were firing warning shots at kids getting too close to the perimeter.

He kept a careful eye on Cadet Billings, walking alongside him, and debated whether he should reschedule their fly-fishing lesson. Pier 15, where he planned to take Jonzy, offered an unfettered view of the patrol boats. The admiral, Dawson thought, would frown upon a cadet having a front row seat to the colony’s security measures.

He decided to wait and see if the gunfire subsided. After all, it wasn’t every day someone showed interest in the art of fly-fishing.

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