Leopard Dreaming (22 page)

She’d been crying for him.

M
ira faced the breeze, calling out instructions occasionally to Darkin, as her captain. His
Limo
had provided the best ride she’d ever had over water. Glassy smooth. Or maybe Darkin could play the helm as sweetly as his musical instruments.

She’d suffered only the mildest dose of seasickness so far, allowing her to keep one hand free to watch the precious cargo aboard that ghostly vessel, which she kept at the far end of Lockman’s binoculars. No need to remove the leather strap from around his neck. She still couldn’t tolerate anything around hers, and didn’t want to risk losing them over the side by accident. Safer to have him stand that close anyway, until she grew more confident with her sea legs.

Staying abreast of Freddie offered a bigger challenge. Keeping outside his earshot. Or so she hoped. He could hear through time, but she still suspected his hearing over distance should be no more remarkable than most people’s. Yet sound seemed to travel further over flat water, especially at night — which it was for him at the time. It also seemed possible that he might have sailed this way again with his brother in search of her echoes. So she also kept them about as far away as she could
hear normally with her own acute ears, plus another half nautical mile or so in the hope of erring on the safe side.

A difficult task at times with so many small islands dotting the bay.

Behind her at the invisible helm she could hear Darkin humming an unusual tune. She didn’t complain, even though she’d asked for complete silence. She guessed it must have been hard for him to sit quietly for so long. She’d heard him fidgeting about often, as if bursting to say something. Then he’d scratch it out of his system with pen and ink onto paper. Inspiration, apparently.

‘We won’t trouble you much longer,’ she said, hoping to reassure him.

Don’t worry about him,
Lockman assured her, typing lightly on her shoulders from behind as if administering a light massage.
He’s having a ball. That’s his third new tune in twenty minutes.

Gliding high in the air atop the invisible
Limo
, Mira returned her attention to the wild ghostly bay ahead. So many sheltered channels between the isles, but as they emerged into rougher water the deck heaved, pitching with a yaw in the opposite direction to the ghostly wave that she could see. Her reflexes compensated the wrong way, and her knees buckled.

Lockman caught her around the waist before she hit the deck; her hands still gripping the invisible rail and binoculars. She felt like an idiot, using him to catch herself at the same time, but he never said a word to make her feel it, and never removed the leash from his neck, even though her full weight had just wrenched on it.

‘Gets rougher ahead,’ he said, and merely set her back on her feet. ‘You want to try the sofa again?’

She shook her head, feeling pale. ‘I need to stay near a rail, just in case.’

‘Feet apart,’ he suggested. ‘One forward and one back. Brace your knee against the side too, so you’re not just relying on one hand.’

She tried it, and liked it, even though it seemed so odd to rely on something invisible for a change. There’d been a time not so long ago when heights would have terrified her — especially when she couldn’t see the ghostly ground or deck beneath her. And yet with Lockman at her side she’d only just noticed that particular fear missing.

He kept one hand on her back. Warm and steady. Made her feel safe, and yet guilty. It should have been Ben’s hand on her back, and while she tried to think only of him, the playful breeze kept teasing her with the subtle scent of Lockman.

Needing both hands briefly to refocus on the Volkswagen, she peered through its windshield and tried to catch up on anything she’d missed between the two passengers. Parked sideways on deck. Mira could maintain her watch quite easily while cruising parallel.

Freddie fidgeted about in his passenger seat, clearly upset, as if he might be able to hear their trouble coming as they sailed nearer to their fate.

Take them,
Maddy said, returning his headphones and music stick.

No need out here.
He donned them anyway, and toyed with them without connecting them up or switching them on yet.
Sound waves only silence sound waves if there are enough in the first place.

Maddy nodded and gripped the steering wheel, clearly worried about the oncoming storm and the fact that Freddie had stowed away with her. She tried to use her phone several times, telling him she needed to let Serenity know he was with her, but reception around the bay was always patchy, even in fine weather. She gave up after a few minutes, and stared grimly through the windscreen, directly at Mira with a Mona Lisa
smile on her face — until a ghostly rain began to pelt down upon their windows with droplets that splattered larger than pancakes.

Maddy switched on the wipers, also keeping Mira’s line of sight to them clear enough as the pair began to talk, finally.

How cool is this?
Maddy asked, forcing a smile and a brave face for her passenger.
We’re sailing through our conversation — literally. Does it make it any easier for you, Freddie? Less confusing not to hear everything that’s coming all at once? I mean, out here, where it’s quieter at sea.

He shrugged, already shivering so much it looked more like a shudder — terrified, as if he hadn’t really expected a sea voyage for himself, no matter what he’d heard coming from the shadows at Serenity.

This water is busy,
was all he managed to reply. Growing busier too, as far as Mira could see. Fishing boats everywhere, from small dinghies to motorised yachts, all mustering for the annual fishing competition that week. The Straddie Classic.

The cargo ship motored steadily past them all, headed north inside Moreton Bay, past Serenity, on a straight course for the north end of Stradbroke Island. A sinister shadow against the glittering coastline, it drifted to a halt and dropped anchor in its own fateful waters roughly halfway between Straddie and the mainland. If Mira hung around long enough, or fast-forwarded her shades a little, she’d be able to see Ben and Tarin Sei arriving as tortured prisoners on a stolen catamaran. Soon after, Lockman and Mira would be hoisted aboard too, both captured, but only long enough to set off an explosion and sea rescue.

Somewhere in between, Matron Sanchez disappeared.

Mira leaned against the rail, watching and waiting at a safe distance. Until she noticed the ship begin to swing
about its anchor, like a compass needle slowly finding the direction of the main winds and tidal current.

The Volkswagen slipped out of view behind the wheelhouse, and when the deck came back into view on the other side, the space was empty.

No avoiding it any longer.

Mira rewound time again and gave Darkin the instructions he needed to move in closer.

The
Liquid Limo
slewed around and bobbed to a halt with the agility of a much smaller ski boat.

Nose to nose, both ships drifted together until their bows overlaid in time and space at ninety degree angles. Far too close for Mira’s liking. She’d expected to drift all the way through to a safer distance, but she heard a great churning down both sides of the
Limo
’s belly, like waves fighting waves, and guessed that Darkin must have engaged some kind of fancy water brakes. And yet she’d be a fool to chastise him. She’d not only signalled him to stop urgently, she also needed to keep her mouth shut, now that she was literally within arm’s reach of Freddie. Standing in the middle of the car’s hood, she could reach right through the windscreen.

‘Creepy,’ Darkin whispered. ‘I got shivers like we found a graveyard for ghost ships.’

‘Shhh!’ Mira hissed. She had trouble enough rewinding time on a moving deck. Bracing herself against the rail, she adjusted the controls on her shades a little more. Tiny twitches, until she replayed the last conversation in the Volkswagen.

She saw Freddie and Sanchez in the car, looking anxious as if they’d also noticed their ship stop. And letting time play on normally, Mira noticed the captain and five large crewmen emerge from below deck behind them, all headed for the vehicle.

Give me your phone
, Freddie said with his hands.
They’re going to search you!
Wrenching his
headphones from his ears, he pushed them into the matron’s lap along with his music stick.
I’m a deaf old fool! They won’t search me properly.

Honey, there’s nobody …
but as the matron turned, her expression changed when she saw them. Two men broke away from their group and opened the guard rail behind her car.

Mira’s heart pounded harder watching, and powerless, but the matron didn’t hesitate. She switched her phone to silent mode and handed it to him, touching hands briefly, offering him a grim smile and encouragement to be brave. However, Fredarick had already become Freddie, with his curly wig turned backwards. He stashed her phone down the front of his underwear. Disgusting, but effective. At Serenity, he’d done the same thing with cigarettes and lighters that he stole from staff, so that even after a strip search, the rightful owners would never want their belongings returned.

The captain stopped a short distance from Maddy’s window, while his five men strode out to surround the car.

A meaty fist pounded on the matron’s window. Cooper, wearing his happy face.

Step out,
he demanded.

Why?
asked Maddy, but in reply, they wrenched open her doors on both sides, and from behind their backs and raincoats, the five bearded men withdrew T-shaped machine guns. Uzis, Mira noticed. Or some kind of modern variant. She’d seen weapons like them used by Kitching’s associates fairly often before.

You now have engine troubl
e, Cooper advised.
This way, please.

Stay calm,
Maddy said, patting Freddie’s hand and waiting for a nod. She unclipped her seat belt, raised her hands to her head and stepped out cautiously.
What’s going on here, gentlemen? We have nothing worth
stealing. I paid you all the cash I had in exchange for the journey. So why are we stopping?

Three angry muzzles aimed at Freddie, waving encouragement for him to join them on deck. But he seemed determined to ignore them, rocking back and forward in his seatbelt, hugging himself and mumbling the same thing over again:
Don’t scream or you’ll die faster.

That a threat?
One crewman slashed his seatbelt and another hauled him out bodily and thrust his ghost backwards over the hood beside Mira. He grappled feebly with them, losing his wig as he latched onto a beard.

Pretty hair
, he sobbed.
I wish I had your pretty hair. Do you oil it, like I oil my head?
He tried to stroke the crewman’s chin, but the crewman recoiled and slapped Freddie’s hand.

What’s wrong with him?
demanded the captain. He strode up to Maddy and growled at her, making it clear he wouldn’t take silence as an answer.
He sounds like he’s not the full shipment.

Mira rolled her eyes, wondering if he and Darkin had attended the same school for sea captains.

He’s deaf,
Maddy said, indignantly puffing up to challenge them.
And he’s senile so he frightens easily. If you really must talk to him, you’ll have to talk through me.

The captain nodded, but not to her. On his signal, Cooper and the others wrenched Freddie and his angel to stand aside near a rack of torpedoes, while three others took care of her car, rolling down the windows, searching it and retrieving Freddie’s manuscript.

Mira saw them flip through the pages, clearly puzzled by it, and finally agree that it must be some kind of secret code.

That’s code all right,
Cooper said as he snatched it off them.
But it’s no secret. It’s Braille, you idiots.
He
clicked his fingers at the car, and pointed to the open gate in the railing.

No!
Maddy screamed, and struggled, but powerless to stop them as they rolled her car overboard.

Search them
, said the Captain, and they did, finding only a music stick in the matron’s pockets, along with a few small coins and a biro which Cooper pocketed, while Freddie pushed fists into his tracksuit pants and turned them inside out like elephant ears.

Want to see my trunk?
he asked, playfully. He began to open his fly, until the deck heaved, making him sway and look drunk and disoriented.

The nameless captain waved as a signal for his men to grab the two captives and follow him.

What are you doing?
screamed the matron. In reply, the burly men dragged her kicking and struggling to the hooks of a huge crane mounted amidships.
What do you want with us?

Freddie seemed confused and terrified for a long moment too. Such a rare thing to see him as vulnerable to an unknown future as anyone.

Using the control panel on the crane, Cooper activated the main arm, selected a torpedo from the top rack, and lowered it onto the deck at the matron’s feet. It seemed bigger with people standing so close to it; at least twice as long as Freddie was tall, and about three times as thick.

Two crewmen took positions around it to prevent it from rolling, while two others used thin ropes to tie Freddie and Maddy together face to face, while the fifth fetched a torch and a much smaller cylinder, about twice the size of a coffee thermos. One of them twisted a knob on the end of the torpedo, which popped open like the lid of a coffin, then together they rolled it and spilled out a belly full of ice.

Mira glanced at the captain, horrified, and saw
him utter the words that Freddie had been repeating endlessly in terror:
Don’t scream or you’ll die faster.

Lockman steadied Mira by the shoulders, shifting more squarely behind her and using finger Braille again to communicate privately.