Crossing Waters Chapter Two

CHAPTER Two: departure
Marci Eskal watched as the men on the pier rushed to finish loading the Journey. Through large silver binoculars he could see the huge boat clearly, even from half a mile away. Many people had arrived at south pier in the last hour and now he guessed the team must be ready to leave. There was little time left. Marci had one final plan, an idea he thought just might work… He raised his binoculars to his eyes again, squinting at the ships windows. In what he believed to be the diner Marci could make out light and much movement. If there was a party going on, this could be his chance.
Marci looked around. Concealed on a hilltop by trees and bushes was an old log cabin. He had stood on an ancient wooden patio watching south pier for hours. The cabin looked over a lush forest, and several fields of wild grass.  There was a nearly unblocked view of the western shore, where the Journey was moored. This place had served as a base for Marci and he could send his workers down as spies. They had found it easy to hide in the tall wild grass beside the road. From there they could hear and see without detection. They were told to take pictures and sneak around- he wanted information. He now knew what weapons to bring, what supplies they made, and even what ships to use. They now all hoped to get a head start, but there was one important thing Marci still needed to know; the islands location.
His plans were not working –he did not know where the island was, and he had failed to delay the Journey’s departure. He was the one who had wired the pier with explosives. The only boxes destroyed by the C4 explosion had only been full of clothes, clothes, of all items. Marci had cursed the idiots who had made fireworks. Flammable! He thought, and yet they could ignite the dry, old, flammable wood of south pier? He had been furious, but now, with time short, he was starting to worry.
His only options now were to sneak trackers onboard, and wait to follow the Journey in the night, or follow openly. He sadly realized he could no longer get a head start….
         Marci Eskal was somewhat short, only five-feet four inches; slim and strong. He was German, though he looked more Italian. He spoke, like nearly everyone on the island, fluent English. He had a square mustache, and oily black hair neatly combed back. He was wearing a leather suit and heavy black boots. He kind of reminded people of Adolph Hitler. 
         Marci went into the cabin. Though small-looking on the outside it was actually quite spacious. The south wall was entirely glass and looked out into the young woods. It was the only window in the building. In the main room were a bed and a lone desk. A kitchen and bathroom took up the north end. A group of Marci’s workers, most of them dark skinned, sat on stools or chairs or stood chatting. There were ten of them, all of them loyal to him.
         Many of Marci’s followers were dark skinned, since he had saved half a tribe from their society. He’d been in the Congo searching for gold in the first days of the White Death, and come upon an African village gone mad. The locals were killing each other, and he had led some of the remaining families to safety. They had agreed to work for him, in debt for their lives.
         That was the main cause for the mass migration of scientists: everyone was scared of dying. After one billion people had died from the White Death, the world went mad. To many, it was the end. People went crazy trying to survive, sometimes killing everyone around them. It was every man for himself. Most people believed it was contagious, that was the reason for isolation. After just seven years, more people had died out of fear than from the White death itself.
As he entered the room everyone hushed. They all stared at him awaiting orders. He glanced around and briskly crossed the room to the desk. The dusty floor creaked under his black hiking boots.
“Come here,” he motioned to one of the men, a big muscular black man named Jarhwill. As Jarhwill walked over Marci opened a drawer and pulled out a white metal suitcase.
“In this case…” Marci explained, “Are several transmitters. I want you to go to south pier and sneak these onboard the Journey. Hide these throughout the ship.” Jarhwill nodded, and Marci opened the case. Inside, wrapped in Styrofoam and cheap plastic, were eight little black boxes with short antennae. These little radios would make following the Journey much easier.
“There are huge doors at the front of the boat,” he told Jarhwill. “Once inside you should find a ramp leading down into a storage area. Hide four in there. Put two more on the bridge, and hide the others wherever you can. Make sure they cannot be found. Be careful, and don’t get caught. If you are discovered, run into the woods north of here, we’ll help you from there.” He led Jarhwill to the door. “One more thing: security is sure to be very high now, after the explosions and all. Stay hidden. Good luck. Now, Go!”
Jarhwill took the case and jogged out into the hills. Marci watched him go, thinking He better not fail.



Jarhwill ran. There were three high hills between their base and the western shore. He knew the mission was almost suicide, but he had to do it, his career depended on it. He crashed through the brush, and made it to the third and last hill. He took a break, panting, and then stooped low and began to climb. At the top he began to crawl towards the pier, hidden by the super-tall wild grass.
South pier was empty now, except for about a dozen crates and the red jeep. The sky was clouded again, and the approaching dusk made everything gray. He checked the ship’s windows carefully. In the bridge there were a few people, but most were in the bright dining room. He could hear loud music and laughter. No one seemed to be looking out.
Jarhwill dashed out of his hiding place and quickly ducked behind a cluster of crates. To his delight, the boxes were more than big enough to hide him. He cautiously peered over the edge, into the gaping doorway. Slowly he stood, and immediately ducked again, taking a deep breath. From inside the ship were jolly voices coming up the ramp. Crap! He thought. If he got caught it would be the end of his career. Marci would certainly fire him. Or worse…. He sat listening as the voices got nearer, and five young men walked onto the pier. They were heading right towards him.
Jarhwill’s heart was beating fast and he was starting to sweat. They got very close, still joking then they lifted a crate ten feet away, carried it off and back into the ship. He sighed in relief. He carefully stood again and ran to the huge doorway and entered the Journey.


Kate watched for the past hour as the rest of the SFTCP team arrived. Kalvin’s plan was to have a short celebration and leave at seven-thirty. She was wearing a pretty green and blue dress. Her hair was like a golden cascade- she curled and styled it for the party.  Kate was chatting with her friends in the Journey’s dining hall. The party had already gone on for over an hour. The room was now crowded with CSL workers and crewmen. There was plenty of talk and laughter, and tons of food and drink. There were clinking glasses, and cheering, yells for more wine. Jack told many jokes, while Kalvin was busy storytelling to amazed sailors.

Even Valdez was enjoying himself, laughing at drunken sailors. The food was delicious: Eric had made a feast of steaks, pastas, soups, and so many other dishes that were all unbelievably good. The tables were simply overflowing with food. On Dorris, Eric was famous for his cooking. “We’re going to run out, before we even leave!” He commented while serving a third round. Of course, he knew that the feast was hardly making a dent in the supply level. Most of the food in the party had been brought by other team members.
The SFTCP was a ‘team’ of 80 scientists led by Dr. Jones. Fifty-two were on Dorris at the time; they were the ones coming on the trip. The rest were scattered around the world. Kalvin had encouraged them to join the hunt. Kalvin had only one rival: Marci Eskal. The two had fought for fame, racing each other to discoveries for years, since before the White Death. Now Kalvin could beat Eskal indefinitely.
Dessert was even better- Pudding, pie, ice cream, parfaits, cake, etc. “We’re all going to get fat!” Kate commented cheerily, digging into her own banana split.
         

Jarhwill crept stealthily down the steep ramp; curving into the ship’s depths. In the dim light he saw hundreds of crates, two jeeps, and a covered truck. He found himself in a vast storage area. Stooping low, he snuck through the boxes. He went to a larger pile of boxes, and hid the first transmitter. He moved to the big truck, an M54 he thought, and hid the second there.
After finishing in the storage room and winding his way through the maze of halls and stairways, Jarhwill made it to the bridge. Nervously he crept to the controls, carefully placing the fifth and sixth transmitter. A loud snore made him jump; he turned to see a sleeping sailor slouching in a leather chair. Probably drunk, he thought.
Jarhwill was anxious to leave the Journey, and he’d already decided where to hide the remaining radios. He hurriedly made his way to the lounge. The last one will be safe with the spy, he thought. Marci had hired an SFTCP member to stay on the Journey. Jarhwill pulled out an old cell phone, a Razor, and made a quick call.


Everyone seemed happy, and everyone ate to their fill. Kate was surrounded by her friends; Cari, Lauren, Ashley, Sarah. She looked around, and noticed Mark sulking in the corner. He seemed impatient; and checking his phone he got up and left. Out of curiosity, Kate followed. Her friends noticed, and she used the excuse “bathroom”.
After squeezing through the crowded room Kate went into the hallway. Mark was out of sight; the hallway was dark and empty. She turned to head back, and then suddenly stopped when a door opened a few yards behind her. She turned around and saw a dark skinned man step out, big and muscular, carrying a white suitcase. She immediately knew he was an imposter, he was not an SFTCP member. The man caught sight of her, cursed, and ran. Kate screamed. Almost immediately, the dining room door flew open and Jack burst out and saw the dark-skinned man running and sprinted after him. Kate went back to the dining room, shaken.
“Mrs. Arrens are you OK?” asked Carina. Everyone in the room was silent, staring at her. Oh, great,  she thought.

Jarhwill had hidden all eight radios. He’d just backed out of a room, into the dark and silent hallway, when he saw the girl. Crap. He ran, towards the nearest exit. Behind him, the girl screamed. A young man dashed into the hallway, and bolted after him.

Jack chased the imposter out and off the pier. South pier was completely empty, the sky navy blue. Dusk was approaching, the cool sea air flowing ashore, and the only sounds came from the two men running into the hills. Jack thought about turning back, but he knew what the white case was. He needed to catch the spy to find all the transmitters.
They crashed through the thick brush. Soon Jack could only hear the man ahead of him. He was being led north, the chase taking them half a mile into the heart of the island. Jack gave up, he was too far from the Journey now, and he could hear faint yells deeper in the woods. Jack stopped and checked his watch: it was five past eight. He started off back to the west road, when four other dark skinned men burst into the open. Moonlight reflected off their guns, all of which were aimed at him.
Jack backed away slowly, raising his hands. His foot hit a baseball-sized stone in the dark, and he swiftly ducked, grabbing the rock and tossing it at the nearest assailant. They opened fire, and Jack rolled into the bushes. He scrambled up and ran for his life, taking cover in a wheat field. A minute later, with the men pursuing him, he could make out the road ahead. Shots filled the night.
Suddenly, Jack fell, a piercing pain in his left thigh. He’d been shot! He stumbled up, limping as fast as he could to the road, only thirty yards away. The yells and gunshots quieted behind him, so he took a moment to inspect the damage. He saw a deep slash in his leg, and he sighed in relief- the bullet had only grazed him.
He stood again and stumbled forward. When he finally reached the road he sat, resting his legs. Then he was blinded as headlights appeared up the road. Seconds later a yellow hummer pulled up.
“Hey Jack, are you okay? Do you need a ride?” the driver called.
“A ride would be very nice, Zorray” Jack answered. Andrew Zorray, six-feet with thick curly black hair, looked down at Jack. Seeing blood, he jumped out of the hummer and hurried to help Jack into the passenger seat.
“You’re not bleeding too badly, that’s good,” Zorray commented. It was warm inside the Hummer, compared to the cold outside. The interior was black leather, and a digital screen showed it was 8:20. The Journey would leave in ten minutes.
“Kalvin called, and told me about the spy. Then I heard gunshots. Did he shoot you, or were there others?” Zorray inquired.
“There were more, at least six of them. They were all Africans- and there’s only one group like that on this island.”
“Damn, Kalvin’s not going to like this…” Zorray muttered.
“You know what this means, right?” Jack asked, his mind racing. How did he find out though? He thought. We’ve kept it a complete secret. Not even half the team knows what’s actually going on!
“We need to leave now,” said Zorray. “I’ll call the bridge.”
Driving down the shore road, they turned round a hill and the Journey came into sight. South Pier was buzzing with people scurrying around the deck like mice, cutting lines and preparing for departure. As they drove closer they could hear loud clanking as the anchor was raised. Sailors began loading up the boarding ramps as well. Zorray stopped at the edge of the deck, searching for Kalvin.
“Andrew! Just drive into the cargo hold,” Kalvin ordered, clearing a path for the hummer to drive through.
“We’re going into the V.E.S.; it’s down the ramp in that opening there,” Said Jack. Zorray carefully maneuvered the hummer towards the big doorway, and slowly went down the curving ramp into the V.E.S. The Vehicle and Equipment Storage chamber held all of the Journey’s supplies, except for fuel and water, which were held in large tanks throughout the ship. Inside it was very dark, the hummer’s headlights shining dimly on the metal floor and walls. Jack could see hundreds of crates and several vehicles- there were three jeeps, an M54 Austrian covered truck, and two motorcycles. They could hardly see the ceiling twenty feet above.
They got out, and Zorray helped Jack go back up to the pier. William Carson saw them and strolled over. His eyes widened at the sight of Jack, bloody and limping.
“He got shot. Go get a doctor!” Zorray ordered. He led Jack into the Journey.

“Oh...my...god Jack!” Kaitlyn gasped when she entered the infirmary. Jack was sitting on a gurney, his left leg in a cast. Ten minutes before, Andrew Zorray had helped Jack aboard. One of the doctors had quickly cleaned and bandaged the wound. Kate had been shocked when she got the news and had rushed to see him. It made her realize just how important a factor Jack was in her life. Seeing him awake, and smiling, relieved her greatly.
“Today just isn’t my lucky day, is it?” Jack joked.
Kate was shaking. She could not believe so much had happened to Jack in just one day. She wasn’t an emotional person; she usually kept a her spirits high, but for once, Kaitlyn Arrens began to cry.
“Don’t worry; I’ll be better soon… I can still walk,” Jack said. Kate moved closer and they embraced, both trying to comfort the other.
“We haven’t even left and you’re already a… a cripple.”
“It makes no difference to me.”
There were many voices in the hallway and the sound of moving feet as workers headed to the engine room. Outside, South Pier was empty. They were leaving. A minute later the engines started up, and the Journey moved backwards. The large vessel moved quietly away from the shore.

Marci was pleased; he’d delayed the Journey, the bugs were hidden successfully, and a member of Kalvin’s SFTCP team had been injured.
He had left his hidden hill-top base twenty minutes before and had hiked down to the eastern shore, on the other side of the island. His ship, the Walker, was a steamer anchored just off shore. On the beach were three motorboats, and the rest of Marci’s team- a group of two hundred men total. It had taken the past month to gather this team- a group twice the size of Kalvin’s. He also had two other boats; the Walker, being the biggest at 200 feet with four floors, and also the 150-foot three-story McKlay, a research ship;  and the 120 foot Jetstar, a fishing boat. He had more boats, people, equipment, and weapons- in all he thought he could beat Kalvin.
The speedboats on the shore were the next part of his plan- they would chase the Journey, try to drive it off course and cause as much damage to the vessel as possible. This would hopefully give Marci enough time to set sail and follow. He strolled over and gave his orders. Without hesitation the men jumped into the boats and set off. Marci watched as they disappeared around the tip of the island.
Marci’s cell phone rang. It was the captain of the Walker, probably asking for orders. He answered and said, “Truadis, it is time.”


The Journey was moving from Dorris at 30 Knots (equal to about 35 miles per hour). There was no sign of any other ships in the area. Almost all lights onboard were off, and the only sound came from the humming of the engines and the ship’s wake.
Jack could stand, and watched as the island passed by, scanning the water for other boats. He was outside on the top deck. Everything was black, except for the many distant lights of Cadigan. He could barely make out the tower that was the CSL. He wore a leather coat and new night goggles.
For a summer night it was very cold. Dorris was covered in fog, which made it difficult for Jack to see, even with night vision. The fog also caused the low temperature. However, there was a major benefit from the low cloud cover: it made it easier to slip away in the night. No one would know they had left.
There was the faintest creak as the starboard stairwell door opened. William Carson came out, quietly closing the door behind him.
“Seen anything yet?” William asked, strolling over.
“Nothing.”
“Kalvin says you can come in, I’ll take your place,” William offered.
“I’m fine,” said Jack. They stood silent for a few minutes, scanning the dark water.
“What is that?” William exclaimed. He pointed towards a white object far out on the water. Jack squinted, the checked with his goggles. He snorted.
“Bird,” he said.
“Oh.” William sighed, embarrassed. “I’ve always wanted one of those,” he added, tapping the goggles. Jack chuckled and watched the bird. It looked like a pelican; it had a fat little body and a bag-like beak. The bird ruffled its feathers and took off.
“I see something!” William said, a few minutes later.
“Shh!” Jack whispered. He looked in the direction William was pointing. With the night vision he could see it: a red speedboat. He looked at the passengers- all were African. And they had guns.
“Go to the bridge; notify Kalvin,” Jack ordered, “they are coming.”
William hurried off, While Jack continued to watch. There were two boats now, both heading right towards the Journey. He thought he could recognize one of them, the man he had chased. He felt the Journey speed up, and William soon rejoined him.
“Did I miss anything?” William asked him jokingly.
“No,” Jack answered, “but they are following. I think they suspect that they’ve already been spotted. Also, they have guns. We should expect an attack soon.”


Ten minutes later, the attack began. The Journey was already fifteen miles offshore. The people watched as the motorboats drew alongside the Journey. Then they opened fire.
They used sub-machine guns, spurting bullets randomly. The shots were mostly aimed at the windows, in an attempt to cause as much damage as possible. A third boat also arrived and started shooting, but all three quickly ceased fire, watching in dismay as the rounds thudded off the bullet proof glass.
Jack chuckled; he now was definitely glad he’d convinced Kalvin to reinforce the windows. A commotion of yells and rushing was heard from the stairwell, and a score of people came out on deck, all carrying weapons.
“Now it’s our turn!” William exclaimed, calling down to the attackers. They began firing again, this time at the deck. William ducked and Jack backed away as bullets filled the air around him. The crew returned fire.
The battle went on. In the dark it was difficult to aim, but all rounds fired from the Journey were aimed at the motorboats’ engines. They knew it would immobilize the attackers, and no one would have to be killed. Then, the Journey would be free to sail away. Kalvin was last to come up the stairs, panting and carrying a huge cylinder.
“This should drive them off!” Kalvin exclaimed.
“A Rocket Launcher!? Where the hell did you get a rocket launcher” Jack yelled as Kalvin hefted the RPG to the rail.
“I know a guy alright.’ Kalvin said with a mischievous look on his face.
“Kalvin, we don’t want to kill them!”
Kalvin laughed. “It won’t—just watch.” He loaded the weapon, aimed, and fired.
BOOOOM! The explosion hit the rear of the nearest boat, flipping it forward. The passengers were flung high and into the water. All firing ceased.
“Two, Three, Four—all survived!” William reported, counting the bodies swimming for the other boats. Then the attackers turned around and headed back for Dorris. There were plenty of cheers; and also a few groans from the younger crew.
“Alright, fight’s over. Let’s go in.” Jack announced.
“Agreed!” muttered William. The crowd shuffled back to the stairwell. Jack took a last look at the burning remains of the first boat, then followed, and proceeded to the bridge.


The Journey’s bridge was packed with workers. Three tables were pushed together, a giant map laid out. The Navigator, Zachary Martinez, hovered over it. Harrison was at the wheel, Jordan Carson at the radio. Kalvin was at a desk, inspecting the crushed remains of a transmitter. A hammer lay beside him.
         The lights had all been turned back on. On a radar screen three dots were shown moving quickly away from the center.
         “They’re already six miles away; I don’t think they’re coming back,” William reported.
         “Who?” Jordan wondered aloud. “Who is behind all of this?”
         “I think I know exactly who it is” Kalvin announced, standing. The room went quiet.
         “There is only one man in CSL who works with so many Africans. I am positive that it is my own rival: Eskal.”
“Marci?” William gasped.
“Of course. Are there any other Eskals that I would know? He is my competitor, and this is a new challenge with an Amazing prize.”
“But he’s not like that; he wouldn’t kill anyone!”
“It’s the cure, William. Anyone would cause death to gain life.” Jack explained. Kalvin went to the window, looking out into the night.
“What did they do to my ship?” he asked. A mechanic, Travis Jarling, looked at a video screen. He had recorded the battle—cameras were installed all over the ship.
“Looks like no real damage sir, the ship is fine.” Travis reported. Kalvin had huge reasons to be upset: 1) he was in another race against his rival, 2) he had just fought a battle, and 3) the total cost of the Journey was over $500 million.
The Journey was originally a passenger ship built in 1979. In the late 90’s it was sold to a Californian Marine Agency. During the great migration of scientists to the “safe zones”- isolated islands like Dorris- Kalvin bought the Journey for $42 million to carry him and all of his possessions. After years of repair, and a major remodeling in the spring of 2030, the value of the ship had risen by 1100 percent. The $468 million payed for the bullet-proof glass, new engines, interior, all of the equipment, furniture, entertainment, etc. It was nearly all of Kalvin’s life earnings.
“At least we are safe for now.” Harrison replied. Kalvin snorted. Everyone was silent, solemnly watching the last bits of Dorris disappear over the horizon.

“And so the Hunt begins…” said Jack.