Chapter 38
Solomon’s hand was a bar of fire chained to the rest of his shivering body. The ferry was coming down from north of them; he could hear it and see it now that they were tucked into the water beside the dock that was lit up by the civilian world it jutted out from. He would hear ambulance sirens constantly while inside the camp. He could hear them even more clearly now. He thought there were some people out walking along the river’s edge, but it was hard to tell given that he was at least ten feet below them in the water.
It had to be close to 0500 hours now. They would be catching a ride with the first early morning commuters, and hopefully, there wouldn’t be many of them. If anyone saw them, it would be back to re-education for them. Solomon was hoping there would be something on the outside of the ferry for them to hold on to while it pulled them forward. Better that than risk climbing up into the boat.
It was still too dark out to be able to make out anything but the vague outlines of the ferry, but he could tell it was coming closer by how much the water around them was moving up and down, pushed out by the ferry until he was having to rapidly tread water to stay afloat as it pulled into place next to the dock. His shoulders relaxed when he saw ladder rungs on the hull. He even allowed himself a brief smile when he listened and heard only one, maybe two, people walking up the metal ramp to get into the ferry.
But then he looked at Wilson. He could tell at once that Wilson wasn’t in good shape. Whatever burst of adrenaline had given him the strength to climb the fence had since faded. Was Wilson even going to be able to hold on to the rungs while the ferry pulled them forward? For that matter, was he? The ferry’s wake was strong enough for Solomon to wonder whether it was going to go faster than he’d originally thought.
They both had enough in them to swim the few feet to the ladder rungs. But Wilson didn’t stop there; he started to climb up. Solomon followed. Maybe Wilson was also worried the ferry would be too fast for them to hold on to the rungs while in the water. Thank God it was a warm May night. It would not have been fun climbing up from the water otherwise, to say the least.
Slipping over the rail into a tiny outdoor deck, Solomon was able to see that most of the ferry was taken up by an indoor compartment, the door to which was less than two feet away, facing the railing they had just climbed over. There was a set of metal stairs next to the door leading to what he thought was an open-air seating area. Finally, there was a chest of some sort tucked right up against the back railing. He opened it to see a few life jackets pushed inside.
He met Wilson’s sunken gaze, and then looked at the chest again. There was only enough room inside it for one of them. The other would have to go back into the water to hide. But the way the ferry was starting to go already, it was going to be a matter of minutes before it got too fast to hold on while in the water.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
Solomon had an idea though. It was risky, but everything was these days. It was either risk and die or don’t risk and die anyway. “Give me your rope, then get in,” he said to Wilson, gesturing at the life jacket chest. Wilson handed it to him at once, and Solomon climbed back over the railing to the rungs. They were both just in time – he could hear the door to the deck they were standing on open as he clung to the lowest rung with his right hand, his body half-submerged.
He gasped as he forced his left hand to cooperate, but he managed to do a handcuff knot, tying his right hand to the rung at his wrist. His grip tightened as the ferry began racing through the choppy waters, its engines churning. He fought to hold on. The river surged all around him, threatening to rip him away from the ladder rung. The waters lashed against his body, and with each crashing wave he gritted his teeth and clung tighter. A deafening rush filled his ears, drowning out all other sounds, as the world became a wet blur of swirling chaos.
Then Solomon felt his grip wrenched free, and his body violently yanked downward. He could feel the immense force of the water pulling him underneath the ferry, dragging him into the river’s depths. Panic surged through him as he struggled against the powerful current, his heart pounding in his chest. The rope around his wrist was still connected to the ladder rung, but it was coming loose in the worst way possible, keeping him tied up with enough slack that in the underwater darkness he couldn’t immediately find the rung again.
Desperately Solomon tried to loosen the knot around his wrist, but between the turbulent waters and his left hand still out of commission, it was impossible. So with every ounce of strength left in him, he pulled himself upward, using the rope still around his wrist as leverage. His muscles ached, and his lungs burned for air. Was he going to make it? Was his risk going to pay off? He was beginning to think not. He could feel the ferry slowing down above him, but the water was in his mouth, his nostrils, his throat, and he was no longer struggling.
Then he felt a tug on his wrist, as if someone was pulling on the rope that was tied to it, as if someone was pulling him out.
***
Solomon woke up retching. His ribs ached, and Wilson was kneeling next to him, rolling him onto his side so he could finish throwing up. He didn’t think they were on the ferry anymore; it felt solid and still beneath him. After he was done vomiting up about a gallon of river water, he put his head down as if he were hugging the ground. He closed his eyes. He had been awake for almost twenty-four hours straight. If Wilson let him, he would go to sleep right there on whatever these pebbles were that he was on top of right now.
But Wilson apparently didn’t think this was the best place for him to catch his breath. He was pulling Solomon up by the arm. “On your feet, soldier,” he said, then pointed ahead at a jungle of steel and concrete, towering skyscrapers looming above, their windows reflecting the muted hues of a soon-to-come dawn. “We have to get through that, and fast.”
Solomon staggered to his feet and followed Wilson forward, his feet shuffling against the pavement as they began passing through streets lined with garbage bags piled chest-high. They weren’t safe yet, not in any sense of the word, but for the first time in a long time, he let himself think about his promise to make it back to Adah as long as he was alive. I’m coming, he told her silently. Just wait a little bit longer. I will be home as soon as I can.