Vladimir Todorov
ARCHIPELAGO N.Y.
(Flynn)
ONE
New York City, Year 0055.
Drenched in sweat and struggling to breathe, Tony Romero felt a sharp pain shoot up his right leg. The boy knew his thigh muscle was going to cramp at any moment now. It was a given. He’d been working the Seeker’s oxygen pump for so long. Pressing on the pedal with his foot for a good twenty minutes… maybe more… He wasn’t sure… But it felt like hours had passed since the oxygen supply cord had last sounded its shrill little rattle. The rattle was attached to the side of his scavenger raft, and it was his cue to pump more fresh air down to the diving bell - a hundred feet below the water’s surface.
Tony was exhausted, but he knew the drill. Panting hard, and with his lungs on fire, there was no way he could stop! He had to keep pumping, until the rattle told him his diver had enough air to come back up to the raft… Besides, this was no ordinary diver scavenging the depths of the ocean below. This was his best friend, Flynn Perry. Tony was Flynn’s Crew Mate and his one and only lifeline back to safety. Besides, everybody knew a Crew Mate’s job was to look after his diving buddy… no matter what!
Grunting, Tony switched feet and glanced down at the pitiful rubber pump that had long forgotten its original color. How he wished they had one of those air compressors instead! The few that remained were servicing the big Industrial Salvage rafts. Fat chance of ever getting their hands on one, Tony thought bitterly, wiping the sweat from his face. Air compressors were precious commodities, impossible to have… forbidden for amateur scavengers like him and Flynn.
Suddenly, Tony began to cough, his lungs fighting to get as much of the thick, humid air inside them as they could. Gasping and retching, he doubled over. Somehow, Tony managed to keep his foot on the pump, willing Flynn to give him the signal to stop. And then, as his head began to spin into darkness, Tony’s desperate prayers were finally answered… He heard the rattle, and it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard! Stumbling back, Tony took his foot off the oxygen pump. His frail body collapsed on top of the battered car seat he had chained down to the stern of the Seeker. He lay there heaving, trying desperately to catch his breath. Slowly, his hand fumbled inside the pocket of his tattered, sun-bleached shorts and found the inhaler. Tony sucked on it hard once, shook the little bottle and sucked again. Frowning, Tony stared at the inhaler for a long moment, threw it in the water and slumped back on the seat.
The Seeker swayed gently under the glare of the scorching mid-afternoon sun. No other vessel could be seen across the large expanse of green tinged water. Tony and Flynn had sneaked out at the crack of dawn and dropped anchor at a spot far from the Archipelago’s official scavenging zones. It was so quiet here… peaceful… Tony listened to the sound of the little waves lapping against the row of empty oil drums and car tires that kept the raft’s platform afloat. The Seeker’s deck was cobbled together from all kinds of salvaged and recycled junk. A rusty car bonnet and sheets of corrugated metal were welded onto layers of ancient billboards. Pieces of plastic and broken road signs were held in place by frayed ropes and strips of duct tape. Luckily, Flynn had scavenged a well-preserved stash of this adhesive tape on a recent dive… enough to last them a full year if they used it wisely… Tony groaned. He had such a long list of items that needed repairing… and so little time!
Suddenly, Tony heard splashing in the water to the raft’s starboard, followed shortly by a familiar voice: “Ahoy, there!” A big mesh sack landed with a thud on the platform. Seconds later, a head popped up. Flynn Perry was finally back from his dive. Oversized goggles covered half his face, making him look like some monstrous sea creature that had risen from the bottom of the ocean. Flynn spat out a mouthful of water, grabbed the tube railing at the edge of the platform and pulled himself over. Rolling swiftly onto the deck, he sprang back on his feet without missing a beat. His tall, lean and tanned body threw a shadow across Tony’s almost skeletal frame.
“You OK, buddy?” Flynn took off his goggles, spraying droplets of cold water all over his Crew Mate and buddy.
“Yeah…,” Tony mumbled as he pushed himself up on the seat with a loud grunt. “Did you get any of my stuff, amigo?”
“It’s your lucky day!” Flynn unfastened his shoulder harness, dug into his diving satchel and took out a large plastic zipper bag. “Catch!”
Tony caught the bag and began to rummage inside, his fingers now trembling with excitement. He pulled out a vacuum-packed bottle, brushed away the algae slime covering it and squinted at the label. He glanced up at Flynn, his face full of disappointment. “This is cough syrup…”
“Keep looking!” Flynn gave him a quick reassuring smile.
Tony shoved his hand back in the bag and took out a few more well-sealed bottles. “Aspirin, Tylenol, multi-vitamins… these are all great finds, but…” He was now muttering to himself, turning the bag upside-down and shaking it, spilling all its contents onto the car seat. “Aha!” Tony whooped with joy as he spotted the two inhalers. His pale face had regained some of its color. “These should last me for a good while… Thanks, amigo!”
“There’s more of this stuff down below,” said Flynn. He was now taking more scavenged items from his satchel and lining them up on the seat next to Tony: a set of sealed scalpels, a pair of scissors, a bar of soap, a stethoscope… all vacuum-packed and undamaged. “The pharmacy is loaded! And it’s still virgin turf. No one’s found it yet.” With his satchel emptied, Flynn turned around and crouched over the big mesh sack. “We’ve got to come back tomorrow, Tony.” Flynn unfastened the sack with a happy grin on his face. “You know… get a few bigger bags and carry on scavv’ying the place, till we’ve picked it clean. And guess what! There’s a liquor store down there, too. Plenty of stuff to trade on the Black Market, eh! What do you say?”
There was no answer from Tony.
“What’s the matter?” Flynn asked, studying his friend over his shoulder.
Tony stared back at Flynn for a long moment before finally looking away. He fingered the big shark tooth that hung on a string around his neck. The tooth was from the great white Flynn had killed more than a year ago. Tony knew his friend had gone through a lot of trouble to give it to him… In fact, Flynn was lucky to be alive! The angry looking scar on Flynn’s forearm was a constant reminder of what could have happened…‘They say a shark’s tooth will give you strength,’ Flynn had told Tony back then… Well, it hadn’t! Tony knew he was becoming weaker with every passing day, losing strength instead of gaining any… He kept his hand over the tooth for another moment, before meeting Flynn’s eyes. “I think you should find yourself a new Crew Mate… You know… someone who’s strong… and healthy!” Tony said.
Flynn laughed. “You’re joking, right?”
“No, I’m dead serious, amigo! Don’t think I can do this anymore…”
Flynn grabbed a rusty soda can from the sack, scraped the black silt off with his diving knife and tossed it to Tony. “Here you go. That’ll cheer you up!”
The can landed in Tony’s lap. “No, it won’t!” Tony cried and slammed the can down on the seat without even looking at it. “Don’t you get it, amigo? I’m putting you at risk here… What if I’d passed out? Let you run out of air… on a deep dive like this…”
“Well, you didn’t!” Flynn had turned away from his friend and was now busy pulling a thick rope out of the water. “You’ll be fine, Tony! Now, stop with all that sorry talk and help me get the diving bell out.”