“Well, not much for today… That’s all I’ve got,” said Flynn, lifting up his sack with just a few cans and bottles in it.
Mike looked back at Big Al and stepped closer to the raft, eyeing greedily the booze in the sack. “Y’know I’ve gotta confiscate all that scavvy stuff in there, don’t ya?”
“I know, Mikey. Sorry… I mean Officer Foley!” Flynn handed him the sack.
Mike grabbed the sack and hid it quickly between a stack of tires. “Come pick up your bag tomorrow.”
“No problem. Can we go now?” Flynn asked as he sat back on the car seat.
“C’mon kid, y’know the deal… I’ve gotta inspect your raft.” Mike pointed his head back at the Archipelago. “They never stop watchin’!”
Flynn stood up and waved at the city.
“Who ya wavin’ at, ya fool?” Mike barked.
“My dad, of course!” replied Flynn, proudly. “He’s watching from the East Tower.”
“Ah…” said Mike, making a dismissive gesture with his hand, “…he’s watchin’, but seein’ nothin’! Your daddy’s blind as a bat, Perry boy!”
“What did you say?” Flynn glared at the man.
But Officer Foley didn’t answer. He was tugging at the swiping device. This was nothing more than a slack wire lying in the water between the two check-point platforms and underneath the passing vessels. If anyone tried to smuggle stuff attached under their raft or boat, the wire would catch it. He rolled the crank and the wire tightened.
“Run your crappy raft over this, Perry boy.”
Still glaring at the man, Flynn pushed on the pedals. The Seeker glided smoothly over the wire and stopped. There was nothing underneath. Mike grabbed a piece of pipe and banged it on the drums supporting Flynn’s raft, listening. Empty barrels sounded one way, those stuffed with hidden goodies differently. Satisfied with his inspection, he leaned on the pipe.
“What was that about my dad?” asked Flynn again. He wasn’t going to let anyone insult his father.
“Don’t ya look at me that way!” Mike sneered at him. “I just happen to know a thing or two ‘bout your old man, that’s all…”
“You know nothing about him!” Flynn yelled back. “See for yourself!” He was now pointing in the direction of the Watch Tower. “That’s my dad there… signaling to me. Look!”
And sure enough, a sharp flash of light could be seen coming from the top of the East Tower… But Officer Foley didn’t seem impressed. “Oh, I know everythin’, about everybody,” he said. “People are talkin’, you know…”
“What are they saying, then?”
“True, your daddy’s been the best Watchman for a long, long time, but I’ll bet ya good money he’ll be on the List this year… and we’ll be sayin’ bye-bye to him at the Departure Ceremony!”
“Watch it, Mikey!” Flynn stepped forward, his fists clenched.
“Hah! You watch it, kid!” Mike lifted the pipe and waved it at Flynn.
There was a loud cough behind his back. Big Al was awake.
“Hey Mike, what’s goin’ on here?” Big Al grunted, rubbing his swollen eyes with a fat knuckle.
“Nothin’ much Al, just the Perry boy and his pal passin’ through,” said Mike over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off Flynn. “They’re empty handed as usual… Useless kids! Ain’t never gonna be good scavvies, you know.” He was laughing now. “Off ya go, boy!” he said to Flynn. “Or I’ll board your piece of junk and take a proper look at it.”
Flynn spat in the water, then stepped back and took his seat next to Tony. His friend was pale and clammy, his breathing hard. “It’s OK,” Flynn said and pushed on the pedals. The Seeker lurched forward, peeling quickly away from the Customs platform.
“What’s up with your buddy there, eh?” Mike shouted after them. “He don’t look too good to me, either…. Might be joinin’ your daddy on the Departure List! Think I’ll put a wager on Romero with my bookies… Make me some money, he will, hah!”
“Don’t pay any attention to him… And don’t look back!” Tony whispered to Flynn. “The guy’s just a jerk!” He closed his eyes, trying hard not to think about what Officer Foley had just said.
“I know!” said Flynn and pushed furiously on the pedals.
The raft sped up towards Lower Side Manhattan… or whatever was left of it.
THREE
What remained of Manhattan was a strange sight indeed… Only the tallest buildings were left standing, with their last ten or twenty stories left sticking out of the water. Everything else was submerged, lost a long time ago. The new calendar said they were in the year 0055 now… and it stated the day of the Flood as Day One. Very few people remembered how long ago that day really was… Nobody really talked about the past, about the Big Wave… or the Flood Virus and the awful deaths that came in its wake. It made no difference. Most people had chosen to forget… Collective amnesia was a coping skill, a way to deal with the nightmare of what had happened. People’s lives had changed forever, but life had to go on somehow… What New York had lost under water was added on top of the surviving buildings. Defying the laws of gravity, new structures rose up like giant porous mushrooms from all rooftops, transforming the once familiar look of the Manhattan skyline.
Flynn’s raft was gliding through Midtown, which had all but disappeared after the Flood. It had become part of the new ocean, completely disconnecting the Upper Side from the Lower. Nothing but the tops of a few buildings remained, dotting the water like little islands. They now supported the crude vertical columns of the bridges erected above them, and the cable-car system that operated between the two sides of the Archipelago.
And right down the middle of that stretch of water ran the Archipelago’s life support system: the Van Zandt Water Pipeline. Made out of thousands of floating barrels, it swayed on the surface like a gargantuan snake, delivering fresh water from the Upper to the Lower Side. And of course, no one could get near it… It was the third most guarded structure in the city, right after the Van Zandt Building and the Van Zandt Desalination Plant… But that didn’t stop people from trying to breach its perimeter… Every now and then, Flynn would hear about yet another raid on the Pipeline… Driven by desperation, people would try to sneak in at night, punch holes in the pipes and fill up their containers with fresh water. Some risked their lives for themselves and their families, others stole so they could sell, or trade this most precious of commodities. Most were caught and killed on the spot. Very few succeeded and got away.
Flynn glanced at Tony, who had dozed off on the seat next to him, still clutching the new inhaler bottle. A deep crease of worry appeared on Flynn’s forehead as he watched his friend sleep. Tony’s breathing was shallow, but steady. He looked peaceful, almost happy… the way he used to be… when his lungs were working just fine… Mikey’s words were still ringing in Flynn’s ears, and they made his stomach twist into a painful knot. Officer Foley had spoken of the List and the Departure Ceremony that always followed! Flynn had not thought about this event for almost a year, and now that day was creeping up on them again… The Government would be gearing up to retire the Archipelago’s “dead weight”, drawing up the annual List… Everyone knew that this list was made up of people who were too old to contribute to the community, or too sick and beyond medical help. Tony could be one of them! And then Flynn began to worry about his own father. He wondered how old Alan Perry was… Could he be that old? Was Officer Foley just making it up, or was his father really losing his eyesight… unable to do his job anymore? Had someone on the Upper Side noticed and recorded this? Flynn shook his head, forcing these dark thoughts away to the back of his mind.