In the middle section of the deck stood a thatched hut that had been constructed with bamboo and palm leaves. Inside the shack was a small gas burner that the crew would sometimes use to cook their meals, but on this particular trip the whole ship’s kitchen had been left unused.
Franklin Alexander groaned with discomfort as he sat up from the small pallet inside the hut and stretched his arms. It was late afternoon according to his wristwatch, and he had been holed up in this dingy little room during the whole trip. The ever-present smells of rotten fish, coagulated motor oil, and old bamboo combined with the pungent salty sea air nauseated him, but he was willing to make sacrifices in order to get the scoop his paper wanted.
He had tried to sleep the moment they snuck him onto the boat, yet the constant drumming noises of the old diesel engine and the ever-moving sea prevented it. All he could do was close his eyes and try to get some rest, even though it wasn’t enough. His discomfort felt like an elephant sitting on his head and shoulders, and the only thing keeping him going was the anticipation towards the upcoming evening, when they would be close enough to get to shore.
Hearing the sounds of footsteps on the wooden deck nearing the hut, Franklin rubbed his tired eyes awake. The life vest and inflatable dinghy lay at the opposite end of the wooden pallet, and he hoped he wouldn’t have to jump for it when night came.
Vaikom Menon poked his head into the hut’s interior. He still wore the same clothes as he had over the past two days, though he now stood barefoot on the deck. “How are you doing?”
Franklin gave him a faint smile while rubbing the back of his sore neck. “I’m alright, thank you.”
Vaikom carried an old plastic coffee flask in his right hand while stepping into the hut. Taking off the top which doubled as a cup, he poured the black liquid into it before handing it over to the foreigner. “Here is something that might help.”
Franklin nodded as he accepted the cup and took a sip. The coffee was stale and lukewarm, but he needed it. “Thanks, mate.”
“You are welcome.”
Franklin downed the rest of the cup’s contents before handing it back to the other man. “How are things going so far? I’ve seen quite a number of other boats going near us, it looks like they were pleasure craft.”
Vaikom nodded. “They all seem to be from the resort, but they have gone farther out it seems.”
“Is that normal?”
“It should not be,” Vaikom said. “We are in an area that is much deeper than the reefs these other boats should be going to.”
“Perhaps they suspect us?”
“It is possible. However, they have no authority to stop us, and they have not even tried to contact us.”
Franklin scratched the stubble on his chin. He hadn’t had time to shave, and the accumulated sweat on his clothing had begun to stink. “Have you thought about what we’ll be doing if the resort people try to stop us at the beach?”
“There are about a dozen of us,” Vaikom said. “I’m sure at least one of us will get inside the resort. Did you not say you have a partner inside?”
“I tried to call him before we left, but I didn’t get an answer.”
“We are certain the media people will be there,” Vaikom said. “I heard they are bringing in a boat from Kochi, and it will arrive at the island by this afternoon. The local press will not record us, but any of the Western ones surely will.”
“That’s fine, what I’m thinking of is—”
Vaikom held his hand up, interrupting him. They could both hear the shrill sounds of a speedboat’s outboard motor, and it seemed to be coming closer.
Franklin tensed up. “What is it?”
“Stay here,” Vaikom said as he quickly walked out of the hut, unfurling the cloth flap by the entryway which served as a door.
Franklin continued to sit on the pallet and peeked through the loose bamboo paneling as he heard the speedboat coming very close. Vaikom began conversing in Malayalam with two people in the smaller craft, and Franklin couldn’t understand a single word they were saying. The conversation between the two vessels continued for a few more minutes before he heard the speedboat revving up her outboard motor and its diminishing whine indicated the other boat was finally moving off. He quickly heard other voices belonging to Vaikom’s communist friend Muli and the other would-be protestors engaging in an animated conversation before things became quiet once again.
When Vaikom reentered the hut, there was a mild look of surprise on his face.
“What was that about?” Franklin asked.
“It seems one of their guests along with an employee went missing last night in a boat,” Vaikom said. “All the other vessels of the resort are looking for them.”
Franklin was intrigued. “Did they give you their names?”
The other man shook his head. “They just described two foreigners. One British employee and an American guest, a girl. We told them we haven’t seen any other boat.”
“Do ships like that go missing here a lot?”
“Sometimes a few fishing vessels in the archipelago are unaccounted for a number of days, weeks even,” Vaikom said. “But this is because they have no radio and it usually happens during the time of monsoons. I can see even the small boats of their resort have a radio, so this is very peculiar.”
The adrenaline began pumping into Franklin’s veins as he forgot his discomfort over the trip. I hope Quentin is on this. It would be another good story if we could interview the family of the girl who’s missing too. “Is there a way we could call this in?”
“No, I already told you our boat has no radio.”
Franklin bit his lip. Lemuria has got satellite internet and a cell relay tower for sure, so I need to contact Rebecca and Quentin the moment we get into range. “We need to get there as soon as possible, mate. Can we go any faster?”
“We’re going as fast as we can. Be patient and start blowing on your inflatable boat. I promise you we’ll get the chance to make it onto the island very soon.”
34
HE ONCE THOUGHT OF the place as heaven on earth, a time when his family’s problems were seemingly resolved, and they would all return to California strengthened and united as one. Only now it seemed that a dark fate had intervened, and Nick Dirkse’s world had been shattered.
When Scott came back to the guest cottage and showed him what he had found, Nick took a look and immediately demanded to speak with both the general manager and the chief of security for the entire resort, only to be told that they were both in important meetings and would come by later. After he had a talk with Cathy, they both waited anxiously in the posh living room of the guest bungalow, their worries and frustration steadily intensifying as each second wore on.
Cathy’s chin trembled as she stared out into the dusk. Room service had been ordered, but she could barely eat a morsel. Her left hand was wrapped tightly around her husband’s right elbow as they sat together on the couch.
Nick cursed as his fingers kept tapping the keyboard of the laptop on the coffee table in front of him. “The damn bandwidth is slow now,” he muttered. Nick suspected that the resort was deliberately throttling his internet speed, but he didn’t tell his wife, for it looked like Cathy was about to crack.
Scott came out of his bedroom after a shower and a change of clothes. “Are we going out to the restaurant for dinner?”
Cathy got up, walked over and placed her hands on the boy’s shoulder. “Let’s just eat here. I’ll order more room service.”