The boy squinted, held up two fingers. “Two day.”
Garza swore. “No lifeboats, no life vests, and at least five hundred people on board, not to mention animals and cars. What if the boat sinks?”
“Nothing like traveling with an optimist.”
The wind shifted and another light shower of soot from the diesel stacks dusted over them.
“Did you bring any food and water?” Gideon asked, suddenly apprehensive. “Or are we going to die of thirst as well as sunstroke?”
Garza reached down and unzipped his duffel, pulling out a plastic bag filled with food. “Help yourself.”
“I’m impressed. When did you buy this?”
“While you were napping after dinner. I had a feeling we might not want to eat the haute cuisine served in the ferry cafeteria.”
Gideon rummaged through the bag and took out a banana, chips, and a Fanta. He braced the umbrella and settled on his duffel with his makeshift lunch. “This isn’t so bad, really,” he said.
He wasn’t sure who he was trying to reassure more—Garza or himself.
The ancient ferry shuddered and smoked as they crawled southward. In time, the scattered towns gave way to an empty shore of vacant beaches and flat coral reefs, behind which rose the dark mountains of the great Eastern Desert of Egypt. It was the most desolate and fearful coastline Gideon had ever seen. As the heat of the day reached its peak, the ferry subsided into somnolence, no one stirring. It was hot but not brutally so—this was late March, after all—and a warm steady breeze blew across the open deck. Like the others, Gideon fell into a doze mostly as a way to make the time pass. He woke toward sunset, when everyone else began stirring, chattering, and breaking out dinners from burlap sacks and greasy cardboard boxes.
The sun hung low over the sea horizon, a crimson ball that cast a bloody light over the water. It set so fast it almost seemed to fall into the sea, plunging the world into an orange gloaming.
Garza sat up, rubbing his eyes.
“Dinner?” Gideon asked.
Garza rummaged in the bag and extracted some meat pastries, cheese, dates, and two bottles of warm Fanta, and they sat on their duffels eating and watching the sky darken into green and purple, as clear and empty as infinity itself.
“I must compliment you on your planning,” said Gideon, his mouth half full of pastry. “This is tasty.”
“If I’d known we’d be on a boat like this, I think I would’ve risked renting that car.”
“It’ll be over in another day and a half.”
Garza shook his head as he looked around. “This ferry is a bloody disaster waiting to happen.”
Their fellow passengers began to haul out battery-powered lights and Coleman lanterns, which glowed as the twilight deepened, lending the deck a festive air. The smell of spices and food wafted past. The stars winked in the deep sky above: a few at first, and then more and more, until a vast dome of stars arched over them, bisected by the Milky Way.
Gideon was amazed at how quickly the air cooled once the sun had set. After a noisy dinnertime, the ship quieted down again as one by one the passengers settled in for the night. The various lights went out and voices dropped to a murmur. Gideon rested his head against the soft end of his duffel and closed his eyes.
13
HE WOKE SOME hours later—it was hard to tell exactly how many—as a murmur of voices rose around him, shot through with a tone of alarm. He sat up, temporarily puzzled. The engines sounded different than before—ragged, higher-pitched.
Beside him, Garza sprang awake. “What the hell?”
Everyone was awake now, and lights were coming on. Something out of the ordinary was obviously happening. The ferry began to make a labored turn toward the west, the water churning out from underneath the hull. Gideon could see the pilot on the bridge, in the red glow of the dim bridge lights. He was gesturing vigorously at a subordinate, while other crew appeared to be rushing about, silhouettes moving against the dim background.
“That doesn’t look good,” Gideon said. He could see Garza’s face in the faint light, beaded with sweat. “Hey, are you all right?”
“Don’t worry about me,” said Garza brusquely. “What I want to know is, why is the boat turning so sharply?”
People were now on their feet, and the murmur had become a clamor of talk. One of the engines was now uttering a high-pitched roar, and then the sound abruptly ceased with a muffled bang, while the other engine continued to chug at a higher pitch.
“Son of a bitch,” said Garza, “is it my imagination, or is the deck starting to slant?”
“I believe you’re right.”
“Do you think…we’re sinking?”
“We turned toward shore,” Gideon said slowly. “I suppose it could be because we’re taking on water. If so, maybe the captain is hoping to ground the boat.”
Garza was silent.
“All these people…” Gideon looked around. Their fellow passengers were thoroughly alarmed, but as of yet there was no panic. “I wonder how many can swim?”
The boat shuddered as the single working engine struggled to move them forward. The deck was now clearly slanting.
“Those cars and things aren’t secured,” Gideon said. “That shit’s going to slide. We need to get ourselves on the high side.”
Garza remained silent.
“Let’s go! Hold on to your money and leave the rest.”
The canting deck was still only a few degrees from horizontal, and Gideon felt there was a good chance the captain could ground the ferry or seal the bulkheads to halt the taking on of water. They wound their way among excited groups of people on deck until they had reached the starboard rail. Gideon looked over. The bilge pumps were running like mad, dumping powerful streams of water from the hull openings. He could see the boat was taking on water faster than the pumps could empty it. What had happened? They hadn’t hit anything. Maybe the rotten hull had just given way. From their vantage point at the rail, he now had a better view of the bridge. He was shocked: it was empty. Where were the captain and crew?
As if on cue, he saw the captain exiting the companionway at deck level, moving in haste, followed by his crew. He watched as they scurried to a hatch that led, most likely, to the lower mechanical deck. They undogged it and disappeared, leaving it open. Going to work on the engine, perhaps, Gideon thought grimly, or to seal the bulkheads. It must be worse than it seemed. If the scow actually sank, they needed to come up with a plan to deal with that—now, before mob panic set in.
“We must be a couple of miles offshore,” he said to Garza. “Not too bad a swim, considering the water is warm and there don’t seem to be any currents or tides.”
“Right,” said Garza, voice tight.
“Of course, there might be sharks.”
“Sharks.”
Gideon took a deep breath. “Look, Manuel. The obvious thing is to swim away from the boat before it goes down, get clear. Then we swim westward until we reach shore. Just keep the North Star on your right.”
“On your right,” Garza repeated mechanically.
Gideon suddenly had a suspicion. The captain and crew weren’t going below to fix the engine. The captain would leave the bridge for one reason only: to abandon ship. He and the crew were probably headed for a lifeboat—the damn cowards.
He grabbed Garza by the arm. “Follow me.”
They pushed through the crowd, which was now fully aroused, milling around and shouting up at the bridge in confused and angry voices. More people were instinctually pressing toward the high side of the sinking boat.
They arrived at the open hatch and descended into diesel-stinking dimness. A few caged bulbs illuminated the companionway to the lower deck. They continued following the passage until they heard voices echoing from ahead. In the lead, Gideon slowed and approached a partly open bulkhead door, which he stopped to peer through. The captain and crew were at a boarding platform in the lower part of the hull, open to the calm sea. They were arguing over a small Zodiac hung on davits next to the platform. Seawater was already slopping into the boarding hatch as the vessel settled in the water. The argument was escalating, and in moments it broke out into a fight. There was the flash of steel, a scream of agony, and the captain fell. The crew swung the davits out and lowered the Zodiac into the water, then surged into it, now fighting against the overcrowding; another man was stabbed and fell overboard, then two more were beaten off and left on the platform as the engine roared to life and the Zodiac shot out into the dark sea.