Uncharted Journey (The Uncharted Series Book 6) Page 3

  Sybil leaned forward. “What about you?”

  “I already have one father to deal with and that’s plenty, thank you.”

  “No.” Sybil chuckled. “I meant what about you getting married again? You know, someday?”

  “I know what you meant, and no.”

  “Ever?”

  Eva stuffed Revel’s letter into her apron pocket and stood, her stomach uncomfortably full. She picked up her empty plate and Sybil’s to take them to the sink. “Never ever.”

  Chapter Four

  Bailey Colburn gripped the yacht’s rusted railing as the sun sank below the horizon, taking with it all hope of finding the Land. For two weeks she’d spent every heartbeat trying to reach these exact coordinates on this exact day. All that work and worry for nothing. Maybe she would get another chance next year.

  Yeah, right.

  Bailey’s iron stomach stayed steady as the repurposed charter yacht bobbed up and down in the choppy waters of the South Atlantic Ocean. The wind whipped her cropped hair into her vision as she glanced over her shoulder at the windows behind her. Four men’s silhouettes moved inside the yacht’s bridge.

  Professor Timothy Van Buskirk stepped close to the window. His fatherly eyes gazed out at Bailey from beneath the brim of his white bucket hat—his lucky hat he called it. He motioned for her to join him in the bridge. The corners of his gray mustache flattened in disappointment. She was grateful to Professor Tim for convincing his nephew, Micah, to bring them out here on one of his company’s yachts, but she had let them down.

  Never again would Micah Van Buskirk agree to sail to the middle of nowhere hoping to see a peaceful and pristine land suddenly appear like Atlantis rising out of the mist. Maybe if the world were like it was before the war, Micah would brush off this massive failure and raise his glass to searching for the Land again next year. But nothing was like it was before the war.

  Over the past several years, desperate nations had sent more bombs flying than a 2020 action movie. Between the battles, the water poisonings, and the plague, only a fraction of earth’s pre-war population was left. The fact that Bailey and her former professor made it to the middle of the South Atlantic to chase a fantasy was a miracle. And a waste.

  Wasted resources, wasted connections, wasted time. Micah would probably give Bailey an earful at dinner tonight. He hadn’t wanted to take time away from his humanitarian work of using the yacht to run medical supplies to remote islands in the South Atlantic, but he’d obliged his uncle’s request.

  At least, Professor Tim wouldn’t be upset with Bailey. He never was.

  No matter how the guys reacted tonight, this trip had been worth the shot. Trying to find the Land had let Bailey imagine a life worth living—a life of plentiful food, unpolluted water, simple pleasures, and maybe even connecting with her long-lost relatives.

  When she’d told Professor Tim about the Land’s existence, it had given him hope for his future too. And no matter how inconvenienced Micah acted by their request, he’d also been intrigued by the notion of a hidden land untouched by the third world war.

  Now, she’d disappointed all of them. She never should have believed a word Justin Mercer said, especially about his time spent in a hidden land settled in the 1860s by a group of peaceful American families—one of which she was supposedly related to. Justin said Bailey had family somewhere and that was all it took to get her to work for him.

  Turned out, Justin Mercer was a liar.

  The last ray of sunlight slipped below the watery horizon, abruptly ending the day. Diamond-bright stars punctured the clear black sky. And just like that, the day was gone along with her dream of a safe and simple life with the cousins she’d never known.

  As Bailey walked toward the ship’s bridge, Micah and his two South African crewmen stepped out to the deck. Both of the sun-bleached crewmen wore high-caliber handguns holstered to their sides. Bailey kept her gaze forward as she entered the bridge but watched the crewmen with her peripheral vision.

  Inside the bridge Professor Tim stood near the helm, holding his eyeglasses in one hand and rubbing the length of his nose with the other. He put his glasses back on and looked at Bailey in the same way he did the day he told her all Eastern Shore University classes were canceled until the war was over. And like that day, he’d waited until the room was empty so he could speak to her privately—a kindness often extended to the less fortunate.

  Well, she wasn’t a downtrodden foster kid anymore and hadn’t been for eight years. She could handle bad news. She could also take care of herself. She didn’t need pity, even from the only person left who cared about her.

  She pushed the shaggy ends of her sable hair out of her eyes and marched forward, speaking before Professor Tim had the chance. “Look, I know this is the correct location. I saw the Land on the satellite image on Justin Mercer’s computer. And he had evidence—the gray leaf tree saplings. You said yourself the saplings were unlike anything on the planet. You know the Land is out here.” Tim raised a halting hand, but she ignored it. “We just need to give it one more day. The Land will appear. I know it will.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I can feel it.”

  “You’re a scientist.” Tim lowered his chin to look at her over the rim of his glasses. “If you can’t see it or measure it or detect it, forget it.”

  “This is different. We’re exploring the unknown. The satellite image Justin showed me, the gray leaf tree, everything about the Land… it’s different from lab experiments.” She looked past Tim and out the bridge windows. Micah and the crewmen were working on the lighted deck. Everything beyond the yacht’s railing was black, but the ocean and sky were out there, and somewhere not too far away, was a hidden land.

  Or so she hoped.

  Reality’s despair wrestled with her heart’s desire. “The Land’s existence goes against our modern knowledge and believing Justin Mercer went against my better judgment, but the gray leaf tree saplings changed everything for me. The gray leaf is unclassifiable, miraculous if what Justin said about its medicinal property is true. I can’t give up on finding the Land. Not yet.”

  Tim tapped one of the computer screens embedded in the yacht’s instrument panel. Navigational readings appeared on the screen. “Even if it’s true and the Land is out there, the exact moment of the equinox has passed. The Land won’t be accessible again for another year, according to Mr. Mercer.” He looked up at her with kind but tired eyes. “We gave it our best shot. Micah knows these waters. He says we are in more danger of being pirated every hour we drift out here.”

  “Yes, and he also said the instruments were going berserk this afternoon.”

  “We must sail back to Tristan de Cunah before we run into trouble. I don’t want you kids getting hurt.”

  Bailey jabbed a thumb toward the window as the two crewmen walked across the yacht’s deck. “We will be fine as long as we have Armed and Dangerous with us.” She smiled playfully.

  The draw cord hanging from Tim’s lucky hat swung beneath his chin as he shook his head. Their inside jokes about the trigger-happy crewmen were over, as was their adventure. “Look Bailey, I’m sorry this didn’t work out. I wanted this for you as much—more maybe—than you wanted it for yourself. You deserve a better life… and to meet your relatives.” He tilted his head. “But hey, can’t a person make a family out of friends?”

  She nodded, acknowledging the end of their effort more than his question. “Thanks for trying.”

  He grinned slightly. “Thank you for trusting me with the secret of the Land.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously. This was the most fun I’ve had in years.” His grin faded. “The only fun I’ve had in years. It was worth it.”

  The bridge door opened. As Micah stepped inside, a blast of thunder cracked the sky above him, shaking the boat. The jolt threw him to the floor. Lightning burst across the clear night sky in every direction. The two crewmen hurried below deck, cursing
the sudden electrical storm.

  As bolts of virescent light ignited the sky, an eerie hum vibrated the yacht. The ship’s power went out, and the skin along Bailey’s neck prickled. The tight space in the bridge shrank even more in the dark. Suddenly, she felt like her five-year-old self locked in the closet again. Her fists lifted instinctively as if she were about to spar an unseen opponent. After a few seconds of darkness, a caged backup light flickered to life on the wall above the door, but she still wanted out of the shrinking space.

  Bailey lowered her guarding hands. “What’s going on?”

  Professor Tim knelt beside his nephew, whose face was wrenched in agony. “Micah! Are you all right?”

  Micah sucked in air through clenched teeth. “My arm. I think it’s broken.”

  The bridge door swung on its hinge as the boat pitched. The low hum intensified, rattling the floorboards. Bailey lunged for the door and closed it, but it didn’t muffle the sound. Her fingertips tingled as she touched the metal knob. Outside the windows specks of light popped in the air like fireflies spontaneously combusting. “Tim! You have to see this!”

  Tim sent her a concerned scowl from under the brim of his white hat. “Get away from the windows!”

  Thunder rumbled and a deafening snap resounded from deep within the ship. The bridge shook, buckling Bailey’s legs, but she didn’t lose her balance. “What’s happening?”

  Micah groaned as he forced himself to his knees, holding his crooked right arm against his body. Tim tried to stop him, but Micah crawled toward the instrument panel. “The lightning knocked out our electrical system.”

  Bailey braced a hand against the wall when one of the crewmen opened the door. He cursed as the lightning flashed again. “We’re taking on water down below!” Then he said to Micah, “We need to board the tenders!”

  Micah shook his head, his words stunted by pain. “It’s not safe out there.”

  As quickly as it had started, the lightning stopped. The ship’s floor stilled. Bailey scanned the darkness outside the windows. The specks of light flickering in the air dissolved.

  A brief wave of relief passed through the room, but before anyone spoke, the ship listed portside. The second crewman staggered into the doorway. “It’d be safer out there in a tender than it’s about to be in here. The hull is cracked.”

  While the four men argued about whether they should abandon the ship, something outside the windows caught Bailey’s attention. A full moon crested the earth directly ahead, and silhouettes of trees broke the horizon. “Land!” Bailey yelled, silencing the men. “Look, there is land! It has to be the Land!”

  She rushed out the bridge door, her excited heart pounding in her chest like it had when she won her first martial arts tournament. But something was odd. The moon appeared oval rather than round as though it had been stretched out. Before she could focus on it, a distinct and familiar scent filled the air. She inhaled deeply then looked back at Professor Tim. “Smell the gray leaf trees?”

  Tim’s jaw opened. He knocked the brim of his lucky hat a little higher, exposing his wrinkled forehead. As he stepped forward, the ship listed farther. Micah dropped against the wall with a groan.

  Tim snapped his gaze away from Bailey and supported his nephew to keep him upright. “We have to get off this ship. Micah, go to the portside tender with the crewmen. I’ll delete our navigational data and get the medical supplies then take the starboard tender to meet you on the shore.”

  “No,” Micah protested. “I’m responsible for this vessel. I should be the last one off.”

  Professor Tim turned to the instrument panel and started flipping switches. “Get to the tender so you aren’t hurt any worse than you already are. I’ll meet you on the shore with the supplies. Just go!”

  Micah looked down at his wounded arm. The lower half was swelling. “Fine. We’ll go.” He nodded once to his crewmen, and they followed him to one of the ship’s two tenders.

  Bailey thought of the backpack in her cabin below deck. This morning, she’d packed it with the few possessions she would need if she had to make a quick exit, just as she had as a teen when she suspected she would be shuffled between foster homes without notice. Instead of following Micah and the crewmen to the tender, she took one last look at the misshapen moon then dashed down the narrow steps and pushed open the door to her cabin.

  The black waterproof backpack waited for her at the foot of her bed. She checked the compartments: a change of clothes, multi-blade pocketknife, bar of soap, stormproof matches, compass, thermal blanket, hand-crank flashlight, water bottle with filter, binoculars, rain poncho, and the well-worn copy of The New Testament her coach gave her in eighth grade. Her hiking shoes were zipped in the shoe compartment at the bottom of the backpack, and the sunglasses she’d taken from Justin Mercer’s desk were safely tucked inside the front pocket.

  “Land, here I come.” She fastened the zippers, strapped on the backpack, and hurried above deck.

  The crewmen were readying the tender to be lowered to the water. Micah was already in the small boat, holding his broken arm across his chest. When he saw Bailey, he waved her over with his good hand. “Hurry! We’re about to leave.”

  She held up a finger to him then stepped into the bridge to speak to Professor Tim. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Not quite.”

  “Let me tell the guys to leave and I’ll stay with you.”

  Tim was stuffing a box of syringes into his pack. “My insulin is in my cabin.”

  “I can get it.”

  “No, I’ll get it. You go with them. I want to know you’re safe.” He slid a handheld two-way radio into his bag and offered a second radio to her. “Here, put this in your backpack. Micah is in too much pain to be dependable, and I don’t trust Armed or Dangerous. Use the radio to contact me once you’re on the beach but only if there is an emergency.”

  “A bigger emergency than being on a sinking ship?”

  He chuckled once. “Go! I’ll meet you on the shore… on the Land.”

  “Yes, on the Land. Be safe.”

  He pointed to the black embroidered giraffe on the side of his white bucket hat. “I’m wearing my lucky hat. I’ll be fine.”

  “Lucky? Some scientist you turned out to be.” She flashed him a quick smile then gripped the shoulder straps of her backpack and dashed to the tender.

  The two crewmen worked a pulley system to lower the tender into the water. The side of the narrow watercraft thumped against the listing ship as the crewmen sat at either end of it with Micah and Bailey facing each other in the center.

  Bailey ran her hand under the plastic seat until she found a life vest. She offered it to Micah.

  He shook his head. “If we capsize, I’d swim better without that.”

  “You only have one useable arm.”

  When he didn’t reply, she held the life vest on her lap and studied the moonlit coastline ahead. “We’re not far from shore.”

  The crewman sitting at the aft revved the outboard motor and guided the boat toward the beach. The other crewman kept one hand on an oar and the other on his holstered gun. Bailey caught his eye. “If this is the Land, the people who live here are peaceful. Don’t freak them out with that thing.”

  He grunted. “And if this isn’t your Land?”

  “It is the Land.” Her toes curled inside her rubber reef shoes. “What else could it be?”

  The crewman ignored her question. He returned his gaze to the shore ahead of them and kept his hand on his pistol.

  Once away from the yacht, the forward momentum of the waves helped to usher the little boat toward the beach. Though the night blackened the greenery on the shore, Bailey peered at the dark tree line beyond the foreshore. Surely, those were gray leaf trees. Their scent filled her lungs with hope.

  Wishing she could discuss the overwhelming aroma with Tim, she looked back at the yacht. It seemed farther away than she expected. The lone emergency light in the bridge was no longer visible. P
rofessor Tim had lowered the other tender to the water. As the waves lifted and lowered in her line of sight, she couldn’t see him. Hopefully, he was starting the motor and they would be safely reunited on the shore of the Land within minutes.

  She glanced at the Land ahead and said to Micah, “Almost there.”

  The crewman at the front of the boat skimmed the water’s surface with his oar. He yelled to the crewman who was working the motor, “We’re in the shallows.”

  The engine quieted to a stall. Above the sound of water lapping at the sides of the boat, a man’s voice carried on the wind. Bailey looked back to see if it was Professor Tim. His tender was a white blur some fifty yards behind them.

  The voice called out again. It sounded like it was coming from somewhere in front of her, not behind. She couldn’t see any movement on the beach. It was probably her imagination or an animal. She almost reached for the radio Tim had given her, but he’d said not to unless it was an emergency. They were nearly to shore and Tim was headed in the right direction, so this wasn’t an emergency.

  As the crewmen rowed, one of them said to Micah. “Only twenty meters to go, mate.”

  Micah’s face was stuck in a permanent grimace of pain. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  Bailey touched his trembling knee. “Your uncle is coming with the medical supplies. We’ll get some painkillers in you and splint your arm. You will feel better in no time.”

  Micah nodded once, seeming more like an injured yellow belt outmatched on the mat than the fiercely independent yacht captain Bailey had gotten to know over the past few days.

  The boat slowed to a stop, and the crewmen poked their oars into the shallow water. The crewman at the bow said, “The bottom is scraping. Walk from here. Bailey, get Micah to dry sand while we drag the boat toward the trees to tie it up.”