A New Day in America (31 page)

Leila keeps them moving, slower now. Everyone is quiet and looks at the lady
.

“There must be peace and order. I have therefore decided to help the millions of Americans in San Francisco with the resources of the Revelation. Since this morning, the Revelation Guard Corps have marched across this city. The new government in San Francisco has itself summoned troops, infantry divisions, Naval vessels, legions on the ground, and the American Air Force in the blue sky. Behind the legions, stand the will and decisiveness of the entire American nation. I myself, as president of the American people, will act as ambassador to the Lord Almighty and ensure that those who have accepted Jesus as their personal Savior will reach their heavenly reward. Long live America! Long live the Revelation of San Francisco!”

Leila keeps them moving. Past the throngs of people, walking against their attentive faces
.

Then things go black
.

“Stay awake, sweetie, stay awake for me.”

Stay awake. She can’t
.

“Stay awake for me.”

Can’t
.

The cylinders full of treatment are tucked in a pack under the passenger seat. Nos presses his ankles against them to make sure they’re there. The pain inside his ribcage feels like it’s slowly draining the life from him. The blood has soaked through the bandage and fills his shirt.

Art drives all the way through the Berkley Yacht Harbor and parks the car up behind the Range Rover. Art tucks his walking stick under his arm to carry the crates from the trunk. He looks back at the Lamborghini like it’s hard to leave it behind.

They hurry along a long dock that stretches out into the water, past idling boats with bare sails bobbing in the air. Nos is hurting, carrying the gun and the treatment cylinders in his pack. He still is far faster than Art and the dwarf. He turns and watches them at the point of the gun. The threat seems somewhat pointless, and Nos lowers it.
Art has this worked out
.

A yacht waits at the end of the dock—a power catamaran that’s blue on the bottom with a tall white cabin structure on top. The name
The Seaward
is etched in white through the blue.

“The Seaward?” says Nos.

“My home for some time now,” replies a grinning Art. “I named it after my mother.”

Seaward. C-word
. Nos shakes his head.

The two skinny men who drove up ahead in the Range Rover are getting the boat ready. They’re Japanese. Art says “
arigato
,” and rushes into the cabin. Nos follows.

The cabin is sheer luxury—six rooms—a study with a laptop, an entertainment room with a flat screen TV, living room connected by a bar with stools to a stocked kitchen, a salon with stairs leading down to private staterooms under the raised sky lounge, and helm.

“Uh, excuse us, we have to go to the bathroom,” says Art, and he and the dwarf disappear.

Nos checks the kitchen. The fridge is stocked. The cabinet is also full, but not with food. Plastic medical sacks that look like IV bags are loaded up with pink fluid.

The Cure. Not the good kind
.

***

Nay has to pee. She has no idea how long they’ve been walking. Leila is near out of breath, but she pushes forward. The dogs pull the leashes taught
.

“I—I can walk,” says Nay
.

“Are you sure?” asks Leila, surprised
.

“I’m sure.”

Leila puts her down. Her legs wobble. She has to pee. Not now
.

Nay tries to keep pace. Leila holds her hand
.

They pass soldiers everywhere, rounding up people and shoving them into big trucks. They surround a group of bearded men in hats wearing black with long beards that look like they’re from another century. She had seen men like them back home. The soldiers look at Nay. They see the dogs. They turn away
.

She has to pee so
bad.

Then the city is gone, and the wind blows. The ocean is huge and spreads out in front of them like wide open arms. Gigantic ships wait in the waters as hundreds and hundreds of people line up to board them. The shore is stuffed with people
.

They get in line. No one moves for the dogs this time. They have to wait like everyone else
.

“I have to pee,” says Nay
.

“Soon. You’ve got to hold it now.”

She can’t. She can’t
.

Soldiers stalk the lines and stare
.

***

There’s enough cure there to get Art to Asia and then some. The yacht pushes off, and Nos takes out his pack and sets the treatment cylinders on the counter and stuffs the pack with every last bag of the pink cure. He sets the treatment in the cabinet.

He knocks on the bathroom door.

“Occupied.”

He kicks in the bathroom door.

The dwarf has Art’s arm tied off. He has a syringe in his hand.

Nos pushes the dwarf aside and snatches the syringe.

“No fair,” says Art. “Pick on someone your own size, juicehead.”

“What’s your plan?” Nos asks.

“So how small do the steroids make your balls, really? Like snow peas?”

“Tell me your plan, you arrogant junkie.”

“You take a beating like I took, see if you don’t want something for the pain.”

Nos thinks of Afghanistan and his magical tobacco opium.
He has a point
.

“Right, and that’s your very first hit.”

Art shrugs.

“Your plan, before I stab this needle through your skull.”

“We’re on our way to Japan. You’re going to work as my bodyguard. I can pay you in money or medicine, whichever you like. Now give back my candy,” says Art, perspiring.

“We have to make a stop first.”

“No stops.”

“When we pass under the Golden Gate. We have to stop at the port. Then you’ll get your candy.”

Art looks like he’s about to cry.

Addicts. So easy to manipulate
.

Nay can’t hold on. They are closer to the ship. People are everywhere. The soldiers make them stay in straight lines. More of the men in black robes with beards and hats are waiting. A soldier talks to one of them. Their voices are getting loud
.

They are close to the dark water. The waves ride in and break and flow back. The water keeps flowing. Nay wants to move. The walking was hard but the standing is harder. She feels herself falling, feels Leila holding her up by her hand
.

“Hold on, Nay, hold on.”

Nay’s whole body feels like water. No bones or anything inside. The water is rushing, swirling
.

And then the water releases down her leg
.

Pee soaks her pants and runs down to her ankle
.

She can’t hold on. She falls. Leila can’t hold her. She’s on the ground
.

“Oh! Nay, oh no!”

Soldiers come. She hears their boots. She can’t tell how many
.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing, just a little nauseous.”

“Step aside, Ma’am.”

“Please—”

“Step aside.”

The dogs growl. Nay can feel them tense all around her
.

She tries to get up. Her body won’t do what she wants
.

“Get her up!” a voice barks
.

“Hold her,” says another
.

“Get those dogs,” says another
.

Nay can sit up—that’s all. The soldiers surround them. The people in the line back away. The dark water is right there. The ship, bright lights—right there. The soldiers’ guns are drawn
.

***

Nos stands at the side of the yacht as they pass under the fiery yellow and red of the Golden Gate bridge. The catamaran flies, and water froths at its sides. He sees the lines of ships waiting at the expanse of the Port of San Francisco. Crowds are at the harbor like ants pouring into ships. Revelation Naval boats circle the waters.

Nos directs the captain.

“Closer,” he says.

Art hides in the cabin, wanting nothing to do with any of it. The dwarf is outside, watching.

Nos sees the huge powder blue Ana Maria.

“There,” he points.

He clicks on the Motorola.

“
Nos
,” chirps Leila.

“
Forget the boat
. Jaz is dead. I have a boat. Meet me out by—”

“
Can’t! Soldiers! Help!”
Voices buzz in the background. “
Shoot the dogs!”
they say.

“Leila? Leila?”

No response.

“Take the boat inland,” he tells the captain. “Toward Bay 13. Fast.”

Nos scans the shore as the boat bounces closer. Thousands of people are crowded at the mouths of a few ocean liners. He sees the Ana Maria, and checks the host of faces.

No Leila. No dogs. No Nay
.

A horn blares. The ocean liner bellows and pulls out of the dock. It rumbles past the catamaran, and the captain swerves the yacht out of its wake.

Leila would surely be deck side, in the crowd by the Ana Maria.

Nos checks the Motorola again.

“Leila? Come in!”

Nothing.

Where. Are. They?

Nos turns his scope to the shore.

He sees a commotion in pale silhouettes. Soldiers form a circle. They shuffle their feet on the dock.

The dogs.

“Closer—to the shore!” yells Nos.

The yacht moves closer. Closer. Nos feels the jackhammer of his pulse.

“Closer!”

The yacht drifts toward the shore and then stops.

“Closer!”

The captain comes off the wheel, yelling in sharp, staccato Japanese.

Nos gets it.
Close enough
.

“Drop anchor!”

Nos points the gun at the captain’s head. He gets it. He pulls lever, and the anchor tunnels down from the bottom.

“Art!”

The cabin door opens. Art sticks his head out, sweating.

Nos holds up his pack.

“You wait here for me,” he says and opens the pack, revealing all the pink full of the cure.

Art’s eyes go wide.

“You wait here for me or you’re in for a long, agonizing detox.”

He straps the pack on tight and goes to the railing.

The water. Once again. He dives in. The waves make a cold welcome.

***

“Leash those dogs!”

“Stay back,” yells Leila
.

Naomi stands. She knows she has to. But it hurts. Her leg are fluid. Like water
.

The soldiers suddenly look to the left
.

The men in black are yelling
.

Leila grabs the dog leashes. They are ferocious and lunge at the soldiers
.

The men in black are yelling, and the soldiers are yelling
.

More soldiers come from everywhere
.

The lead man in black snaps. He punches the soldier in his yellow goggles
.

And suddenly all of the men in black pull guns from their black robes and open fire. Soldiers fall. Soldiers fire back
.

Leila lets the dogs loose
.

They jump the distracted soldiers and pull them to the ground. They snarl and bite
.

More soldiers come. The men in black are outnumbered. The guns are so
loud.
Nay’s ears pop and ring. They kill and are killed and killed
.

More soldiers surround her and Leila
.

Nay shuts her eyes. She’s going black. A relief this time
.

Gunfire blasts all around so loud. Now Naomi can hear nothing
.

She opens her eyes and bullets are ripping through the bottom of the dock. Two soldiers are down, torn apart with red jelly all over
.

A voice calls
.

“Naomi!”

The soldiers turn to the edge of the dock, guns pointed down at the shore, and loud bangs tear though him
.

“Leila! Nay!”

Pa
.

***

Nos stands at the 20-mm turret gun in a Revelation boat at the edge of the shore. The boat bobs and shakes with the lapping ocean tide. Behind the girls and the dogs, there’s a full on firefight. Crowds hit the deck as the others stampede over them. The Hassidim are shooting at the Revelation, the corps at the Hassids. Bodies are dropping all over.

“Leila!” he calls again to the dock. The gunfire is too loud.

Her face peers down at Nos and brightens with relief.

“Coming!” she says.

She picks up Nay and runs. The dogs run with her.

Revelation boats converge on him from the bay.

Taking the boat wasn’t too tough. The soldiers weren’t expecting a man to emerge shooting from the waters. Now every boat knows he’s there.

Got to be fast. Come on, Leila. Hurry
.

Soldiers follow Leila down to the shore, shooting. Nos blasts back. Soldiers drop as shots explode in the sand.

Leila runs to the boat and hands Naomi to Nos. She’s pale and blacked out and soaked in pee.

“Oh God, honey, Jesus.”

Nos sets her down in the boat and steps into the shallow water.

Leila is in. The dogs are in. Boats are coming. Nos pushes the boat around and jumps in, swiveling the gun to cover the shore

The boat bobs in the water.

“Leila, can you drive?”

“Never have, but I’ll try,” she says.

“I’ll drive. Take the gun.”

“What do I do?”

“Something moves, shoot it.”

Nos gets behind the wheel, and the boat barrels out to the ocean.

The soldiers at the shore are too far to bother them anymore. But boats come on from the harbor, five strong, flashing searchlights.

Nos cuts their lights to avoid detection.

Suddenly, the boat shakes with rattling mounted turret fire. Shells tumble to the floor. Leila doesn’t let up on the trigger for a moment. The Revelation boats halt and hold fast. Leila gets the drop, blasting apart the front end of the boat.