Archipelago N.Y.: Flynn (15 page)

Of course, her
first impulse had been to reject him right away... to tell him to get lost! And
then what? A little voice had spoken in her head… Condemn her parents?
Jeopardize Flynn's situation even further? No! The price was too high … As much
as the thought of being with Leo repulsed her, Madison knew she had no choice.
She would have to give in to his demands… Or could she trick him somehow? Convince
him that she would go along with everything he wanted… Make him believe she was
willing to be his? But Madison was so tired now… tired to the point where she
felt like she might agree to just about anything in exchange for a few hours of
proper rest…

Madison sank
deeper into the couch and prayed Tony had read her message… and that Flynn had
been allowed to compete… Her eyelids started to close. A minute later, her body
went limp and Madison was asleep, having finally surrendered to exhaustion.

“Here!” Tony said
and lifted his eyes from the map. “This is our spot, amigo.”

Flynn slowed down
and let the
Seeker
glide until it bumped gently into the concrete wall
of the Trump Building. He secured the raft and looked around.

They were on Wall
Street Canal, which had been cleared from traffic because of the Trials. There
was just one more raft moored nearby. It belonged to Pharrell and Clay… But
Pharrell wasn't on it any more, just his Crew Mate furiously pumping air down
to his diving bell. Suddenly, shouts and whistles could be heard above their
heads as the other rafts began to arrive. Flynn looked up. Spectators had
gathered along the rooftops and walkways, cheering and clapping their hands.
Hoping to see his father, Flynn quickly scanned the crowd… but Alan Perry
wasn’t there.

Flynn checked the
weights under his diving bell, lowered the contraption in the water and let it
sink. He had already greased his body with seal fat and was ready to dive. “All
set!” Flynn called out to Tony as he fastened his harness and adjusted his
pouch. “No time to waste. Let me look at the map again.” He studied the map for
a moment, shoved it in his harness and said, “Remember to save your energy!
Only pump when I pull the hose. I'll be fine!” Flynn gave his friend the thumbs
up sign, and Tony did the same. They had practiced this so many times, that it
was like second nature to them both. Flynn snapped his goggles on, stood still
at the edge of the raft for a moment, and dived in.

Luckily, their
assigned target was in fairly shallow waters, and the bright sunlight
penetrated deep enough for Flynn to see clearly the outlines of the buildings
below. He went straight down past his diving bell. Pharrell's bell was swaying
not too far away and appeared to be empty. Flynn reached the pile of mangled
vehicles that littered the submerged street and slowed down his dive. He took
out the map and switched on his flashlight. Flynn glanced at the murky silhouette
of a building, a few yards to the left. According to the map, his target was
supposed to be in there, and Flynn could only hope he had read the co-ordinates
right.

Kicking his feet,
Flynn swam under the fallen traffic light that was in his way, and in a matter
of seconds, found himself at the building’s entrance. Flynn shone his light at
the sign above the door. Like everything else around him, it was covered in
barnacles and weeds, but he could still make out what it said: New York Stock
Exchange! Yes, he had definitely found his the location of his target!

Unfortunately, the
entrance was blocked by a heap of twisted metal, so Flynn turned back, looking
for another way in. Suddenly, a faint light appeared in one of the windows to
his right. He saw a shadow emerge quickly out of it, and then the big white
grin of Pharrell Lewis as he glided past him. The boy gave him the thumbs up
and swam toward his bell. So, Pharrell had located his target and was now in
the lead, thought Flynn, his heart sinking a little. He looked back at the
black hole from where Pharrell had exited the building and decided not to go
back for more air…Without wasting any more precious time, Flynn went straight
in.

A dark and
cavernous space opened up before him with a row of kiosks, buried under rubble
and tangled cables. Flynn's beam bounced off the broken monitors covering the
sides of the kiosks. Tubes came out of the tops, connecting the kiosks to a
rusted pipeline, hanging from the ceiling. To Flynn, the place looked no
different than any other underwater site. He had scavenged such buildings many
times over. He checked his map again, and swam past the kiosks, looking at the
numbers stenciled on their monitor screens. According to the map, he had to
find a kiosk with the number 17 on it. Stopping at the one marked 10, Flynn
then began to count seven spaces down, until he had found what he was looking
for. The glass on the monitor screen was gone and it was now just a dark box. According
to the map, his target had to be inside!

That was easy,
Flynn thought. Without hesitating, he plunged his hand through the screen’s
hole. His fingers touched the bottom and started groping for the target.
Suddenly, they fell on a small object. His target! Grabbing it, Flynn tried to
pull it out, but the object didn’t move. Something soft and very much alive was
holding the target down. A second later, Flynn felt his hand locked in a tight
grip. And then, a sharp pain shot through his wrist. He winced and tried to
pull his arm out of the hole, but whatever had caught him wouldn’t let go. It
was now tugging hard at his hand, pulling it back in. Trapped against the
kiosk, Flynn realized that he was struggling to hold his breath! He knew that
panic was every diver’s worst enemy…he had to stay calm, or all would be lost!

Anchoring his feet
at the base of the kiosk and using all his strength, Flynn managed to pull his
arm out. But it came wrapped in a bundle of bright red tentacles, followed by the
bulbous body of a giant octopus. Still clutching the target, Flynn realized
that his fingers were dangerously close to the hard beak of the octopus' mouth.
An inch or two, and his hand would be gone! Duncan Roth had warned them about
surprises… Well, this was a very nasty one… and potentially lethal, Flynn
thought as he reached for his diving knife. In one swift move, he had pulled
the blade from his harness and was slashing at the tentacles. The octopus let
go of his hand and furiously jetted away in a cloud of black ink. But the brief
struggle had caused Flynn to lose his grip on the target. It was now attached
to one of the tentacles and slipping quickly out of his reach. Waving the knife
blindly at the murky ink cloud, Flynn managed to slice the tentacle off and grab
it before it had disappeared together with the octopus.

 Clutching Duncan
Roth’s target, Flynn swam out of the building, his ears ringing and his lungs
screaming for air. He had spent too much time at the bottom. Now, he had to get
up to the bell as quickly as possible, or risk drowning. Surfacing under its
dome and having taken a deep breath of air, Flynn let out a loud cry of relief.
He knew he had just cheated death. A few more seconds, and he would have been
gone! Flynn pulled the hose, waiting for more fresh air to come in, thanking Tony
and his lucky stars for the second time that day.

With his breathing
back to normal, Flynn removed the remaining bits of tentacle still stuck to his
wrist. Then he took a closer look at the target. It was a small, purple glass
bottle… Nothing special, he thought, but to him it was the most valuable scavenged
find, ever! Careful not to drop it, Flynn put the target in his pouch, making
sure it was safely tucked inside. Now it was time to get back to the surface
and finish the race… Flynn pulled the hose again to let Tony know he was coming
up, took one final deep breath and swam out.

 He had only made
a couple of strokes when he saw that Pharrell’s diving bell was moving. But
instead of going up, the bell was sinking slowly toward the bottom! Its oxygen
supply hose had been cut and left to dangle, a spray of air bubbles shooting
out of its severed end. Flynn caught a glimpse of a boy swimming away, but he
knew immediately it wasn’t his friend… Someone, half the size of Pharrell, had
just destroyed the bell and was now making a quick escape.

Flynn looked back
at the partially collapsed bell and to his horror, realized it wasn’t empty.
There was a body trapped inside…And it could only be Pharrell, Flynn thought! As
he got closer, he saw his friend kicking, trying frantically to get out. Without
thinking, Flynn dove after the bell. Seconds later, he was slashing at the
mangled dome with his knife. Somehow, Pharrell was able to push free, his eyes
bulging, bubbles of air gurgling out of his mouth and nose. Flynn knew there
was no time to get to the surface. He grabbed Pharrell's hand and using all of
his remaining strength, managed to swim back to the safety of his own diving
bell.

Once inside, it
took a good minute before Pharrell stopped coughing and gasping for air. “Thanks
bro!” he finally said, his eyes full of gratitude. “You could've left me there!”

“Yeah, right! Did
you see who did this to you?”

“No man, I was
inside the bell! Just saw a blade slice through the plastic, and then water
started pouring in… Next thing I know, the bell was taking me down!”

“Got your target?”
Flynn asked.

Pharrell nodded.
“Had to fight an eel for it, though.”

“The Rottweiler
didn't make it easy, did he?” Flynn looked at his wrist, still swollen from the
tentacle’s suckers.

“He sure as hell
didn’t.” Pharrel showed him the red welt on his forearm. “Booby trapped those
targets real nice.”

They both laughed.

“Let's get out of
here!” Pharrel said.

Flynn swam out and
up towards the surface, followed by his friend. Their heads popped up at the
same time, a few feet away from their rafts. Pharrell swam toward his, where
Clay was kneeling over the severed air hose and clearly in a state of sheer panic.

“I’m OK!” Pharrell
called out to his Crew Mate. “I’m safe, bro!”

The look of relief
on Clay’s face was indescribable.

“Race ya, Perry!”
Pharrell shouted over his shoulder.

“All the way, pal!”

Flynn scanned the
canal and spotted another head bobbing in the water, not far from the
Seeker
.
It was one of the Gallagher twins, staring after Pharrell. The boy caught
Flynn's eyes, frowned and swam quickly back to his own raft. Flynn wondered if he
was the one who had knifed Pharrell’s diving bell. And then, it struck him how
lucky they had been. The Gallagher twin could have destroyed Flynn’s bell too…
But there was no time to dwell on any of that... every second was precious… Shaking
his head to get the water out of his ears and with a few powerful strokes, Flynn
was back to his raft.

“You OK, amigo? Got
the target?” asked Tony, his voice full of concern.

“Yeah!” Flynn
hoisted himself up and jumped on the seat with his diving gear still on.

“What was all that
about?” Tony pointed towards Pharrell's raft. “His buddy went nuts!”

“Someone tried to
kill Pharrell,” said Flynn, his feet on the pedals. “Let's go.”

As soon as Tony
sat down next to him, Flynn started pedaling. Pharrell’s raft was already a
fair distance ahead of them. The
Seeker
chased in its wake. The other
teams were not too far behind, and finishing in the top three was going to be
tough! Flynn knew Pharrell would be taking a break now, while his Crew Mate was
strong and rested. It would be Clay plowing ahead on the pedals. Then, the two
boys would switch… Flynn had to do it all on his own. Tony was in no shape to take
turns. But as tired as Flynn felt, he was going to do his best to catch up to
Pharrell. The raft ahead was gaining speed, but so was the
Seeker
.

“Let me take over
for a bit,” Tony pleaded with Flynn, ten minutes into the race. “You're
exhausted!”

“I’m fine! You’ve
done more than enough,” Flynn said as he pushed harder on the pedals.
Pharrell's raft was heading down Broad Street Canal, clearly in the lead now. Chasing
after him was not going to work, and Flynn knew it. “We'll take a short cut!” he
said, making a sharp right turn.

Flynn managed to
swerve into a narrow alleyway between two buildings. It was so tight that the
sides of the
Seeker
scraped the walls. At the end of the short stretch, Flynn
took a left into another alleyway, then right again. He kept zigzagging like
that for a while, skirting round corners. Tony had gone extremely quiet. Flynn
glanced at his friend and saw that his face had turned green, his knuckles
white from squeezing the edge of his seat.

“You gonna be
sick?”

“I'll be fine,
amigo,” Tony said through clenched teeth. “Keep going!”

“Hang in there! One
more turn … and we're out!”

Flynn pressed
ahead. His legs felt like they were on fire, but he tried to ignore the burning
pain. As he exited the narrow alley and was about to rejoin the race path,
Flynn caught a sharp movement with the corner of his eye. Seconds later,
something rammed the
Seeker
from behind and spun the raft around.
Suddenly, Flynn found himself face to face with the Gallagher twins.

“You crazy?” Flynn
yelled as he fought to regain control of his raft.

Both Gallaghers
seemed possessed with unspeakable rage… There was a look of sheer madness in
their eyes as they backed up for another attack on the
Seeker
. The twins
worked their pedals like a well-oiled machine, and within seconds another violent
blow followed the first. The force of the impact sent Flynn's raft crashing
against the wall behind. Losing his balance, Tony was thrown out of his seat.
Just as he was about to fall overboard, Flynn grabbed him by the belt of his
shorts and yanked him back. The
Seeker
was now pinned between the wall
and the Gallagher raft. One of the twins jumped from his seat, a long spear in
his hand.

“Hand over the
target and your map, Perry!” The boy stood legs apart, pointing the spear at
Flynn.

“Don't be stupid,
man! You know you won't get away with this!”

“Oh yeah?” the
Gallagher twin growled. He flicked his wrist, and the spear went through one of
the barrels supporting Flynn's raft. The boy withdrew the spear and water rushed
immediately into the jagged hole. “I'm gonna sink your sorry ass!” The
Gallagher twin aimed his spear at the next barrel and yelled, “Here goes...!”

Flynn's eyes
darkened. He clenched and unclenched his fists. The twins were tough and
strong… Fighting both of them was out of the question. The twin poked another hole
in the barrel. Laughing hard, he was now taking aim to do it again. Flynn's
body tensed, ready for action.

As if reading his
mind, Tony whispered, “Flynn, don't!”

But Flynn ignored
his friend’s warning. He had his eyes focused on the spear and the hand holding
it.

“This should do
it, now,” cried the twin as the spear flew in the air for the third time.

But Flynn was
faster… He sprang up and caught the weapon, spun around and in one swift
movement slashed the ropes holding the front barrels under the Gallagher raft.

It all took less
than a second. The twins didn’t even have the time to cry out as Flynn placed
his foot on their raft and kicked its hull away from the
Seeker
. Freed from
the ropes, the barrels began to float off, leaving the Gallagher raft to tilt
dangerously without their support. There was a loud snap as the front end of
the twins’ platform broke apart and collapsed on itself. Arms flailing, the
twins lost their footing, slid down the deck and with a loud splash, both fell
into the water.

“Let's get out of
here!” cried Flynn. He tossed the spear overboard, sat back next to Tony and
began to steer the
Seeker
away from all the debris of the Gallagher raft.

“Wow!” said Tony. “How
the hell did you do that?”

Flynn just
shrugged, pressed on the pedals, leaving the twins shouting and cursing behind
him… A few moments later, he rounded the corner and was back on Broad Street
Canal. There was no one ahead of him! His tactic had worked… He could clearly
see the space where the canal ended and merged with the final stretch of the
race. One more right turn there, and he would be within sight of the finishing
line.

But then he heard
the splashing of pedals. Turning, he saw that Pharrell was just a few feet
behind the
Seeker
and going very fast. Their eyes met for a brief second.
“Good to see you again, you sneaky bastard!” the boy yelled.

Flynn didn’t waste
time replying.  The docking platform was now two hundred yards ahead. The
silhouettes of Duncan Roth and his group were clearly defined in the distance.
This was it… One last push and Flynn would be the winner! “We're almost there,
Tony!” he shouted. “We can do it!”

“Flynn!” Tony cried.
“Look!”

Flynn glanced to
his right and saw Pharrell’s raft overtaking the
Seeker
. Pharrell had
switched seats with his buddy Clay again, and they were gliding ahead
effortlessly. Flynn's raft was again left rocking in their wake. “Damn it!”
Flynn spat and pushed harder. Victory had seemed so close, and now he was watching
it slip away...

“It's all right,
Flynn!” said Tony. “Second place’s OK ...”

“It’s not OK!”
Flynn grunted in frustration… Pharrell was far ahead now. Flynn knew he couldn't
go any faster. His leg muscles were beginning to cramp up, the pain becoming excruciating
unbearable… Only the adrenalin, rushing through his veins, kept his body going
through the motions.

Suddenly,
Pharrell's raft slowed down, almost coming to a stop. Quickly, the
Seeker
gained the distance between them. “What are you doing?” Flynn shouted as he
overtook Pharrell’s raft.

“I owe you one!”
Pharrell said. “Go ahead, brother! Show’em who’s boss!”

Flynn’s surprise
lasted only a second. He nodded his thanks and then pressed ahead… If the roles
had been reversed, he would have done the same for Pharrell… Divers had a very
strict code of honor and Pharrell was proof of how it worked… The same couldn’t
be said of the Gallaghers, thought Flynn, clenching his jaw.

The Scavenger Dock
was coming closer. A large crowd of spectators had gathered round the buildings
directly behind it, cheering on the race. Flynn could now see Duncan Roth's
expressionless face, his eyes locked on him. Flynn glanced back. Pharrell was
following at a leisurely pace, just a few feet behind. And then, the moment
Flynn had dreamt of for so many years was finally upon him…  The
Seeker
glided
over the finishing line and bumped hard against the tires lining the platform. A
celebratory roar rose over Flynn and Tony’s heads... A moment later, Pharrell’s
raft slid in next to them. After securing the
Seeker
to the Scavenger’s
Dock, Flynn and Tony stood up in front of Duncan Roth. Hands shaking, Flynn retrieved
the small bottle from his pouch and held it out together with his map.

“Our target, sir!”

The Rottweiler
nodded and took the bottle, examining it closely. Flynn's eyes fell on Leo Van
Zandt, standing a few steps behind the man. The boy looked furious… miserable…
defeated… He glared back at Flynn, pure hatred etched on his face. Flynn held
his stare for a moment then looked away. The remaining teams were arriving now.
Flynn spotted among them the Gallagher twins, who had somehow managed to put
their raft back together again and made it to the finishing line.

Duncan Roth
cleared his throat. “Listen up! I hereby declare Flynn Perry and Tony Romero
the winners of this year's Scavenger Trials! Well done to the diver. His was
one of the most difficult challenges and he showed remarkable courage in completing
his dive.”

Leo threw a nasty
look at Flynn, turned on his heels and stormed off in the direction of his
power boat. Duncan Roth barely seemed to notice his departure. “Pharrell Lewis
and Clay Adams came in second.” He paused briefly, his voice turning icy. “Now,
I know there was an attempt on your life, Lewis! But mark my words, this act
won’t go unpunished.”

Most of the rafts
were back now, so there were gasps of shock, then angry shouts coming from
their decks. But the teams were also eager to hear how they had performed in
the Trials. Soon, a hush fell over them, allowing Duncan Roth to continue.

“And finally,” the
man said, taking a step forward, “Dave Garcia and Ben Collins round up those to
qualify as Free Scavengers…You know the drill. In two days’ time, all three
teams will report directly to me for assignments! Also, you'll be moving into
your new living quarters on the Upper Side!”

Duncan reached
into his satchel and took out a small wooden box. “The winning teams will now
receive their badges,” said Duncan. He slowly produced the first golden badge.
“Guard these with your lives and don’t abuse the privileges that come with wearing
them.”

Flynn closed his
eyes and took a deep breath…Duncan’s Gold… this was what he had fought for… He
had never been so happy in his whole life!

“From now on...”
Duncan Roth continued as he handed the badges to the three winning teams, “you'll
be wearing your badges at all time… They'll give you unlimited access to the
whole of the Archipelago, but don't forget... it's an honor you have to keep
earning every day with your work…You can lose it as quickly as you’ve gained
it."

Here, Duncan Roth
paused and glanced over the silent teams. They all looked battered, exhausted.
Most held their targets up for him to see. Only a few stood empty handed. All
eyes were on him, staring in anticipation. He took out his handheld and tapped
on the screen. After reading out a long list of names, the Rottweiler said, “The
teams that failed the Trials... step up here!”

A few boys walked
onto the ramp and stopped in front of Duncan Roth. The Gallagher twins stood at
the end of the line, their heads down.

“You won't be
joining the Scavenger Crews!” Duncan Roth spoke to the group. “Leave your vessels
here and go home. In the next few days, your skills will be reassessed, and
you'll be given your new jobs. For the Greater Good, you’re dismissed!”

Without a word,
the group turned to leave.

“Gallagher!” Duncan
Roth called after the twins. “Stay back, the pair of you!”

The two boys
froze. There was fear in their eyes now. Having glared at them for a long
moment, the Rottweiler turned to face the crowd. “I wasn’t joking when said I'd
know all your moves during the Trials!” He was pointing at the twins, his mouth
barely moving as he spoke. “You not only failed to get your target, but you
also tried to sabotage several other teams!”

The Gallaghers
didn’t dare look up. Flynn watched them squirm and wished things had played out
differently… If only they had stuck to the honor code and just done their job…

“For that reason,”
Duncan Roth continued, “you'll be assigned to the Waste Crews! That’s your
punishment and it will last for as long as you live on the Archipelago!”

A murmur went
through the crowd as five armed guards stepped over to the twins and led them
away. A chill ran down Flynn's spine at the thought of what awaited the
Gallaghers… He didn't like the twins, but couldn't help feeling sorry for them…
Their lives were over!

Duncan Roth waited
a moment then faced the teams again. “As for those who found their targets…
you'll be notified about your Crew assignments… Now, go get some well deserved
rest.” With those words, the man turned and walked toward his boat, followed by
the rest of his guards.

The teams moved
all at once, chatting excitedly, congratulating each other. Flynn and Tony were
surrounded by well-wishers. The boys let everyone look at their shiny new
badges. But as time passed, the rafts began to leave, drifting away from the
dock, dispersing in all directions. The Trials were over, and Flynn was looking
forward to what awaited him. No matter how much his body ached, he had achieved
his goal and made his dream come true. Flynn dropped on his seat, flushed with
happiness and relief. Of course, he wished his father had seen him win… and
that Ann Baxter, his mentor, was still alive to witness this great day. She
would have been so proud… He patted the spot next to him and said, “Come on,
Tony. I'll take you home!”