The hatch creaked as it swung open a crack and Randy scrambled through. “Wow,” he said. “It’s untouched in here.”
Hazel worked her way through the opening and found Randy trying to strike a flame with a rock and metal shard. The sound of the metal clicking on the stone echoed throughout the hollowed-out steel of the Eco and sparks skittered into blackness. Tightly wrapped palm fronds caught, and the cabin filled with orange flickering light.
Dust moots rose as they moved about the cabin, which clearly hadn’t been touched since The Day. Most of the fabrics had deteriorated to nothing—the bedspread, sheets, pillows—but there were a few shirts and pants still useable in the closet. They stripped the cabin of wire and metal, saying nothing as they worked. The salvage from this room would fetch a high price at trade market, and Hazel was already thinking about what she’d do with the strange case she found. It was leather and contained nothing except an odd device she thought might be a small computer. When she slid the on button, nothing happened. She tapped against the numerical keypad. Nothing.
Randy led Hazel back through the hatch, pushing the bag of bounty before him. Randy’s flame had gone out, and darkness filled the passageway. They walked on the ceiling because this section of the Eco was upside-down in the surf. The sound of water lapping against the broken hull resonated throughout the corridor and made Hazel’s hackles rise. The Eco’s remains were in the shoals, and all it would take was opening the wrong hatch, or moving in a way that shifted the wreckage, and they’d be in deep trouble.
Salty sweat stung Hazel’s eyes, and her back hurt from climbing. They hadn’t gone far when Randy stumbled over a grate covering an air duct. “I can fit in there,” he said.
“You really think that’s a good idea? You have no idea where it leads,” Hazel said.
“True. But there might be something good down there,” he said.
Darkness pressed in around them. “I don’t know. It’s going to be hard enough to find our way out of here as it is. We did good. I say we retreat and come back another day when we have some bark rope with us. That way we can run a guide line.”
Randy harrumphed, but said nothing.
Rusty pipes ran along the bulkhead, disappearing into darkness. The pipes were made of metal, and he would trade their location to a crew that could come in and salvage them. Hazel and Randy only cared about the light stuff, things they could use or trade without getting harassed by their parents or the council. Only islanders authorized by the council could salvage the Eco, and if a fire master discovered what they were doing, they’d be stuck hauling everyone’s wood for six months.
Randy sighed. Hazel knew the sound well. He’d made a decision.
“I’m going to try,” he said. He tightened the rag covering his nose and mouth, then bent and pried off the cover. He banged his head as he squirmed into the duct, grunting and panting as he did so. Dust bellowed from the opening, and the sounds of Randy’s struggle echoed throughout the wreckage.
Hazel coughed and sneezed, dust and dirt filling her nostrils.
A voice echoed back through the duct. “Looks like the metal is crushed ahead. Don’t know if I can get through.”
“Come back then. If you get stuck, we’re screwed.”
“Don’t be bezoomny.” He grunted and the metal ductwork popped as it flexed.
Hazel stood in the darkness, the sound of breathing and the faint rumble of the ocean filling the silence. After a minute, she yelled, “Randy? You OK?”
“Umm. I think I’m stuck. You jinxed me.”
“How bad?”
“I can’t move.”
“Great. Now what?”
Silence.
“I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna leave his Hendricks ass.” Ben Hasten grabbed Hazel by the arm. He’d crept up on her in the blackness. “I thought I told you to stay away from him?”
“Thought you might be worried because we came in here,” Hazel said. She could have gotten badly hurt, but his feud with Randy’s dead grandmother was still in full swing for him.
“Don’t talk wise.”
Hazel’s arm hurt. The old man was still strong, but she didn’t cry out or say anything. She wouldn’t give the drunk the satisfaction.
“Hello?” Randy’s voice boomed down the duct.
“What were you doing in here? You’re not allowed in here,” Hazel said.
Ben was silent in the darkness, then he sparked a torch.
Ben’s eyes were red with wine, but she saw doubt there. Fear.
“Don’t tell me about authorization,” Ben said. “I feared for you two so I followed you in. Being a good grandparent and all that shit. And I’ll take this…” He grabbed her case and the sack of salvage. “Let’s go.”
Hazel stood her ground.
“I said let’s go. Now,” Ben said.
“I’m not leaving him here.”
“Why? This is poetic justice. They teach you what that is in that silly school?”
Hazel said nothing.
“Hazel? Who’s there with you? Are you OK? Hazel?” Randy yelled.
“I’m gonna do to Sarah’s grandson what she tried to do to me. Now let’s go,” Ben said. He lunged forward grasping for her arm, but missed and fell.
“Shit!”
Hazel laughed and danced back and almost tripped on a ceiling light. She looked down on her grandfather with pity. If her father, Peter, was with her he’d say, “He don’t mean it. He’s just drunk.” But Hazel thought he did mean what he said. She thought he meant every word.
Ben’s flame
