“I found it in Galveston Bay, at the mouth of the ship channel.”
“Long way from home.”
The Maestro walked Michael through the data. Departing from Hong Kong in mid-March, the Bergensfjord had sailed to Hawaii, then passed through the Panama Canal into the Atlantic. According to the time line Michael had established from the newspaper, that much would have occurred before the outbreak of the Easter Virus. They had made port in the Canary Islands, perhaps to refuel, then continued north.
At this point, the data changed. The ship had traveled in circles up and down the coast of northern Europe. A brief foray to the Strait of Gibraltar, then it reversed course without entering the Mediterranean and returned to Tenerife. Several weeks elapsed, and they set sail again. The epidemic would have been widespread by this time. They passed through the Strait of Magellan and headed north toward the equator.
In midocean, the ship appeared to stop. After two motionless weeks, the data ended.
“Can we tell where they were headed?” Michael asked.
Another screen of data appeared: these were course plottings, the Maestro explained. He scrolled down the page and directed Michael’s attention to the last one.
“Can you back that up for me?” Michael asked.
“Already done.” The old man produced a flash drive from his apron; Michael put it in his pocket. “The Maestro is curious. Why so important?”
“I was thinking of taking a vacation.”
“The Maestro has already checked. Empty ocean. Nothing there.” His pale eyebrows lifted. “But something, perhaps?”
The man was no fool. “Perhaps,” said Michael.
He left Sara a note. Sorry to run. Visiting an old friend. Hope to be back in a few days.
The second transport to the Orange Zone left at 0900. Michael rode it to the end of the line, got off, and waited as the bus drove away. The posted sign read:
YOU ARE ENTERING THE RED ZONE.
PROCEED AT OWN RISK.
WHEN IN DOUBT, RUN.
If you only knew, he thought. Then he began to walk.
11
Sara returned to the orphanage before the start of her morning shift. Sister Peg greeted her at the door.
“How is she doing?” Sara asked.
The woman looked more harried than usual; it had been a long night for her. “Not very well, I’m afraid.”
Pim had woken up screaming. Her howls were so loud that they had awakened the entire dormitory. For the time being, they had put her in Sister Peg’s quarters.
“We’ve had abused children before, but nothing so extreme. Another night like that …”
Sister Peg led Sara to her room, a monastic space with just the bare-bones necessities. The only decoration was a large cross on the wall. Pim was awake and sitting on the bed with her knees tight to her chest. But as Sara entered, some of the tension released from her face. Here is an ally, someone who knows.
“I’ll be outside if you need me,” Sister Peg said.
Sara sat on the bed. The grime was gone, the mats in her hair teased straight or cut away. The sisters had dressed her in a plain wool tunic.
—HOW ARE YOU FEELING TODAY? Sara wrote on the chalkboard.
—OK
—SISTER SAID YOU COULDN’T SLEEP.
Pim shook her head.
Sara explained to Pim that she needed to change her dressings. The girl flinched as Sara eased away the bandages but made no sound. Sara applied antibiotic salve and a cream of cooling aloe and rewrapped her.
—I’M SORRY IF THAT HURT.
Pim shrugged.
Sara looked her in the eye. IT WILL BE OK, she wrote. Then, when the girl did nothing: IT GETS BETTER.
—NO MOR NITEMERES?
Sara shook her head. “No.”
—HOW?
There was, of course, the easy thing to say: Give it time. But that wasn’t the truth, or at least not the whole truth. What took the pain away, Sara knew, was other people—Hollis, and Kate, and being a family.
—IT JUST DOES, she wrote.
It was nearly 0800; Sara had to leave, though she didn’t want to. She packed up her kit and wrote: —I HAVE TO GO NOW. TRY TO REST. THE SISTERS WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU.
—COME BACK? Pim wrote.
Sara nodded.
—DO YU SWEAR?
Pim was looking at her intently. People had been throwing her away her entire life; why should Sara be different?
“Yes,” she said, and crossed her heart. “I swear.”
Sister Peg was waiting for Sara in the hall. “How is she?”
The day had only just started, yet Sara felt completely drained. “The wounds on her back aren’t the real problem. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has more nights like that.”
“Is there any chance of finding a relative? Somebody who can take her in?”
“I think that would be the worst thing for her.”
Sister Peg nodded. “Yes, of course. That was stupid of me.”