jefflong.yearzero-第38部分

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ever　even　know　they　had　reversed　direction。　That　was　when　he　would　make　his　escape。
　In　the　afternoon；　the　pirates　robbed　them　in　a　drunken　pack。　The　terrified　passengers　opened　suitcases　and　crates　and　handed　over　their　last　valuables。　Nathan　Lee　gave　up　everything　but　a　knife　taped　to　his　ankle　and　his　pass；　tucked　under　the　prow　railing　in　anticipation　of　this　very　thing；　and　his　book；　which　he　had　sealed　in　plastic　bags　to　protect　against　the　sea　spray。　〃It's　a　book；　nothing　but　a　book；〃　he　said　in　English。
　The　sailor　took　it　and　eyed　the　handwritten　pages　with　his　sketches　and　watercolors。　He　outweighed　Nathan　Lee　by　fifty　pounds；　and　carried　himself　loosely　like　a　street　fighter。　There　was　nothing　to　do　but　wait。　The　pirate　flipped　a　few　pages　and　they　fell　open　to　the　prayer　flag　from　Tibet。　He　held　up　the　square　of　fabric　and　squinted　at　the　horse　and　prayer　script。　For　whatever　reason；　he　kept　the　flag　and　gave　the　book　back　to　Nathan　Lee。
　As　they　left；　the　sailors　pistol…whipped　some　of　the　men　and　started　to　take　another　woman　away。　Her　little　boy　clung　to　her。　No　one　intervened。　No　one；　including　Nathan　Lee；　tried　to　save　the　child。　The　boy　would　not　let　go　of　his　mother。　Abruptly；　without　a　word；　one　of　the　pirates　grabbed　him　and　threw　him　into　the　sea。　The　mother　howled　and　flailed　and　beat　at　the　sailors；　but　all　they　did　was　laugh　and　pull　her　into　the　black　hold。
　The　refugees　watched　the　little　boy　in　the　sea。　His　stamina　was　amazing　to　them。　After　five　minutes；　he　disappeared　from　sight。　Then；　far　away；　the　boy's　little　head　lifted　on　a　swell。　He　was　still　facing　the　boat；　waiting　politely。
　Nathan　Lee　slid　down　against　the　prow。What　if　that　had　been　Grace？　What　if　her　final　hope　depended　on　the　passion　of　a　stranger？　And　yet　interfering　would　have　cost　his　own　life。　All　night　long　he　saw　the　image　of　that　boy　rolling　upon　the　waves。
　Alaska　was　two　days　distant　when　the　trawler　began　its　turn。　Nathan　Lee　didn't　try　to　alert　any　of　his　fellow　refugees。　The　charade　of　passage　was　ing　to　an　end。　It　was　much　too　late　to　save　anyone　but　himself。　There　was　a　good　chance　it　was　too　late　for　even　that。
　The　sailors　reappeared　just　before　nightfall。　This　time　they　had　blood　on　them；　and　none　of　the　women　came　up。　Nathan　Lee　saw　the　ball　peen　hammer　in　one　butcher's　hand。　The　man　did　nothing　to　hide　it　as　he　walked　to　the　back　of　the　trawler。　A　sailor　in　a　striped　T…shirt　gestured　for　three　of　the　men　to　follow　him　to　the　stern。　They　filed　meekly　around　the　cabin　and　out　of　sight。
　It　took　only　a　few　minutes。　There　was　no　yelling；　no　gunshots；　no　splash　of　water。　The　sailor　returned　and　picked　out　three　more。　He　was　very　pleasant　about　it。　Nathan　Lee　looked　at　the　sky　and　despaired。　The　sun　was　not　falling　fast　enough。
　The　sailor　came　back　and　ushered　a　family　around　the　cabin。　Some　of　the　refugees　began　to　cry；　but　very　quietly；　as　if　it　were　a　breach　of　courtesy。　Families　embraced。　They　held　hands　when　it　was　their　turn　to　walk　around　to　the　back。　A　mother　carried　her　infant；　a　bundle　of　quilt。
　The　pirates　nibbled　away　at　their　numbers。　It　was　all　done　with　great　order。　The　sailor　beckoned；　another　batch　would　go。　Soon　the　deck　held　only　twenty　people。　It　was　now　or　never。　The　night　be　damned。
　Nathan　Lee　shucked　his　quilt　jacket　and　knelt　to　untie　his　boots　and　untape　the　knife　along　his　shin。　The　refugees　had　their　eyes　fixed　on　the　back　of　the　boat。　No　one　saw　him　slide　over　the　rail　with　his　satchel　over　one　shoulder　and　the　knife　in　his　teeth。　He　lowered　himself　to　the　bottom　rung。　His　feet　skipped　along　the　crest　of　waves。　He　let　go。
　He　went　under；　then　came　up；　jolted　by　the　cold。　One…one　thousand；　he　counted；　and　clenched　his　teeth　hard　upon　the　knife。　The　trawler　loomed　enormous　above　him；　a　prehistoric　whale。　Its　sides　flashed　past　him。
　He　had　expected　the　frigid　water；　and　the　sting　of　salt　in　his　eyes；　and　the　awful；　sucking　tonnage　of　wet　clothing。　Still；　he　was　surprised。　His　calculations　were　off。　The　satchel　had　twisted　behind　his　back　and　was　strangling　him。　The　trawler　sped　past。　The　tether　rope　to　the　skiff　was　much　too　high　to　grab。　His　slowness　stunned　him。
　For　an　awful　moment　it　seemed　the　skiff　was　going　to　pass　him　by。　There　was　no　time　for　correction。　He'd　missed　the　bus。
　Then　the　sea　twitched。　Nathan　Lee　sank　into　the　trough　of　a　wave。　The　skiff　rose　overhead。　It　squeezed　slightly　closer　toward　the　trawler；　and　for　an　instant；　the　rope　slackened。　The　skiff　slabbed　to　the　left；　and　dove　down　the　swell。　The　bow　torqued。
　It　was　all　Nathan　Lee　needed。　The　hull　crashed　against　his　left　shoulder；　but　he　managed　to　grab　the　edge。
　The　canvas　cover　was　hard　as　wood。　His　fingers　slipped。　He　pawed　at　the　cover。　He　raked　it　with　his　nails。　It　was　like　trying　to　ride　a　rhinoceros。　The　skiff　pulled　and　tossed　him　about。
　He　plunged　underwater。　The　satchel　dragged　at　his　throat。　The　knife　cut　his　lips。　He　clung　to　the　beast。　Finally　he　got　the　knife　into　one　hand　and　made　a　wild　stab　at　the　canvas。　It　ripped　open　and　he　wrestled　into　the　bowels　of　it。
　He　lay　on　his　back；　crumpled　among　the　oars　and　seat　struts。　His　whole　struggle　had　lasted　no　more　than　a　minute。　He　looked　up　through　the　tear　in　the　canvas　and　dragged　in　great　lungfuls　of　air。　His　palm　was　bleeding　from　the　knife　blade。　His　bare　feet　were　blue。　The　skiff　beat　up　and　down　on　the　rapid　sea。
　Turning　onto　his　belly；　he　crawled　to　the　front　and　edged　up　for　a　glance　at　the　trawler。　He　was　sure　the　pirates　would　be　gathered　at　the　railing；　guns　drawn。　Instead；　they　were　quietly　killing　a　woman。
　Her　head　was　extended　over　the　sea；　where　it　wouldn't　make　a　mess。　The　sailor　with　the　hammer　reached　out　and　rapped　her　skull　with　the　ball　peen　end。　There　was　nothing　vicious　about　his　act。　He　was　not　unkind。　In　his　mind；　perhaps；　he　was　an　angel　of　mercy；　sparing　them　from　suffering　in　the　sea。
　The　woman　slumped。　Two　sailors　lifted　her　over　the　edge　and　she　slithered　into　the　dark　water。　There　was　a　line　of　girls　and　boys。　Nathan　Lee　counted　seven　of　them；　waiting　like　naughty　children　for　their　punishment。　The　man　with　the　hammer　motioned　for　the　child　in　front　to　e　forward。
　Nathan　Lee　ducked　his　head　under　the　canvas。How　could　they　have　failed　to　see　him？　His　struggle　had　seemed　thunderous　and　epic。　He　had　thrashed　through　the　waves　and　knifed　his　way　into　the　skiff　beneath　their　noses。　But　some　veil　had　made　him　invisible。
　He　crouched　under　his　ceiling　of　torn　canvas。　The　tow　rope　had　to　be　cut　before　they　registered　his　absence。　With　luck；　the　skiff　would　vanish　so　gradually　they　wouldn't　notice。　A　night　might　pass　before　someone　saw　the　slack　rope；　and　he　doubted　the　captain　would　waste　time　searching　for　a　missing　rowboat。　With　a　stroke　of　the　knife　then；　his　escape　was　plete。
　And　yet　there　were　those　children。
　Soaked　to　the　skin；　he　shuddered　violently。
　They　were　nothing　to　him。　Since　beginning　the　sea　voyage；　he'd　made　sure　the　children　kept　their　distance。　He　had　gone　to　lengths　not　to　hear　their　names　or　look　in　their　eyes　or　hear　their　songs。　Anyway；　even　if　he　wanted　to；　how　could　he　save　them？　He　was　not　their　father。　He　had　a　child　of　his　own　waiting　for　him。
　His　teeth　chattered。　He　looked　at　the　knife。Was　he　so　dead？
　He　searched　the　lifeboat　for　something；　a　weapon；　an　idea；　anything　to　spur　him　into　action。　A　rubber　bag　held　cans　of　food　and　some　bottles　of　water；　but　no　pistol　or　flare　gun。　He　was　nearly　as　helpless　as　the　children。　Now　what？　Throw　cans　of　food　at　the　pirates？　It　was　absurd。
　There　was　a　splash　in　the　water。　Nathan　Lee　felt　a　bump　against　the　skiff's　wooden　bottom。　He　trembled；　caught　between　extremes；　survival　or　martyrdom。
　There　was　another　splash。
　Nathan　Lee　couldn't　bear　to　listen　to　the　killing　anymore。　This　was　obscene；　his　lurking　in　the　wake。　He　couldn't　help。　He　couldn't　listen。　Rearing　up　through　the　slit　canvas；　he　leaned　for　the　bucking　prow　and　laid　his　knife　against　the　rope。　He　told　himself　not　to　look　up。　But　he　looked。
　Unbelievably；　the　pirates　still　did　not　see　him。　But　the　children　did。　There　were　only　three　remaining。　At　the　sight　of　him；　their　heads　perked　up。　They　blinked　as　if　a　jack…in…the…box　had　sprung　out　of