My feet hit the forest floor. Cypress needles poke my soles. High above us, tied to the very top of the tree, the amplifier swings in the wind, its antennae tucked into a thick cloud cover that now begins to spit down on us. Even in clear weather, you wouldn’t be able to see the small amplifier if you weren’t looking for it. This part of our mission went well. I only wish the weather had changed before we started climbing the observatory walls.
‘Four earbuds left. Until we are off the island, or until Kat tells us she’s picked up the signal, one of us will always wear one of these,’ Runner says and sticks the button into his ear. ‘We’ll switch every four to six hours.’
Once Kat receives the signals from the observatory, she should hear us, too. I don’t like her eavesdropping. ‘The clay’s itching. I want to get rid of it,’ I tell Runner.
We head back to our camp, then onwards to the stream, but in different directions. He’s walking farther downstream from me.
Soon, I stumble upon an enormous bathtub.
Water is thundering off the broad rock and straight into a pool rimmed by fern and blooming shrubs. Old cypresses shelter the secret place. The water reaches up to my knees when I stick my legs into it, and quickly grows deeper with each step. Soon, my feet lose contact with the sand and rocks below. I wash the white clay off, and pick clumps from my hair. The drumroll of water is mesmerising. I swim and let the waterfall push me down. Thunder in my ears and on my body makes me feel as if I’m in a small, pulsating universe of my own.
Thoughts of Runner and his drowning attempts creep in unbidden and I kick myself upwards, gulping fresh air when my head breaks the surface. I can still hear the sound of his voice, the taste of it is still on my tongue. Detached, that’s how he seemed. It made his story even sadder, tightening the grip it still has on me. I wonder if he ever learned to enjoy a good swim.
I roll in the pool until my skin is all goosebumpy, then make for the shore. The air is warm despite the light rain. I pick up the bandages that lie in a disorderly pile next to my clothes, dunk them into the pool and rub them clean. Although I’d rather not think of wounds caused by bullets, knives, or explosives, I know we’ll need the bandages one day. Who of us will make it? my mind whispers.
‘Shut up,’ I hiss and wring the water from the fabric.
Movement catches my eyes. Dark shapes flit underneath the water’s surface, and form a group of ten or fifteen in a corner of the pool. I snatch my clothes, get dressed, and run back to where I left Runner.
He’s leaning against a tree, his eyes sharp, brows drawn low. Droplets are rolling off his hair and into his lap where he holds the SatPad. ‘Can you do your planning and analysis thing while we catch fish?’
He shrugs. ‘Sure.’
A few minutes later, each of us holds a stick with line, hook, and an impaled, wriggling insect into the pool.
‘Did you ever learn how to swim?’ I ask cautiously.
‘Of course I did.’
‘Are you good at it?’
He narrows his eyes at me. A warning.
‘Yep, that’s what I thought. I can teach you.’
Runner is totally busy staring at the fish circling his bait.
‘There’s only one trick to it,’ I continue. ‘You have to allow the water to carry you, to pull you down, and lift you up again. You have to go with it, not against it. It’s like flying. Only…safer.’
My heart clenches at his sudden paleness. Then a fish bites and I have to let Runner off my hook.
‘I’ll start a fire, you clean the fish,’ he says, as he slaps the wriggling animal next to me on the rock, and walks away. I bash its head in with a stone. Eyes and tail relax at once. It looks a lot like a rainbow trout, only without the prism of colours. Since the fish is too small for both of us, I wait until another one bites, then I scale and gut the two, and head back.
Runner has already straightened the green tarp high above a small pile of wood. We can’t keep the fire burning long. Once night falls, the glow would be visible outside the cover of the tarp.
Silently, we watch the flames spring to life. I wrap the two fish in broad leaves and place the packages into the embers. The sizzling of food and crackling of the fire mingles with the sound of rain tapping on the tarp above our heads. The scents of wet earth and forest, of burnt wood and frying fish wash over me. This is all I need to feel whole. I don’t miss my former life one bit.
‘So,’ I say once I’ve swallowed the last bite of my lunch. ‘Will you tell me now what you are thinking?’
‘I believe the BSA came here to stay. It’s only an assumption. I need more information from Kat before I can be sure.’
‘Like what? I mean…what information do you need?’
‘If their forces are small, say ten to thirty men, we could take them down quickly without any problem. But they’ve wiped Taiwan clean, it seems. The question is: have part of their original forces left or is everyone still here? The latter is more likely, I think. Considering their control over satellites, the fact that they chose this isolated location to set up camp, and the possibility that they might turn this into their headquarters, I wonder if reinforcements are on the way. I need to know if there are any movements at sea or land that would indicate a plan to strengthen their position here. And I have to know what the Chinese satellite cluster can do, which of their systems was hacked.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s a big difference whether someone controls a weather satellite or a cluster of military and espionage satellites.’
The latter sounds somewhat more dangerous or sophisticated, but I don’t even really know what a weather satellite can do (except tell us when it’s raining, but I can do that by looking up at the sky), or how that one is any different from military satellites. Runner seems tense, worried. I opt for a diversion. ‘Okay. Let’s go for a swim. We have time. We don’t leave until nightfall.’
He coughs and slams a fist to his chest. ‘Bone,’ he explains and clears his throat violently.
‘You are scared. That’s okay. In an hour, you’ll love it. I promise.’
‘You are overly convinced of yourself.’ He stands, throws the chestnuts into the embers, and shovels handfuls of dirt on top.
‘One has to know one’s own qualities.’ I grin.
He frowns at me, arms crossed over his chest. ‘Okay, let’s go then.’ A casual and light remark. I know he’s faking it.
When we arrive at the pool, he takes off his pants and shirt, and stands there with only his shorts hugging his hips. I realise with shock that I didn’t think it all through to the end. Staring at Runner, I can’t help but count the battle scars. There’s one on his shoulder that looks like a bullet passed through it a few years ago. The scar on his neck is still thick and the blackish tint won’t ever go away. That’s where the wild dog mauled him. There’s another one just above the hipbone, right where… Shit, the whole man is made of raw physical power. The muscular edge curving along the top of his hipbones has nothing of the gently sloping contours of Yi-Ting’s body.
My stomach cramps. He squints at me in puzzlement and I begin to stutter, ‘Um…stupid idea. You are…you can drown the two of us. All that’s needed is a little panic and…’
‘Micka—’
‘I mean…if I were to panic, I could drown you if you are not prepared. You know, fear of death makes everyone strong as an ox. See this?’ I wave my hand at him. He looks down at himself and shrugs, as if the rippling of stomach muscles is totally harmless. ‘Dude, I’ll never get a good grip on you if you are about to drown and panic and then—’
‘I won’t panic.’
Of course he will! Or I will. A growl thrums in my chest. Shit. No excuses left. I look down at my pants and fumble with the waistband. My fingers quiver.
‘I, too, have scars,’ he says softly and I remember that he knows I’m a cutter. He’s even seen the 1/2986 carved into my lower arm.
‘Yeah, but you are…’ I bite my tongue. I was about to blurt out “beautiful.” That’d be so awkward I’d dig myself a hole and hide in it for weeks.
‘You are, too,’ he says.
I burst out laughing. This man is nuts.
He crosses his arms over his chest.
Hoping he’ll soon put his shirt back on, I tear my eyes off him and stare up at the treetops. If all fails, I’ll pretend to be annoyed.
‘You are a warrior and warriors have scars. Suck it up. Now show me your swimming skills.’
My cheeks grow hot. I give him a stiff nod and put my hands back to my waistband to pull the strings tighter. I don’t want my pants to slide down when they are wet and heavy.
Runner grins and shakes his head. ‘I guess I’m supposed to go in?’
‘Yep.’
As we walk into the pool, his body tenses with insecurity. What a contrast to his always so sure and calm demeanour. Now, I regret I asked this of him.
‘The pool is deepest over there,’ I point at the waterfall. ‘We’ll swim there later, but not now.’
He looks at it, then up at the gap in the foliage. The rain has stopped, but the clouds are still thick.
‘Ready?’ I ask.
He shrugs. ‘I told you I can swim.’
‘Yeah, but you wanted me to show you how to swim across the swamp. I won’t even consider teaching you that if you can’t show me a few good strokes in normal…I mean, liquid water. Not mud.’ Boy, I’m glad I found a reasonable excuse. Because most of all I don’t believe he can swim. He gets all flustered when water reaches to his hip. He might be able to hold himself above the water for a few minutes, but that has nothing to do with swimming.
‘And I want you to enjoy it. Come.’ I hold out my hand.
He raises an eyebrow.
‘Pretend you trust me.’
We walk farther into the pool until the water licks at my chest. ‘We’ll dive now, straight down, no fancy stuff. Keep your eyes open and do what I do.’
Not waiting for his consent, I plunge head first into the cold. Silvery bubbles swirl around me. Grabbing a rock at the bottom, I watch Runner copying my moves. I pull myself down and press my stomach against the rock’s smooth surface. He pulls himself farther down too, then lets go and floats up. I twist my neck to keep an eye on him. His legs kick, his head is above the surface. Then he sticks his face underwater, looking where I am. I grin and wait. He’ll be nervous now. And then, he dives back down to check if I’m still alive. His black eyes are huge when he touches my cheek. I show him a broad smile and we rise to the surface together.
He wipes the water off his face and gazes at me. Something is ticking in his head. He opens his mouth, closes it again, takes a deep breath, and then says, ‘I’ll be your student. I need to know how you can hold your breath for such a long time, how you swim and dive without producing noise. And you have to teach me how you swam across the swamp. I want to be able to use the water the way you do.’
Here comes the strategist and effective killer. No more fear, only tactics. With a sudden shiver, I remember the night when he told me that he’s a sniper and a strategist. People call him The Executor. ‘I execute decisions and people,’ he’d said. No doubt he will learn to use the water to his best advantage.
‘It’s all about trust. Trust me now. Then learn to trust the water. Ready?’
He gives me a nod and I dive. The blurry underwater world is rushing past my vision. The turbulences produced by the waterfall and the bubbles of air are tickling my skin and give the impression of the pool tumbling this way and that. I grab a rock and search for Runner. He’s just behind me and right next to me a moment later. I point at my ears, pinch my nose and squeeze my eyes shut. He does the same, loses his grip, and floats up. I follow.
‘The pressure on your ear drums can be equilibrated in two ways,’ I tell him. ‘You can pinch your nose shut and blow gently. Yeah, like this. Or you make a yawning movement at the back of your throat. I prefer the latter, because it’s gentler on the ears and I have both hands free.’
Now, it’s he who dives first. I watch him hold on to a rock for a long moment, then he comes up again. ‘I think I got it. What’s next?’
I grin. ‘If you feel somewhat comfortable with diving, we dive all the way through the waterfall and to the other side. The waterfall will force you down and you’ll lose your orientation if you don’t focus on swimming straight through. I’ll be right at your side. Ready?’
He assesses the distance, and nods. He doesn’t look at me.
‘One. Two. Three,’ I say, inhale deeply and we jump together. I dive next to him and watch his moves. He’s unsteady but his strokes are strong. He swims straight into the white mass of boiling water and I lose sight of him. When I come out on the other side, he’s gone. I kick at the water to reach the bottom of the pool and there I glimpse a hand and a leg flailing in the white turmoil. I grab his wrist and pull. A second hand comes down on my upper arm. There’s panic in his iron grip. I yank him closer, and box his chest. He looks at me, eyes darting around, unsure where is up and where is down. I yank his arm again. Only a short moment later, he meets my gaze. His senses seem to be coming back. We both kick at the ground and shoot upwards.
‘Hold on to this,’ I cough and slap my hand against the rock wall. That was what I meant about panicking and the two of us drowning.
‘I’ll do this again. You wait here.’
He doesn’t even give me enough time to tell him to breathe, and to calm down first. Off he swims, around the waterfall and to the other side of the pool. Through the curtain of water, I see him dive. I dive straight down to meet him. But he’s not there. I swim into the white and don’t see a trace of him. The water presses me down to the bottom and there I find something smooth and warm. And not moving. Shocked, I grab his waist and pull. I’m so relieved when I feel him swimming with me.
‘What the heck happened?’ I splutter.
‘I was counting to twenty. You interrupted.’ He tries to look disappointed, but there’s pride glittering in his eyes just before he takes yet another plunge.
I swim and dive and roll around in the water, pretending to be a fish, while keeping an eye on him. He’s growing bolder with each dive. Odd, how proud this makes me.
When the clouds gradually thin, and I begin to feel like an icicle, it’s time for us to leave.
‘That was probably the shortest teacher-student relationship in the history of humankind.’ I shake the water from my hair and wring out my shirt.
‘I have a lot to learn,’ he replies. ‘You swam through a swamp, with your rifle, no less. I’ve never even heard of anyone doing that, let alone coming out alive. Or coming out at all.’ He regards me with a boyish grin and taps his knuckles to my shoulder. I could get used to this. ‘You are a good teacher, Micka. Quite relentless.’
‘You… You too,’ I stutter, half-ashamed. ‘Your other apprentices must be very good at tactics and sniping and…’ I break off when I see his scowl.
‘The only apprentice I ever took stands before me.’ He strolls off before I can ask another question.
I find him back at our fireplace, digging out the roasted chestnuts with a stick.
‘Let them cool down a little and keep half of them for dinner.’ He holds out the stick to me and I start digging while he places our ghillies on the forest floor.
‘I’ll take the earbud for now. There’s the water in our ears from diving and we should switch more often.’.
He removes his earbud and sticks it into his shirt pocket, then gives me one earbud from his ruck. Silently, he bends over his ghillie and begins replacing some of the grass tufts with green leaves and twigs from a bush. I modify my camouflage similarly to his. He’s perfect at this. People could walk right past him without knowing he’s there, while they’ve been in his crosshairs ever since they entered his one kilometre radius. You own them. You own their lives, echoes in my head. That was what Runner said to me the first day I gazed through the scope of his rifle.
Whoever shows up in my finder, I own them.
Somehow, owning someone feels more wrong to me than owning someone’s life. But the difference might be too subtle for the owned ones to notice.
Later today, we’ll bury much of our equipment here. One MedKit, eighty percent of the ammo we carry, the hammocks, mosquito nets, and blankets, two water filters, the hacksaw, and two squeeze lights, plus the fire starting kit. We’ll need the stuff when we return. Lighter, we’ll travel much faster. Once our ghillies have been adapted to the vegetation farther down, we’ll travel the last stretch to the meeting point during bright daylight, then wait for the machine’s arrival at nightfall.