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a trap。 They had shipped aboard a slaughterhouse。 Not that there was much choice。 The coastal cities were polyglot nightmares jammed with Asians and Russians frantic for passage to North America。 You paid or you stayed。
Nathan Lee counted nineteen children among the passengers。 He counted the women。 He counted the men and pared them to the crew； who were few but carried guns。 Maybe if there had been more men among the refugees。。。but there were not。 Their fate was sealed。 After deciding that； Nathan Lee stayed to himself and refused to speak with anyone； even when they tried a few words in English。 They began to treat at him as an omen huddled at the prow。
The March sea was gray and choppy。 To make room for more passengers； the trawler was towing its lifeboat behind on a fifty…foot line。 It was a mere skiff； as shabby as the trawler。 A sheet of stretched canvas held out the waves。 Overhead the mackerel sky was slashed with gangrene and black。
The crew waited a few days before starting in on them； letting the bad food and cold and seasickness deplete their prey。 Three women were taken below deck。 Everyone could hear their cries； but even their husbands kept stony faces and did not move to rescue them。 Nathan Lee saw the awful shock as the refugees realized they were captives。 Just the same； they seemed to believe everything would still turn out all right； that the raping would satisfy the sailors。 The Alaskan coast lay just three days away。
In the morning； only two of the women were returned to the open deck。 The husband of the missing woman stood up to protest； but a giant； scarred sailor struck him across the face。 Again the refugees found hope。 After all； the sailor had merely struck the husband； not killed him。 Three other women were herded down the stairs。
Every hour； Nathan Lee secretly checked his pass。 The trawler was still moving due east； beneath the Arctic Circle。 Soon enough it would surely circle back to the Russian coast。 The turn would be wide and imperceptible。 The passengers would never 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 th