按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
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 nowhere。
On an impulse； he beckoned to them。Jump； he thought。 That was their salvation。 He would cut loose and fish them from the water； one by one。 The sailors wouldn't see him。 It was possible。 All the children had to do was make the leap。
He waved again； not a broad gesture； but a clear onee with me。 The notion filled him with sudden joy。 A boatload of children！ He pictured them reaching the shores of America together。
Jump！He motioned again。 They understood。 Their eyes grew bigger。。。but not with hope。
Believe in me；he thought。 But they recognized him。 He was the lone wolf from the front of the trawler； the man who had snarled at them when their games strayed too close。 Their parents had scolded them if they went near him。 And now； for all they knew； he was part of their punishment； a monstrous blackbearded fisherman waiting to do more dreadful things once the sailors threw them into the water。 At least the sailors were smiling at them。
So； of course they did not jump。
Nathan Lee could not bear to watch the pirates finish。 He slid back beneath the canvas； shuddering with cold； and lay heaped among the mess of gear； too weak to move； not even caring if the sailors found him。
Darkness seeped over him。 Night or despair； it was all the same。 Even in his worst hours in Tibet； he had never felt so alone。 He did not believe in God。 It was not a matter of doubt。 He did not believe。 And yet…strangely…he had only God as a culprit。 From the plague to this slaughter of innocents； the evil went beyond human wickedness； beyond the workings of an indifferent universe。 Maybe the French woman was right； God was simply hitting the delete key and starting over from scratch。
The waves hammered his little boat； beating him against the wood struts。 They were dragging him back to the graveyard of Asia。 He tried to summon up the face of his daughter； but she was hiding from him。 He remembered the looks of horror on the children's faces。 At last； Nathan Lee remembered the knife。 He crawled up through the canvas covering and cut the rope； and the sea grew still。 He was alone。
* * *
*
HE DRIFTED ALL NIGHT； shivering； legs stuck in the emptied rubber bag； shoulders and head wrapped in sailcloth。 Slowly his warmth returned； enough of it to function。 In the morning； he figured out the mast。 It was only two feet taller than he was。 The pole fit into a socket and had a crosspiece。 The sail was little more than what he'd already used it for； a bedsheet。 But once he got the parts assembled； it caught the wind。
He was no sailor。 He obeyed his little pass； due east。 When the wind grew too boisterous； he pulled the sail down and rowed。 When the air calmed； he put the sail up again。 Three days passed。
The sea grew strange。
On the second night； he heard gulls and thought his boat was reaching land。 He pushed his head through the rent canvas ceiling； and there was no land。 Rather a gigantic ship was silently bearing down on him。
It was lit like a city； with an immense flat deck that tabled out above the waters。 It was an aircraft carrier； and could only be American。 〃Help；〃 he shouted。 He stood and waved his arms。 With the last of his matches； he lit a few pages torn from his book and held the little torch above his head。 The scraps of flame lasted mere seconds。 He kept flapping his arm in the air。
The waters were still； not a whisper of wind。 The carrier drew nearer。 It soared in the night； a vast silent metropolis。 He didn't see a single person up there。 Clouds of gulls swarmed in the lights； barking and cawing。 〃Hello；〃 he yelled。 〃Help！〃 Now he could see the American flag drifting in the ship's self…made breeze。
It became evident the carrier would miss him by a good twenty or thirty yards。 A metal staircase ran down one side； almost to water level。 There was not one thing he could do to get closer。 Even if his sail had been set； there was no wind。 He wiggled the rudder to try and row himself。
USSTruman； the prow proclaimed。 The gray steel wall towered overhead； four or five stories high。 Now he