Ship Breaker (Ship Breaker #1)(78)

Nailer almost laughed. He clawed at the edge of the ship, and slowly hauled himself through the hole. Nita grabbed him under his arm, yanked at his shirt, dragging him higher. He scrabbled for a grip on the slippery hull. Another wave surged over them, but he was braced this time, and when it passed, he clawed his way out with Nita dragging him. At last he swung his legs out of the hold, and clung, gasping, to the hull.

Rain poured down over them. Nita lay beside him, her black hair hanging like thick wet snakes around her face. Lightning cracked bright and hard, blinding after the darkness of the ship. More rain sheeted down. A hundred meters away, Dauntless lay anchored, churning in the storm.

“That’s where we’re going,” Nailer said.

“What? No water taxi?”

Despite himself, Nailer grinned. “You swanks always want it easy.”

“Yeah.” Her expression turned solemn as she stared at the Dauntless. “Sink or swim, right?”

“Pretty much.”

She squinted into the rain. “I’ve swum farther,” she said. “We can do this.”

She tore off her shoes and waited until the next wave surged over them, then dove with it, letting its force carry her forward. She bobbed like a fish. Nailer said a prayer to the Fates, thinking of the disappeared captain of the Pole Star, and followed her in.

The sea swallowed him in churn and roar. Every time he kicked, his ankle exploded with pain. He paddled frantically for what he thought was the surface. Waves tried to suck him down. He flailed, struggling to find air. Clawed at foam and came up gasping. Another wave sucked him down. He tumbled. He fought again to free himself from the hungry depths and came up coughing and sputtering. Sucked air. Kicked and gasped with pain.

“Float it!” Nita shouted. “Let the current pull you!” She was riding the waves beside him. One curled over her and she dipped under and came up again, swimming strongly. “Don’t fight it!” she shouted. And then she was up beside him, supporting him. Helping him swim.

He was surprised to see that she was smiling, and then they were swirling forward and the waves were all around and he could see there was a rhythm to them. They were past the Teeth and out of the vortex and now, suddenly, the current was on their side, pushing them forward, taking them exactly where they wanted to go.

Dauntless loomed over them.

Life rings sailed over the side, splashing into the swirl and froth. Nailer wondered briefly who controlled the ship and then realized that he didn’t really care. He and Lucky Girl paddled for the life rings, stretching for salvation.

25

“Killing always costs.”

It was Pima’s mother, sitting beside him, both of them staring out at the sea. Nailer had told her what had happened on Pole Star, and was surprised to find himself crying, and then he had simply stopped. Now he seemed to feel nothing at all, just a strange hollow space under his ribs that refused to go away.

“He was bad news,” she said. “I don’t say that about many people, but Richard Lopez left a lot of hurt behind him.”

“Yeah,” Nailer agreed. But still, it didn’t feel right. His dad had been crazy and destructive and if he was honest, downright evil. But now that he was dead, Nailer couldn’t help remembering other times as well, times when the man hadn’t been high, when he’d laughed at jokes, when they’d roasted a pig on the beach, good times. Safe times, his father smiling and telling stories about people who had made big scores. Lucky Strikes every one of them.

“He wasn’t all bad,” he murmured.

“No.” Sadna shook her head. “But he wasn’t good. Not at the end. And not for a long time before.”

“Yeah, I know that. He would have killed me if I hadn’t killed him.”

“But that’s not helping you, is it?”

“No.”

She laughed sadly. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

Nailer looked at her, puzzled.

“Richard never felt a thing when he hurt people. Just didn’t give a damn. It’s good that you feel something. Trust me. Even if it hurts, it’s good.”

“I don’t know.” Nailer stared at the sea. “Maybe you’re wrong. I—” He hesitated. “I was glad when I killed him. Really glad. I remember seeing all those levers and knowing just what I had to do. And I did it.” He looked up at Sadna. “As soon as I heard the machines kick on, I knew I’d won. I felt like a Lucky Strike. It was better than anything. Better than getting out of the oil room. Better than finding Lucky Girl’s wreck. I was alive and he wasn’t, and I felt strong. Really strong.”

“And now?”

“I don’t know…” Nailer shrugged. “Blue Eyes. Now him.” He looked at Sadna. “Tool said I was just like my dad when I pigstuck Blue Eyes—”

“You’re not—”

“Maybe I am, right? I don’t feel a thing. Not a damn thing. I was glad when I did it. And now I don’t feel anything at all. I’m empty. Just empty.”

“And that scares you.”

“You said my dad didn’t feel anything when he hurt people.”

Sadna reached over and took Nailer’s chin, turned his gaze so he couldn’t look away. “Listen, Nailer. You’re not your dad. If you were your dad, you’d be down on the beach, drinking with your friends, looking for a girl to keep you company tonight, and feeling pleased with yourself. You wouldn’t be up here worrying about why you don’t feel worse.”