CHAPTER TWELVE
Parker staggered to his feet, and went over to the porthole. The sea was deceptively calm. Another ship was foundering on the rocks, and it looked like it was about to go under. Lamech made out it name, the Cassandra, an appropriate designation seeing it was doomed. However it was already past zero nineteen hundred, and he could see no movement about which meant the passengers either had escaped or drowned He could not see the four rowboats of the other ship heading towards the shore. However, he was sure they were all alive and with their identification gone, they officially did not exist. This would make them easier to track down.
He threw the other jacket away and took his own off the coat rack, stuffing the pockets with as much cash as he could carry. He then went to the passengers' quarters, and searched under the cots for their suitcases and found nothing. That meant that the information to recreate this experiment was in the hands of the parents of these future freaks.
He went back to the Captain's quarters, hoping that perhaps they had stored their valuables in the safe. With Reichart and Fitzpatrick dead, they would not have time to take them. He opened it, and his eyes glazed as he counted the various bills and coins, his mouth slavered as he saw the diamonds, rubies, pearls, gold, and other small valuables. They had converted most of their wealth into the smallest size possible. There were also several notes listing various gold and silver exchanges in Mexico City. Parker lit a match and burned these. They would do the passengers no good and besides he had better use for this treasure, but how to carry it. He needed more than his jacket.
Only one lifeboat remained. Even though it would require two men plus more to pull it down, he gradually lowered it, as he watched the sky grow blacker and the stars fill the sky. . By the time, it was within reach, it was near midnight. Half tired from exhaustion; Parker crawled in the boat, lowered it to the sea, and took the oars.
It was hard going, but Parker knew the currents since a boy. He avoided the dangerous shallow part, skirted past the bay, and landed near the cliffs. And it appeared he was not the only one.
A few men and women were climbing up towards the highway. By the dampness of their clothes and their unkempt hair, bruises, and their small belongings, they must have been from the second ship. Parker walked closer, keeping his eyes on the ground, noticing marks from galoshes and ladies' shoes in the damp muck.
One of the men from the group called to the others, to follow him and traced the path where the passengers of the Grand Illusion had walked and this man carried a large metal cash box. He had the passports. Sensing his chance, Parker avoided the trodden way and climbed up the cliff, hiding behind the trees, and finally came upon a gravel road that led towards the back part of Blue Cove, the small settlement that grew around the Centre. As it was, he was familiar with this short cut. He hid behind a tree and waited, his gun drawn.
The shot, muffled by a scarf, sent the man to the ground, and the metal box clanking to the grass. Quickly, Parker rushed in, grabbed the box, and raised his revolver. He was just about to finish him out when he heard a woman's voice nearby.
"Jarold, waar bent u?"
Parker looked at his revolver, considering whether to kill this woman or to disappear. When he saw she was not alone, but had the rest of the passengers of the Cassandra with her, he faded back into the trees. He then opened the box, examined the passports, certificates, noted the photographs, and very methodically tore them into pieces, but he was not finished. He had to see which one of the men guarded his suitcase or leather satchel just a little too close and then he spotted him, but he needed help. That satchel was just too unusual. Parker needed help. He went to the nearest phonebook and made a call.
An hour later, a sedan drove up, and a man tossed out an identical leather satchel.
"I don't know why you wanted this Mr. Parker," he said, "You really should see your boy. He's asking for you."
"I'll see him later. Did you do what I instructed?"
"Yes, made it heavy and I had Timmy try it out. He's about the same weight as the man you described. He'll never know the difference"
Half an hour later, Parker was entering the shack where the man with the leather satchel was staying. He could see him opening a can of soup stolen from the store, his bag still not open. Besides him, his wife chopped several beans and tried to add them to the soup. Parker switched the satchels and then returned to where he met the man in the sedan.
"Burn this," he ordered.
"Everything?"
"Yes, I want to see you do it."
They drove up the road to a large imposing building that seemed to stretch on for miles. They entered through the gate, went up the steps, and then along a hallway to an elevator. Still holding the satchel between them, the two men tossed it in the furnace.
"Now I'll know exactly how many there will be," said Parker as he watched the evidence disappear in the flames. .
Parker staggered to his feet, and went over to the porthole. The sea was deceptively calm. Another ship was foundering on the rocks, and it looked like it was about to go under. Lamech made out it name, the Cassandra, an appropriate designation seeing it was doomed. However it was already past zero nineteen hundred, and he could see no movement about which meant the passengers either had escaped or drowned He could not see the four rowboats of the other ship heading towards the shore. However, he was sure they were all alive and with their identification gone, they officially did not exist. This would make them easier to track down.
He threw the other jacket away and took his own off the coat rack, stuffing the pockets with as much cash as he could carry. He then went to the passengers' quarters, and searched under the cots for their suitcases and found nothing. That meant that the information to recreate this experiment was in the hands of the parents of these future freaks.
He went back to the Captain's quarters, hoping that perhaps they had stored their valuables in the safe. With Reichart and Fitzpatrick dead, they would not have time to take them. He opened it, and his eyes glazed as he counted the various bills and coins, his mouth slavered as he saw the diamonds, rubies, pearls, gold, and other small valuables. They had converted most of their wealth into the smallest size possible. There were also several notes listing various gold and silver exchanges in Mexico City. Parker lit a match and burned these. They would do the passengers no good and besides he had better use for this treasure, but how to carry it. He needed more than his jacket.
Only one lifeboat remained. Even though it would require two men plus more to pull it down, he gradually lowered it, as he watched the sky grow blacker and the stars fill the sky. . By the time, it was within reach, it was near midnight. Half tired from exhaustion; Parker crawled in the boat, lowered it to the sea, and took the oars.
It was hard going, but Parker knew the currents since a boy. He avoided the dangerous shallow part, skirted past the bay, and landed near the cliffs. And it appeared he was not the only one.
A few men and women were climbing up towards the highway. By the dampness of their clothes and their unkempt hair, bruises, and their small belongings, they must have been from the second ship. Parker walked closer, keeping his eyes on the ground, noticing marks from galoshes and ladies' shoes in the damp muck.
One of the men from the group called to the others, to follow him and traced the path where the passengers of the Grand Illusion had walked and this man carried a large metal cash box. He had the passports. Sensing his chance, Parker avoided the trodden way and climbed up the cliff, hiding behind the trees, and finally came upon a gravel road that led towards the back part of Blue Cove, the small settlement that grew around the Centre. As it was, he was familiar with this short cut. He hid behind a tree and waited, his gun drawn.
The shot, muffled by a scarf, sent the man to the ground, and the metal box clanking to the grass. Quickly, Parker rushed in, grabbed the box, and raised his revolver. He was just about to finish him out when he heard a woman's voice nearby.
"Jarold, waar bent u?"
Parker looked at his revolver, considering whether to kill this woman or to disappear. When he saw she was not alone, but had the rest of the passengers of the Cassandra with her, he faded back into the trees. He then opened the box, examined the passports, certificates, noted the photographs, and very methodically tore them into pieces, but he was not finished. He had to see which one of the men guarded his suitcase or leather satchel just a little too close and then he spotted him, but he needed help. That satchel was just too unusual. Parker needed help. He went to the nearest phonebook and made a call.
An hour later, a sedan drove up, and a man tossed out an identical leather satchel.
"I don't know why you wanted this Mr. Parker," he said, "You really should see your boy. He's asking for you."
"I'll see him later. Did you do what I instructed?"
"Yes, made it heavy and I had Timmy try it out. He's about the same weight as the man you described. He'll never know the difference"
Half an hour later, Parker was entering the shack where the man with the leather satchel was staying. He could see him opening a can of soup stolen from the store, his bag still not open. Besides him, his wife chopped several beans and tried to add them to the soup. Parker switched the satchels and then returned to where he met the man in the sedan.
"Burn this," he ordered.
"Everything?"
"Yes, I want to see you do it."
They drove up the road to a large imposing building that seemed to stretch on for miles. They entered through the gate, went up the steps, and then along a hallway to an elevator. Still holding the satchel between them, the two men tossed it in the furnace.
"Now I'll know exactly how many there will be," said Parker as he watched the evidence disappear in the flames. .