Alexandra Duncan - Salvage

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“What can you do, you know?” He drops his eyes to the water, and then looks over and gives me a half smile. “At least we’re here.”

“We are,” I agree.

A silence follows. I trace the names in the stone again.

“Thank you,” I say without looking up. “For tonight.”

“I’m just glad I got you to do something other than work,” Rushil teases.

I shrug. “It’s what I’ve got to do. For Miyole.”

“I get that.” Rushil nods. “But you’ve got to take care of yourself, too.”

I look up at him, trying to draw the sense from what he’s said.

“What?” A self-conscious smile picks at the corner of his mouth.

“Nothing,” I say, and smile back. “I’m happy, is all. I’m glad I came tonight.”

“Me too.” Rushil hops down onto the sidewalk and holds out his hand to help me down from the wall. “Let’s go home.”

T wo blocks away from the shipyard, a crowd of boys shoves past us, running full tilt. One of them lets out a whoop as he knocks Rushil into the chain-link fence along the side of the road.

Rushil picks himself up. “Pankaj?”

The older boy wheels around, eyes lit up with glee. He gives us the same sign with his fingers that Perpétue taught me on Bhutto station and dashes off into the night. Rushil stands frozen, staring after him.

I clutch Rushil’s arm. “What’s he doing here?”

Rushil doesn’t answer. He grabs my hand instead and pulls me into a run. “Come on.”

The moment the shipyard comes into view, I know something is wrong. All the floodlights are on, washing the perimeter in something brighter and colder than daylight, and smoke clouds the air. An alarm blares up in a long, winding howl, then trips off and winds up again. The sound rings through to the marrow of my bones. Rushil and I exchange a look.

Miyole.

I let go of his hand and dash for the fence. The section near the entry gate is blown apart. The razor wire still curls along the top bar, but below, the mesh bows inward and splits into two blackened sections, leaving a hole wide enough to drive a small vehicle through. I stop at the opening. The sharp bite of ozone hangs in the air, and beneath it something sickly sweet.

“Miyole?” I try to shout above the alarm.

A metal barrel lies on its side against Rushil’s trailer. Small puddles of liquid burn around it, licking at the siding and sending up a thick, ugly cloud of smoke.

“Chaila,” Rushil curses and runs for the flames, ripping off his jacket.

I duck through after him. The sick-sweet burning smell grows stronger. Mercies, please let her be in the sloop. Please let her be safe. I pull my shirt up over my nose and run.

Our vessel looms out of the smoke, lit by the flashing perimeter lights and then plunged into night again. I sprint for the hatch.

“Miyole!” The alarm blares on, deafening. I bang on the sloop’s side and scream again. “Miyole, it’s me. It’s Ava!” The door stays sealed. I spin around, searching for Rushil, but I can’t see anything through the smoke clouding the passage to his trailer. I should never have left her alone, not even for a few hours. Not with what I knew about Wailers and thieves. Mercies, please, let her be smarter than me. Let her be safe in the ship.

“Miyole!” I try again, thumping my fist against the sloop’s hatch. “It’s—”

Suddenly, the lights stop their flashing and the alarm cuts off. My voice rings out in the silence. “—Ava. Are you in there?”

A muffled thunk echoes from inside the sloop, and then the hatch rattles open. Miyole crouches by the opening mechanism, eyes wide, one arm tight around Pala’s neck.

“Mercies.” I run to her side.

She clings to me, utterly silent and shaking. Relief floods me, and then guilt. I never should have left her alone to go do something so foolish. A musical. What was I thinking?

You weren’t. You’re the same selfish girl you always were.

“I couldn’t find you, Ava.” Miyole says into my shoulder. “There were men outside trying to get in the gate, and I couldn’t find you, so I got Pala and sealed the door and stayed quiet.”

“You did the right thing.” I hug her tighter. “I’m so sorry. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“What happened?” She lets go of my neck and looks at me.

“I don’t know. But I think Rushil does.”

I tramp through the smoke and harsh lights, carrying Miyole. Pala runs ahead. We come upon Rushil kicking dirt over the small pools of flame beside his trailer to stop the fire from spreading. I put Miyole down. A small knot of people have gathered near the hole in the fence. I spot Shruti among them, laughing about something with the woman who owns the shipyard across the way. Bad fortune for their competition means good fortune for them, I guess.

Rushil lifts the drum upright with a grunt and steps back to inspect it. “Looks like they used thermite on the gate, but this is only gasoline. A lot of smoke and fire, but no real damage done.” He looks up and catches sight of me and Miyole, her face smudged with ash where she’s been rubbing at her eyes.

“Oh, God.” He takes a step toward us. “They didn’t hurt her, did they?”

I don’t stop. My limbs hum with rage and fear. “What happened?” I shove him in the chest. “You said you were done with them! Why were they here?”

I catch him off guard, and he goes down in the puddle of gasoline. Confusion flits across his face, then a flash of anger. For a slip, I think he’s going to stand and swing at me.

“I am done with them.” He picks himself up. “If I was still with them, why would they try to set my house on fire and blow up my gate?” He swings an arm wildly at the twisted fence.

“Why would they do it either way?” I’m shouting now. I know I’m not making much sense, but I can’t seem to stop.

“Because they want me back!” Rushil turns away and kicks the drum so hard it falls over in the dirt with a hollow thunk. “They’re trying to scare me into it, show me what they can do if I don’t. Chaila.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” My body ticks with anger. “You knew they were after you and you let me leave Miyole here alone?”

Rushil runs his hands through his sooty hair. “They’re always threatening me, okay? Anytime I run across them and they remember I exist, they start up again.”

We fall silent. We both know I’m the reason they remembered him this time, me and my work tag.

Rushil looks at Miyole. His jaw and fists clench tight. “Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“No.” I answer for her. “She’s frightened, is all. She locked herself inside the ship with Pala when she heard them coming.”

“Smart kid.”

I sit down hard on Rushil’s front step and bury my head in my hands. Being smart will only take Miyole so far. It’s too dangerous here. She could have been killed when the gate blew. She could have been taken by Wailers, and all because I let Rushil distract me. I let him talk some nonsense about having fun, taking care of myself, and I nearly lost Miyole again.

“It’s not good enough.” I shake my head. Perpétue was wrong. It’s not enough to try to do good. What comes out in the end matters, too.