Vladimir Todorov - Archipelago N.Y. - Flynn

“Let me take over for a bit,” Tony pleaded with Flynn, ten minutes into the race. “You’re exhausted!”

“I’m fine! You’ve done more than enough,” Flynn said as he pushed harder on the pedals. Pharrell’s raft was heading down Broad Street Canal, clearly in the lead now. Chasing after him was not going to work, and Flynn knew it. “We’ll take a short cut!” he said, making a sharp right turn.

Flynn managed to swerve into a narrow alleyway between two buildings. It was so tight that the sides of the Seeker scraped the walls. At the end of the short stretch, Flynn took a left into another alleyway, then right again. He kept zigzagging like that for a while, skirting round corners. Tony had gone extremely quiet. Flynn glanced at his friend and saw that his face had turned green, his knuckles white from squeezing the edge of his seat.

“You gonna be sick?”

“I’ll be fine, amigo,” Tony said through clenched teeth. “Keep going!”

“Hang in there! One more turn… and we’re out!”

Flynn pressed ahead. His legs felt like they were on fire, but he tried to ignore the burning pain. As he exited the narrow alley and was about to rejoin the race path, Flynn caught a sharp movement with the corner of his eye. Seconds later, something rammed the Seeker from behind and spun the raft around. Suddenly, Flynn found himself face to face with the Gallagher twins.

“You crazy?” Flynn yelled as he fought to regain control of his raft.

Both Gallaghers seemed possessed with unspeakable rage… There was a look of sheer madness in their eyes as they backed up for another attack on the Seeker . The twins worked their pedals like a well-oiled machine, and within seconds another violent blow followed the first. The force of the impact sent Flynn’s raft crashing against the wall behind. Losing his balance, Tony was thrown out of his seat. Just as he was about to fall overboard, Flynn grabbed him by the belt of his shorts and yanked him back. The Seeker was now pinned between the wall and the Gallagher raft. One of the twins jumped from his seat, a long spear in his hand.

“Hand over the target and your map, Perry!” The boy stood legs apart, pointing the spear at Flynn.

“Don’t be stupid, man! You know you won’t get away with this!”

“Oh yeah?” the Gallagher twin growled. He flicked his wrist, and the spear went through one of the barrels supporting Flynn’s raft. The boy withdrew the spear and water rushed immediately into the jagged hole. “I’m gonna sink your sorry ass!” The Gallagher twin aimed his spear at the next barrel and yelled, “Here goes…!”

Flynn’s eyes darkened. He clenched and unclenched his fists. The twins were tough and strong… Fighting both of them was out of the question. The twin poked another hole in the barrel. Laughing hard, he was now taking aim to do it again. Flynn’s body tensed, ready for action.

As if reading his mind, Tony whispered, “Flynn, don’t!”

But Flynn ignored his friend’s warning. He had his eyes focused on the spear and the hand holding it.

“This should do it, now,” cried the twin as the spear flew in the air for the third time.

But Flynn was faster… He sprang up and caught the weapon, spun around and in one swift movement slashed the ropes holding the front barrels under the Gallagher raft.

It all took less than a second. The twins didn’t even have the time to cry out as Flynn placed his foot on their raft and kicked its hull away from the Seeker . Freed from the ropes, the barrels began to float off, leaving the Gallagher raft to tilt dangerously without their support. There was a loud snap as the front end of the twins’ platform broke apart and collapsed on itself. Arms flailing, the twins lost their footing, slid down the deck and with a loud splash, both fell into the water.

“Let’s get out of here!” cried Flynn. He tossed the spear overboard, sat back next to Tony and began to steer the Seeker away from all the debris of the Gallagher raft.

“Wow!” said Tony. “How the hell did you do that?”

Flynn just shrugged, pressed on the pedals, leaving the twins shouting and cursing behind him… A few moments later, he rounded the corner and was back on Broad Street Canal. There was no one ahead of him! His tactic had worked… He could clearly see the space where the canal ended and merged with the final stretch of the race. One more right turn there, and he would be within sight of the finishing line.

But then he heard the splashing of pedals. Turning, he saw that Pharrell was just a few feet behind the Seeker and going very fast. Their eyes met for a brief second. “Good to see you again, you sneaky bastard!” the boy yelled.

Flynn didn’t waste time replying. The docking platform was now two hundred yards ahead. The silhouettes of Duncan Roth and his group were clearly defined in the distance. This was it… One last push and Flynn would be the winner! “We’re almost there, Tony!” he shouted. “We can do it!”

“Flynn!” Tony cried. “Look!”

Flynn glanced to his right and saw Pharrell’s raft overtaking the Seeker . Pharrell had switched seats with his buddy Clay again, and they were gliding ahead effortlessly. Flynn’s raft was again left rocking in their wake. “Damn it!” Flynn spat and pushed harder. Victory had seemed so close, and now he was watching it slip away…

“It’s all right, Flynn!” said Tony. “Second place’s OK…”

“It’s not OK!” Flynn grunted in frustration… Pharrell was far ahead now. Flynn knew he couldn’t go any faster. His leg muscles were beginning to cramp up, the pain becoming excruciating unbearable… Only the adrenalin, rushing through his veins, kept his body going through the motions.

Suddenly, Pharrell’s raft slowed down, almost coming to a stop. Quickly, the Seeker gained the distance between them. “What are you doing?” Flynn shouted as he overtook Pharrell’s raft.

“I owe you one!” Pharrell said. “Go ahead, brother! Show’em who’s boss!”

Flynn’s surprise lasted only a second. He nodded his thanks and then pressed ahead… If the roles had been reversed, he would have done the same for Pharrell… Divers had a very strict code of honor and Pharrell was proof of how it worked… The same couldn’t be said of the Gallaghers, thought Flynn, clenching his jaw.

The Scavenger Dock was coming closer. A large crowd of spectators had gathered round the buildings directly behind it, cheering on the race. Flynn could now see Duncan Roth’s expressionless face, his eyes locked on him. Flynn glanced back. Pharrell was following at a leisurely pace, just a few feet behind. And then, the moment Flynn had dreamt of for so many years was finally upon him… The Seeker glided over the finishing line and bumped hard against the tires lining the platform. A celebratory roar rose over Flynn and Tony’s heads… A moment later, Pharrell’s raft slid in next to them. After securing the Seeker to the Scavenger’s Dock, Flynn and Tony stood up in front of Duncan Roth. Hands shaking, Flynn retrieved the small bottle from his pouch and held it out together with his map.

“Our target, sir!”

The Rottweiler nodded and took the bottle, examining it closely. Flynn’s eyes fell on Leo Van Zandt, standing a few steps behind the man. The boy looked furious… miserable… defeated… He glared back at Flynn, pure hatred etched on his face. Flynn held his stare for a moment then looked away. The remaining teams were arriving now. Flynn spotted among them the Gallagher twins, who had somehow managed to put their raft back together again and made it to the finishing line.