Jane stared at the contraption Connor was readying.
“What is that thing?” she asked.
“A dredger,” Connor said.
“Oh,” I said. “So it dredges.”
Jane laughed, but Connor didn’t. He just shook his head at me.
“You know how to use that thing?” she asked.
“Hey, ask your boyfriend about it,” Connor said. “It’s his boat.”
“Technically it belongs to the Order. I just commandeered it. I didn’t say I knew how everything worked on it.”
Connor stripped off his trench coat and laid it carefully aside on the back bench of the port side. “Don’t worry, kid,” he said. “I’m Greek and Irish. I think I’m genetically predisposed to knowing how to operate all seafaring equipment. . . unless you want to volunteer to do a night dive out here instead?”
I looked down into the murkiness of the East River. The smell coming off it made my eyes water a little. “I’m not even sure I want to get splashed by that water, let alone immerse myself in it.”
“I didn’t think so,” he said and threw the winch lever next to him. Its motor whined into action, the lights in the cabin flickering. As the coiled cable began to unwind, the business end of the device lowered itself into the water.
“So, what are you hoping for here?” Jane asked.
“An abnormal number of boats have gone down in these parts,” I said. “Some blame it on the currents, some fires. . . but if Professor Redfield was working on a film about this location, I want to know what he discovered, because there’s a connection between him, the woman in green, and those ghosts up on the bridge. If I can get my hands on any pieces of the boats down there, maybe I can get some insight into at least just what the hell really happened to those people here.”
“There has to be something more to this location than the mundane,” Connor added. “All those ghosts wouldn’t still be here unless something terribly traumatizing had happened to them.”
“So we’re floating over a mass grave,” Jane said, looking a little sick. “Nice.” She gave me a forced smile. “You take me to the most romantic places.”
“It was this or the mutant alligator cleanup in the sewers that Shadower Division got stuck with,” I said.
“Good choice,” she said. Jane wrapped her arm around me while we waited on the winch to unwind, leaning her head on my shoulder.
Connor killed the switch after a few minutes of running it, and an eerie silence filled the air. “This is the creepiest fishing trip ever,” I said.
Jane giggled and Connor turned to her. “Why don’t you two go run the engine? We’ll trawl back and forth until we hook something, and then haul it up.”
Jane saluted him. “Aye, aye, Captain,” she said, her chipperness bordering on sickeningly sweet, before she skipped off to the cabin.
I left Connor fussing with the winch and headed to the cabin after her. I hit the engine and the boat chugged to life. I eased it up to speed, not wanting to tax the poor boat too much, not with the way the budget stacked up against us. I feared that if anything broke or needed repairs, it might have to come out of my own pocket at this point.
I worked the boat back and forth across the area underneath the bridge, the steady sound of the engine and roll of the boat luring me into a very sleepy state. Only when the boat jerked to a halt and the two of us fell to the floor of the cabin did I snap to.
I scrabbled to get back on my feet, but it was difficult to do with my flailing girlfriend trying to do the same. The boat tossing back and forth only added to the chaos in the wheelhouse.
“Kill the engine, kid!” Connor shouted from somewhere at the back of the boat.
I finally managed to get to my feet, reaching for the support of the cabin wall, but the boat lurched once more, throwing me against the opposite wall, pressing me up against the back window.
Through it I watched as Connor wrapped himself around the cable using his whole body, but his weight wasn’t enough to shake the line free. It pulled against the power of the boat, the back of it sinking down from the calamitous physics of it all. I pressed away from the window, but until the boat reversed pitch, I wouldn’t be able to move.
“Jane!” I shouted, but she was already working on stopping the boat. She was down on the floor once again, but she didn’t need to stand to use her powers. She slammed her hand against the base of the control console and whispered her strange electronic voice to it, her technomancy killing the whining engine. The boat fell silent and settled, allowing Jane and me to get to our feet. We walked out onto the back of the boat where Connor held on to the nowslack cable.
“Well, we found something,” he said.
Jane walked over and flicked at the loose cable in his hand, watching it wobble. “Did we lose it?” she asked.
Connor tugged on the cable, pulling against the slack. The line went taut in his hand. “No, I think we still got it,” he said. “ I’m pretty sure we freed it up. Whatever it is.”
Connor threw the lever back on the winch, but nothing happened. The power was still off. Connor looked over to Jane. “If you wouldn’t mind . . .”
“Sorry,” Jane said, and touched her hand to the mechanism. Sparks flew from where the flesh of her fingers pressed against it. At her techno-whisper, the winch creaked to life once more, this time at a slow, labored crawl. No one wanted a repeat of what had just happened with almost capsizing the boat.
Connor tested the line. It was coiling up onto the reel, tension still on it.
“Whatever it is,” he said, “it’s heavy.”
I looked at him, hopeful. “You think we’re pulling up a whole boat?”
“Doubtful, kid,” he said. “It’s probably just caked in weeds and river bottom. . . maybe some old, dead gangsters in cement shoes, even. All of that is making the going tough.”
I watched the surface of the water in fascination, waiting for our catch to unveil itself. Pockets of air rose to the surface and bubbles filled the water, increasing until the water was white with foam all along the back of the boat.
Moments later, a solid rectangular shape broke the surface, roughly the size of a man.
“A door,” I said, not all that enthused with our find.
“Hey, a door is a part of a boat,” Connor said.
I shrugged. “Just not a particularly exciting part.”
Connor looked at me and shook his head. “At least it’s something you can hopefully get a read on. Help me haul it in.”
The two of us leaned over and began wrestling with the cable as we struggled to get a grip on the bobbing door. It was harder than I thought with the boat rising up and down as well. The door, as Connor had suggested, was covered with enough river bottom slime that I couldn’t get a good grip on it. I was about to start swearing when Jane spoke up.
“Hey, guys. . .” she said.
“Hold on,” I said, fighting for my grip on the cable itself as I leaned out over the water. “Trying not to go swimming here.”
“I’ve got some swimmers for you,” she said. “We’ve got company on the railings.”
The mention of company got our interest, and the two of us forgot about the cable and door as I pulled myself back onto the boat and turned. At first I didn’t notice anything, but then I saw them. Rotting, waterlogged fingers were grabbing for purchase along the edge of the boat in several spots on both sides.
Connor noticed them as well. “What the hell. . . ?” he said, and ran over to the right side of the ship.
I joined him, stopping short of the railing. I craned my neck out a little farther, looking over the side. The ancient, bloated remains of a human were recognizable as one of them pulled himself out of the river, the water soaked into it like a sponge instead of rolling off it.
“The door. . .” Connor started, but couldn’t finish as he stepped back and got into a fists-raised fighting stance.
“When God closes a window, he opens up a door,” I said, pulling my bat from its holster and hitting the button to extend it, “a door from the bottom of the river that releases aqua-zombies, apparently.”