State of Nature: Book Three of The Park Service Trilogy

State of Nature

Book Three of The Park Service Trilogy

By Ryan Winfield

For Great Big Little Panther

Because even the best of boys must someday grow up

My father said there’s no revenge as sweet as forgiveness.

Even so, part of me would like to watch Hannah die for what she did. But in the end, my father’s wisdom wins.

Jimmy’s not feeling as forgiving, however, and if we didn’t need the professor to pilot the submarine, I’m afraid he might have tossed him overboard days ago.

Our time on the Isle of Man seems like a dream already; or perhaps a waking nightmare. We talk little and eat even less. The professor’s mouth is a swollen mess, most of his teeth having been knocked loose by Jimmy’s heel, and despite Jimmy’s suggestion to let him starve, I heat him algae broth on the stove and watch him wince with pain as he sips it. He’s fallen into one of his moods now, wavering between mumbling obscure obscenities and staring cross-eyed at the controls. But he seems to be guiding us in the right direction as we retrace our journey, re-crossing the Panama Canal, then turning north to follow the coastline toward the Foundation.

I’d say toward home, but it feels like anything but.

I keep having conversations with Hannah in my head, rehearsing the things I want to say to her and trying to guess her responses. It’s crazy-making, really, but the silence of the submarine is deafening, and I can’t help myself. I know she’ll rationalize having faked giving Jimmy the longevity serum by saying that she wanted to reproduce it in her lab and then give it to him. But I can’t imagine how she’ll explain sending us out blind and then slaughtering all those people with the antimatter bomb. I suppose it doesn’t matter what she says anyway, because when we return, she’s done—Jimmy and I are in charge now. She’s going to extract that encryption key from the DNA in Finn’s severed hand, and we’re going to take control of the drones and free my people from Holocene II.

No compromises, no discussion.

End of story.

And Jimmy’s getting that serum, too.

A hand on my shoulder snaps me away from my thoughts. It’s Jimmy come to relieve me from guarding the professor.

“Did you get any rest?” I ask.

“A little,” he says, taking the knife from my hand.

“One more sleep and we should be back.”

“Good,” he says, sitting down. “It’ll be nice when we ain’t gotta stare at the back of this creep’s ugly head all the time.”

The professor sighs but doesn’t respond.

I head for the bunkroom and strip out of my clothes and take a hot shower. The Park Service crest that Finn carved into my chest is healing, but I know there will be scars beneath the scabs. I think about how close I came to dying, and how much I regretted having never told Jimmy what he really means to me. But now that the crisis is over, the timing doesn’t seem right. Plus, Jimmy’s understandably depressed about losing Junior and Bree. Junior meant a lot to both of us, but Jimmy had a special bond with him. And with Bree too.

After my shower, I wash Finn’s pants and shirt that I’ve been wearing since we left. Then I wrap a towel around my waist and carry the wet clothes with me out onto the submarine deck to dry them. I wrap them around the open hatch handle and let them flap in the breeze while I sit with my back against the sail and watch the scenery slide by. It’s full on winter now, and the air has a bite to it, but the cold feels good against my naked skin. Something about the cold air makes everything seem clear and close, and I can see the rocky cliffs and white bursts of spray from waves crashing against the distant shore. Behind that, hills of green and gold, and even farther, snow-covered mountains. It’s wild and wonderful and somehow more majestic without any people to spoil the view. I wonder what it will look like in another thousand years, after we free the people of Holocene II. I hope we’ve learned our lesson.

The cold finally raises bird bumps on my skin and starts me shivering, so I stand and grab my clothes to head in. I freeze when I see the ship—tall and gray, a warship just like the one that slaughtered Jimmy’s family in the cove—so close behind us that it’s throwing a shadow onto the submarine deck. I dive inside and seal the hatch, rushing into the control room with my towel still tied around my waist.

“Take us down!”

“Why should I?” the professor mumbles.

“Jimmy, grab him, will you?”

Jimmy gladly grabs the professor, jerks him from the pilot chair, and forces him against the wall, holding his knife blade just inches from the professor’s throat. I take the controls and flood the ballasts, dropping us beneath the waves. Then I steer us hard to port, planning to come around in a long arc behind the warship.

“How do I launch a torpedo?”

“We’re not launching anything,” the professor replies.

“Jimmy, if he doesn’t answer my questions, cut him.”

“I’ll be more’n happy to,” Jimmy says.

“Now, where are the torpedo switches?”

“The red button there on your left,” the professor says.

I hit the button and an LCD screen slides up with an aerial rendering of the submarine and its surroundings. The ship is outlined on our rear starboard side, its shape unmistakable.

“What’s that?” Jimmy asks.

“A drone warship.”

“Like the one that killed my family?”

“Just like that one.”

“What are you planning to do?” the professor asks.

“Sink it.”

“But why? It’s no threat to us as long as you’re not up top. It’s programmed to hunt humans, you fool, not submarines.”

“Well, it’s about to see what’s it’s like to be hunted itself,” I say. “How do I launch a torpedo?”

The professor doesn’t answer.

“Jimmy ...”

Jimmy pushes his knife against the professor’s throat, the blade sinking into his saggy, whiskered flesh.

“Fine, fine. Just touch on the target.” Then he adds under his breath to Jimmy, “Ficklefrick! Easy with the knife.”

I tap my finger on the outline of the ship, pulling up a full screen rendering.

“Tap it again,” he says.

Red crosshairs show up on the midpoint of its lower hull.

“What now?”

“Hit the blue button to flood the tube. When it’s flooded the red button will illuminate and you can press it to fire.”

“But I want to see it on the screen.”

“You want to see it sink?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“You’re so sentimental. Press the periscope switch.”

The periscope rises, and the camera zeros in on the ship, showing the live video image on the main screen. I notice Jimmy shudder slightly at the sight.

“You come and do it, Jimmy.”

When Jimmy releases the professor, the old man sinks to the floor and sits staring at us with a defeated look on his bruised face. Jimmy steps over and peers at the ship on the screen, its side coming more into view every second as we turn. He rests his palm on the fire switch. His eyes narrow, and I’m reminded of his laser-like focus when I watched him poised with a harpoon and ready to leap onto the back of that whale. That was the day that this ship, or at least some other ship just like it, showed up and gunned his family down.

Jimmy slaps the switch.

For several seconds nothing happens.

We watch and wait.

Then there’s a burst of white water, and the ship buckles in the center and jumps beneath a fiery explosion. Just as it’s dropping again, a secondary explosion tears it fully in two and the ship slams down, the twisted and torn halves turning in on themselves and sinking in a boil of white water. Jimmy stands entranced, a look of satisfaction on his face, as the last of the ship’s upturned bow descends beneath the waves and the water closes over it and settles, as if the ship had never even been there at all. I grab him and hug him, watching over his shoulder as the professor scowls at us from the floor. Despite what my dad said, revenge feels good. Even if it is just against a brainless drone carrying out the commands of evil humans.

The next morning we arrive at the tunnel that leads to the locks and the Foundation. We make the professor drop anchor and then, using wire from the engine room, we bind his hands and feet and leave him lying stretched out on a bunk while we climb out onto the submarine deck to make a plan in private. We’re anchored several hundred meters from the entrance, the tunnel beyond cast in pitch black shadow, and I don’t think either of us is ready to leave behind the open air view for the claustrophobic darkness that waits beyond.

“You promise you won’t hurt Hannah?” I ask.

“I’m leavin’ her to you,” Jimmy says. “All I wanna do is get this over with so’s we can stop the rest of them damn drones and get back above ground.”

“What about the professor?”

“I dun’ care nothin’ ’bout him either.”

“Well, let’s leave him tied up anyway, just in case. Besides, I’m sure he could use some rest.”

We turn and look back at the shimmering ocean meeting blue, cloudless skies. It’s a hard view to part with. I look at Jimmy standing next to me, tall and proud, his hair tousled in the breeze, his jaw set and his eyes focused on some distant hope only he can see. Perhaps a wish to someday be reunited with his family. Perhaps just a wish to someday live free. I hope he gets it—whatever it is he desires—and I hope maybe, just maybe, his wish somehow includes me.

Jimmy stays on deck to drink in the last of the view while I return to the control room to start our ascent. From the pilot chair, I can see the pool of sunlight from the open hatch slowly disappear from the passageway floor as we pass beneath the overhang and enter the tunnel. I set our speed for ten knots and recline in the seat, preparing for the sixteen hour trip.

I guess I should spend the time planning how I want to confront Hannah with her betrayal. And revenge or not, maybe what her punishment should be.

I can hardly keep my eyes open, but I don’t dare sleep.

Eventually, Jimmy relieves me from the controls.

I skip the bunkroom where the professor lies bound, going out instead to sit on the deck. The submarine’s shadow is cast by green light onto the tunnel walls, where it passes like some half-submerged monster from the depths returning to its cave. The journey up the escalator locks is seamless, with one stretch of water rising to meet the next, and I rest my head on the cool metal deck and watch the green light dapple the distant cavern ceiling. It reminds me of my days spent down in Holocene II, looking up at our own sparkling ceiling and imagining a world of adventure waiting above. I sure found it. I just never could have imagined it being so beautiful and cruel at the same time.