Page 5 of Waters that Drown Us
I force myself to lock my equipment in the stormcase I shoved in the closet before flopping down on the least comfortable mattress I’ve ever been on. I’ve slept on train floors and the beds of pickup trucks, but the moment I pulled up the review photos of this place, I bought bed bug spray and a mattress protector.
You can do this. Your family is everything to you. Your mother and aunts have carried an empire on their shoulders to make the world a better place. That is your legacy. Alisa is no one.
I’ve repeated a variation of that mantra to myself over and over the past six weeks I’ve been preparing for this mission. And for the most part, it’s soothed me. It’s normal to form attachments, especially at such a young age, when I was only beginning to fully understand my sexuality. So I kept tabs on Alisa over the years, including her in any research about Konstanin as an excuse to see her face on surveillance tapes. And sure, I may have been surprised by how affected I was by her engagement to one of the Andreeva brothers, and by how gutted I was at the news of her death.
But she was a figment of my fantasies. An ethereal girl I cast in resin and held to the light when I needed to remind myself I could feel things. That the emotions she stirred within me as she played her music hadn’t been drowned by the blood on my hands.
But she wasonlythat. An object. A tool. And that should make it even easier to do what I must. I need to figure out how to objectify her in a new way. Use her to prove something much more important than my own humanity.
The water stain on the popcorn ceiling stares back at me. Doesn’t feel like a great omen.
I slip my phone out of my pocket and hold it above my face, squinting at the screen as I read through Clara’s messages. As always, she’s made her lists. Objectives, timelines, requirements for updates. She knows something’s up, and she’s keeping a stricter watch over my work than she ever has before. Honestly, I’m surprised she agreed to let me come here in the first place; my argument wasn’t that strong. It could be Deniz. I wouldn’t say he’s made her soft—the opposite, in fact—but he’s certainly made her more curious.
Maybe she’s just as tired of all the death as I am.
My other phone buzzes in my pocket—the burner I purchased specifically to communicate with Alice—and it shakes me out of my contemplation. There’s no point in meditating on Clara’s thought process. It’s not like she’s ever going to share it with me anyway.
The burner’s screen flashes a familiar number, and I feel my pulse pick up a step.The adrenaline of the mission, I convince myself as I pick up.
“This is Emily,” I answer brightly, layering on the sunshine-y researcher persona I’ve donned for this mission.
“Um, hi. This is Alice. From the boat thing. That you needed.”
She sounds anxious, but not fearful. Like she doesn’t talk to people one-on-one much. Or maybe she doesn’t talk on the phone often. She wasn’t lying, she doesn't own a cell phone. I checked.
“Alice, great to hear from you,” I say, putting the phone on speaker as I roll onto my stomach. “I hope you have good news for me.”
She hesitates on the other end of the line, and there’s a brief moment where I wonder if I’ve miscalculated Jimmy’s need for untraceable income. The interest on his two boats is criminal, and he’s swimming in online sports betting debt. I assumed leaving a copy of the fake contract with my fake previous charter with a fake, yet laughably large, service fee would be all the convincing he needed.
“Yes, well, sort of,” she finally stumbles, and I hear her tap a keyboard, what seems like a nervous habit. “He can agree to three days per week, six hours per day, on the Class II. But the payment will have to be cash only, due to some…” Alice pauses again. “Banking issues.”
Banking issues. More likeI don’t want the government garnishing this for my vessel registration fees.
“That’s not a problem,” I promise lightly, thinking about the absolutely criminal stack of bills tucked into the stormcase. “The university provided me with a research stipend, I’m sure it’ll cover it.”
“Oh,” she replies simply, the surprise evident in her voice. “Okay, that’s good then. You can leave the payment with me at the ticket stand tomorrow, before you go out. He said he can spare the boat Tuesdays through Thursdays.”
“Works perfectly for me,” I say, thrilled that this worked out as smoothly as it did, and suspicious that this may be the last thing that goes so well this entire trip.
“Okay, well…”
“Did he say anything about a guide?” I cut her off before she can hang up on me. This was the part I had the least control over. I have contingency plans if Jimmy offers up Allen, but I’d rather not employ them. Allen seems like a good kid, despite being addicted to blue-raspberry-flavored THC vapes and his questionable internet search history. He takes care of his grandfather. He sends his little cousins knockoff Lego sets. I really don’t want to give him a gastrointestinal virus that will haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life.
“Right, yeah, I’ll be helping you.” Victory. The simple, sweet feelings of luck and circumstance being on your side.
“Wonderful,” I reply, not having to feign positivity in the slightest. “What time should I meet you?”
Alice and I make our arrangements, and she’s quick to get off the phone after we’ve confirmed the basics, but nothing can puncture the little bubble of triumph in my chest. The exhaustion that weighed on me when I first laid down has disappeared, and a familiar euphoria-driven adrenaline pumps through my veins, making my legs bounce.
Thisis who I am. Winning, achieving, learning—those things are what make me feel like this. A new personal record on my deadlift. Finding the corrupt code in a data file and watching the information flow perfectly. Getting a perfect culture swab on the first try. Seeing the fight leave your victim’s eyes when you’ve pushed them to their breaking point.
The sensation fills my veins like champagne, and I quickly strip and change into workout gear, needing to burn off the energy pumping through me. I double check the locks on the stormcase, confirm all Deniz’s surveillance cameras are still monitoring for any motion in this room, and slip my earbuds in.
The air is thick and chilly in my lungs, but I keep running. Out of the motel lot, down the main road, over hiking trails, off beaten paths. It takes hours of searing lungs, thumping music,and heavy breaths before the adrenaline subsides, and I’m clear-headed enough to plan what to do with my target tomorrow.
Chapter 3
Alice