Athora, page 25
Stelios picked up the phone and, with Carlo’s help, dialed a number. It did not get through. He tried again and again, different numbers each time, with the same result. “None of them work,” he said, disappointed.
Carlo picked up the phone and re-dialed all the numbers—still nothing. “Obviously something to do with the local networks,” he said. “The regional cell towers must be damaged.”
The hiss of static from Stelios’ two-way radio was followed by a man’s tinny voice. Stelios replied and the news was grim. Kimon’s’ body had been found. We fell silent. We could only hear snatches of the transmission through the static. To my shock, the description of the body sounded like that of the murder victims.
We sprang into action and all three hurried to the place indicated by the dispatch. A few minutes later, we had reached a clearing behind the Chora. It did not take long to locate the body. Kimon lay on the ground like a marionette whose strings had snapped.
Had we not known it was Kimon, we would not have recognized him. His clothes were torn and his body was a mass of cuts and bruises. His blood had soaked the ground around him a very dark brown.
Two coastguards stood a little distance away, casually smoking a cigarette, as if they were out on a stroll. The man holding the radio said he had stumbled across the body by chance. Stelios asked them to bring something to wrap around the body so they could carry it back.
“Aren’t you going to examine the body before you remove it?” Carlo asked authoritatively.
“You are not going to tell me how to do my job,” Stelios shouted annoyed.
I stared at them, startled by both Carlo’s unexpected interference and Stelios’ overreaction. “It’s not difficult to diagnose that Kimon has been flung about by the wind. If you look at how the ground has subsided under the body, it is clear he fell down from a great height,” I said, gesturing to the small hollow around the body.
Both men bent down to take a closer look. “The occipital bone has been shattered, corroborating this. There, at the back of his skull,” I pointed. “He was clearly snatched by the tornado…” and the Harpies, I thought.
The two coastguards returned and covered the body with a blanket. Stelios gave the chief an update and asked the coastguards to stay there until they decided how and where to carry it.
“His parents are dead and his two brothers live in Athens,” Stelios said. “We’ll have to notify them.” He motioned to us that we should leave. “I’ll meet you at the square. Can you be there in around half an hour, Fotini? I want to show you something.”
I was curious about what he could possibly show me, but I did not ask.
“I hope Kimon is the last victim,” I told Carlo on the way back.
“Let’s hope so. I’m not as used to death as you are. Maybe you should become a coroner. You’re very good.”
I looked at him trying to see if he was being sarcastic. Instead, I caught him giving me a look of sympathy and a somewhat shy smile.
“I don’t think so. I love my job. I’m just used to looking for small detail.” I felt myself blush at the unexpected compliment and felt annoyed with myself.
“And what does the detail tell you?” he asked giving me a sidelong look as we walked through a narrow, winding alley.
“That you’re awfully calm for someone who came to close a deal and got caught in a deadly storm,” I replied.
He laughed heartily. Encouraged by the response, I decided to seize the moment. “Can I make a call to the US on your phone?” I asked. He seemed taken aback. “Yeah, sure, the problem is local. Here.” He handed me the phone.
I did a quick calculation in my head and figured out that Professor Marcus must be fast asleep in California. I remembered his words when he’d given me his phone number in California: the supposed end of the world, without the first zero. It could not be anything other than 1012000.
I dialed the country codes and numbers and waited. When I heard his sleepy, croaky voice at the other end of the line, I apologized for waking him up at this hour and told him who was calling. He exclaimed in surprise and was glad to hear I was well, having heard everything that had happened. We spoke for around five minutes and he brought me up to date with what was happening elsewhere in the world as well as Greece. I handed the phone back to Carlo and explained who it was.
“What did he say?” he asked as we neared the square.
“That the storm is over, at least over the Aegean. Extreme weather phenomena are developing all over the world, though. Milder but equally unprecedented. The entire scientific community is shocked by what happened here. No one had predicted the strength of the storm.”
“At least it’s over now. Let’s hope life will soon return to normal.”
I could tell he was only half-listening to what I was saying. He was attentively scanning the streets ahead, as if looking for someone.
We came across Petros on our way to the square, accompanied by a small group of people. He asked us where Kimon’s body was. I pointed in the direction we’d come from and briefly explained, and they set off.
We had arrived at the square and I wanted to check-in on Sophie, then return home to help my parents.
“Are you staying at the shelter tonight?” I asked Carlo before we parted.
“No, I don’t think so. The generator is out of fuel and Sophie should find somewhere else to stay. I told her so when we were out walking this morning. I’ve found a room near the square, not too damaged by the storm. I’ll stay there until I can get my things from Pera Mera. I think I’ll head there now.”
He turned to go, then, as if suddenly remembering something, spun around and placed his hand on my shoulder. “You must convince Sophie to come with you. She shouldn’t stay alone at the shelter tonight.”
I was taken aback by his sudden concern for Sophie, but I was too tired to think straight. “I’ll try,” I promised.
He still stood there, looking at me. “I don’t know what will happen next, but I should tell you that I’m really glad to have met you,” he said, in a sweet tone I’d never heard him use before. The man had breathed life into me, helped out when I needed medication, and seemed concerned about an old woman’s safety. Maybe I was judging him toο harshly, being so suspicious all the time.
“It was nice to meet you too,” I replied. “Thank you for everything.”
He squeezed my shoulder in response and turned away, raising his hand in a silent goodbye.
“See you later,” I said and set off for the shelter. He walked off in the opposite direction.
I found Sophie lying down on a mattress in the hallway. She had lit two candles and was lying down in the small circle of light they cast. Other than that, the room was steeped in darkness.
She reassured me she did not need anything.
I sat down beside her, determined to convince her to accompany me. I told her about the theft of her records. Bizarrely, she did not seem in the least perturbed.
“I don’t know why someone would do it, but they must have their reasons,” she mumbled. She sat up and stretched out her injured leg. I noticed the bandage was bloodstained.
“Please come spend the night with us. You can stay at our house for as long as you need until you sort something out,” I begged her.
“I feel at home here, Fotini. I really don’t think I can walk as far as your house, not with my leg in this state.”
“Your leg is bleeding. Can I take a look?” I touched the bandage, but she gently took hold of my hand and stopped me.
“Thank you, but I can look after myself. It’s nothing serious, it bled a little from all the walking around. I’ll change the bandage and I’ll be fine.”
Still holding my hand, she turned it over so my palm faced up. She brought a candle over it and whispered words I could not make out. I did not dare ask. She raised her eyes toward me and softly whispered, “You are what your name says in Greek, Fotini—a light in the storm.”
I shook my head doubtfully. She gripped my hand, as if to press her point. “The sea is reflected in your eyes and you should let that light become your guide at some point.”
I smiled awkwardly, feeling her forceful personality permeate me. “How can I do that?” I said in a lighthearted manner, trying to lighten the intense mood.
“You’ll just have to trust yourself and everything will fall into place”
“I wish it were that simple,” I said and stood up, making one last effort to convince her to leave. “We can find a place for you nearby, since my house is too far away.”
“I like it here. I told you, it feels like home. I’ll be fine, don’t you worry about me. I’ll go for a little walk later, stretch my legs, but I’m sleeping here tonight.”
“I’ll bring you some food later, before I head home,” I offered.
“I have everything I need,” she said pointing to some fruit and bread on a nearby shelf. I saw that nothing would change her mind, so I returned to the square with a heavy heart.
As soon as Stelios saw me, he beckoned me to approach. “I asked the chief to find out if Carlo is who he says he is. He is waiting for Athens to reply,” he told me.
“Good move. Hey, where are you off to now?” I asked, as he turned sharply to walk away.
“Follow me,” he said impatiently. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
He ignored all my questions, but seemed as excited as a child at Christmas. He led me to the infirmary. A pile of broken flowerpots and the remains of the railing blocked the front door, so we clambered in through a low window. The young doctor, tending to a man lying on a stretcher, stepped forward to greet us. The patient raised his hand in greeting, too.
“Do you recognize him?” Stelios asked.
I approached the man and looked at him closely, trying to jog my memory. I had never met him before. “I don’t think so…”
“Remember the father who was swept away the day before yesterday trying to save his little girl?”
I froze when I realized that the man on the stretcher was the man we had all thought had drowned. “How did you survive?” I asked, beaming with joy.
He raised himself on one elbow. “The sea sucked me down and spat me out a bit farther down. Luckily, it’s not very deep over there and I managed to grab onto the rocks before the waves crashed on me once again.”
He showed me his bandaged hands. “I used all my strength to climb as high as I could and managed to shelter in a small cave just below the secret exit of the shelter. I stayed there until the storm was over and then walked to the town today, barefoot.”
That secret exit seemed to be anything but a secret after all!
“I’m so happy to see you,” I exclaimed. “You were very lucky. Is your daughter well? Did you manage to speak to her?”
“She’s fine,” Stelios replied. “I’ll radio Pera Mera now and he can talk to his family.”
At last, something to celebrate, I thought.
A few minutes later, eyes welling up and choking with emotion, the man was speaking to his family who had been mourning him for dead. When he heard his daughter’s voice, he started to sob and was so overwhelmed he could not speak. Our eyes welled up and we fell silent before the grandeur of human nature as embodied by this man, who never stopped fighting for survival against the elements.
“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again,” chanted Stelios in a high-pitched voice, trying to lighten the mood.
I grinned. Although I was aware of the extent of the disaster, seeing the man who had shown such self-sacrifice alive made me feel as if the whole world had been saved.
We stepped back outside to give him some privacy. When it was time to go, we returned to say goodbye.
“Get well soon,” I said. “I hope you’ll rejoin your family shortly.”
“I can’t wait! I’ve heard the worst is over now.”
“Yes, thankfully. Now we must be strong and rebuild our lives; especially those who stay behind on Athora. You have certainly shown us you will not be defeated. I’m amazed you survived for three days in the cave under the exit.”
He nodded. “Without any food or water; I strained my clothes to drink rainwater. The storm ended not a day too soon! As soon as it looked like it was over, I set off. Getting to the Chora wasn’t easy.”
“And to think that the day before yesterday I walked all the way to that exit. I’d never have thought you were just below me.”
“If I could have climbed, I would have come up to join you. I only saw the ropes hanging down today, as I was leaving.”
“Ropes?” I exclaimed, surprised. “I never saw any ropes!”
“Some tourists used to rock climb there a while back. Maybe they forgot them there,” he said, not giving it any further thought.
I could not let it go, though. Something was wrong with that picture. Rock climbers, I knew from personal experience, never left their ropes behind.
I kept my thoughts to myself as we returned to the square. Stelios asked me to wait a minute and stepped into the coffee shop where the soldiers had set up the communications center. A couple of minutes later he was back outside, holding a spare walkie-talkie. He gave it to me, asking me to keep it on me in case he needed to contact me, followed by a quick lesson in making calls and picking the right frequency so we could talk privately. I felt worn-out at the end. All I wanted to do was to go home.
* * *
Another exhausting day had ended. We had spent the evening tidying up whatever we could, then we ate a light supper and returned to our bedrooms, dragging our feet.
I kept the walkie-talkie on and could hear Stelios, the coastguards, and everyone else over at Pera Mera discussing the following day. The top priority would be to construct a temporary dock so that ships could come in and unload machinery and other supplies. Another ship had dropped anchor earlier in the evening and was still unloading supplies, using smaller boats to carry them to the island. Life on Athora was trying to regain its normal, pre-storm rhythm.
I stretched out on my bed and called Stelios, asking him to talk on the private frequency. He was over at the northern side of the island, which was more secluded, checking up on the residents who had opted to stay in their own homes. Luckily, other than a few light injuries, everyone was fine. He’d had to cover part of the distance on foot and would be spending the night there.
He told me he had checked in on Sophie before leaving and that she was well. She reassured him that she would be locking the door in the evening and asked him not to worry about her.
I wanted to tell him about the ropes hanging from the secret exit, but I did not dare. I, myself, thought I might be exaggerating and that I was being overly suspicious. I asked him discretely if he knew what Gabriel and Carlo had been up to, but he said he had not seen either of them since lunchtime. We both decided to get some rest. I told him to contact me if anything happened during the night and we agreed to speak again in the morning.
Stelios had been on call three days running and had barely had any sleep. I was sure part of the reason he had visited the northern side of the island so late in the day was so that he could spend the night there and get some much-deserved rest.
I closed my eyes, but images of everything that had happened during the week flickered before my eyes like a disjointed movie: Kimon, Father George, Azim, Gabriel, Carlo…Their faces appeared in quick succession, blending, distorting becoming one until they morphed into a single figure spreading wings and claws, a monster flying high above Athora, searching for another soul to snatch. The Harpies.
* * *
In his room, Carlo had just connected his phone to a laptop the owners had loaned him, telling him there was just enough life left in the battery. He entered the various passwords but the connection was slow and his irritation mounted. He tapped his foot nervously, sipped some water, and stared at the screen, absentmindedly whistling Leonard Cohen’s “Nevermind.”
A few minutes later, a map appeared, red dots blinking like buoys across the world. In Istanbul and Como, the marks were a steady, unwavering red dot. Two red dots over Athora were also still. A third dot, however, still blinked on the island.
He rubbed the stubble on his chin trying to think of a way to make the search go faster. Time was running out; the laptop’s battery would soon die out. He picked up his cell phone and dialed a number. At the same time, he typed a few numbers on the keyboard, placed the cell phone on the table beside it and waited for the file to appear. Would it show up before the screen turned black?
A photo began to appear on the screen, so blurry he could not make out whether it was a man or a woman. He cursed the slow connection once again. Teasingly, the photo cleared up just a little, almost pixel by pixel, testing his patience. He was staring at it, his nose inches from the screen, ready to pounce on the face that would appear.
He took a sharp breath. “Unbelievable! How can that be?” he muttered and leaned even closer to the screen. The image appeared sharp and clear for a few seconds, just enough for him to be certain, before the screen went black, taking the photo with it.
* * *
I woke up with a start, my heart thumping, and it took me a few seconds to realize I was no longer caught up in the nightmare. My clothes and sheets were drenched with sweat. I shook my head to chase away the dream—my mother trying to resist the ferocious wind, which lifted her up and flung her away.
I got up, trying to exhale the heavy, oppressive feeling in my chest. The dim light of dawn through the window was not enough to disperse the looming shadows. I fumbled for the lighter and lit the candle that stood on my bedside table.
As I changed my sheets, I wondered why the walkie-talkie had fallen silent when I had made certain to leave it on before I went to bed. Then I remembered I must have left it on the private frequency Stelios and I had used last. I picked it up and switched to the shared frequency, turning the volume down so as not to wake my parents up if anyone radioed.
