We, the Drowned - Carsten Jensen [332]
Suddenly a tugboat appeared in the south channel. We'd been so preoccupied by the burning steamers that we didn't even notice it at first. Marstal harbor's south channel is tricky to navigate if you're not familiar with the waters, but the captain seemed to be managing well until one of the British bombers flew low over the boat and fired its rockets. The explosion that followed could be heard all the way to the shore. The boat took a direct hit and went up in flames.
***
Gunnar Jakobsen, who'd been out there with his dinghy, would always say afterward that he'd never seen a more jumbled-up crew. One fellow was a Negro, another was a Chinaman, and another one was in a wheelchair: the others shoved him overboard before they jumped themselves. He had no legs and only one arm, but his life jacket kept him afloat. A woman with a child popped up in the water too. Half the world seemed to be floating around down there. Gunnar's surprise doubled when he pulled them all on board, and not only did both the Negro and Chinaman speak Danish, but the rest spoke like Marstallers. "Aren't you Gunnar Jakobsen?" one of them said.
Gunnar Jakobsen narrowed his eyes—not because he couldn't see the man properly, but because he needed time to think.
"Goddammit," he exclaimed. "You're Knud Erik Friis!" Then he recognized Helge and Vilhjelm. The man with no legs and one arm said nothing, nor did any of the others introduce him.
"Anton," Knud Erik Friis said suddenly, looking around desperately. "Where's Anton?"
"You mean Anton Hay? The Terror of Marstal?" Gunnar Jakobsen asked.
They looked around. "He's not here," Vilhjelm said.
He wasn't visible in the water either. The Odysseus was about to keel, and the flames soared high. No one could be on that ship and still be alive. They circled about the water for a while, calling out for Anton.
The bombers kept attacking the steamers as if they'd been ordered to use up their entire supply of bombs and rockets before the war ended. Just when the men in Gunnar Jakobsen's dinghy were about to give up and head for the harbor, the Odysseus took another direct hit. This time she must have been struck below the waterline, because she keeled instantly and began to sink. Gunnar Jakobsen switched off his motor, as if he felt he owed the tugboat a minute's silence as it died. A moment later the ship was gone. In the place where she'd been, they could see something floating on the water. Gunnar Jakobsen started the engine and headed for the spot. At first they couldn't make out what it was, but then they recognized the horribly charred remains of what had once been a human being. They saw its back and its head. Anton was naked and his hair had been burned off. His life jacket was gone, or if it was still on him, there was no telling it from the flesh of his back, which was as black and porous as charcoal.
Sophie covered Bluetooth's eyes with her hand. Knud Erik reached into the water to get the charred body into the dinghy. He didn't think about what he was doing; he simply couldn't leave it there. But when he hauled up the corpse the whole arm came off. Startled, he let go, and when the body hit the water again, what had once been Anton's flesh fell off his bones, which began sinking at once.
The engine was throbbing violently.
Gunnar Jakobsen wanted to get back ashore as quickly as possible. None of the survivors from the Odysseus objected. They sat in total silence, with the same blank expression he'd seen in the German children, which he hoped he'd never see on the faces of his own kids. He didn't know much more about the war than what he'd read in the newspapers. He'd heard the pounding in the south when the British dropped their bombs, and he'd seen flames on the horizon when