Capítulo 13: 0013 Ghost in the water
Unlike the bustling central harbor area, at night, the waterfront harbor area, where the Black Harbor warehouses were concentrated, was as quiet as the dock area.
The people in the harbor are either at large in the central harbor or hiding in their respective warehouses, easily unwilling to come out and walk around.
This made it no less convenient for Lorraine to act.
After learning the location of Old Barry's warehouse from Pete, and after a site visit and confirmation from Old Hansa, Lorraine and Hina agreed on a plan of action for what was to come against a simple sketch.
Shortly after nightfall, Pete's carriage drove slowly into the dock area, stopping on the side near the waterfront harbor area.
Once again, the duo soldiered on.
Lorraine stood alone on the beach, looked up at the harbor area with scattered lights two miles away, and leapt, into the sea.
...
The Linn Harbor area is the oldest and best preserved built-up area in all of Black Harbor.
Hundreds of years ago, when Black Harbor was still Cherbourg, this port area was a French military port.
In addition to deeper and wider mooring docks, the French built a dozen wide wet and dry docks along the coast. With later alterations, they are now the best conditioned watergate warehouses in Black Harbor.
Watergate warehouses are specialized warehouses that are generally divided into three connected front, center and back warehouses.
The front barn is the largest, with a wide water gate to the sea, and the warehouse is equipped with at least two unopened mooring lanes, a wet dock in its day.
The center barn is slightly narrower, but more lofty, and is centered on a former dry dock that merchants filled in the lower dam and converted into a pure warehouse.
Because of the high roof of the silo, there were two large rows of hanging houses along the silo wall, which were generally used as workers' dormitories.
The back barn, the smallest barn, was once the residence of shipwrights and seamen, but has been remodeled and is now the mansion of the Chamber's owner and core cadre.
Lorraine opened his eyes under the water, a transparent layer of compound lids covering his eyeballs, not visible at first glance, but tough and dense, protecting his eyes from the salty seawater and the floats of the prowl and allowing him to see underwater with ease.
All sorts of sounds come to the ear through the water, merchant ships breaking into the harbor a few miles away, gentle waves lapping against the shoreline, and people fishing on the beach, if at all, and talking to no one in particular ...
Each voice was so clearly recognizable that he could recognize the direction and know the approximate distance.
The whaler bloodline brought him more than just sonar.
His breaths became long, and being underwater, he could go for minutes without feeling cons stagnant.
He swims like a fish, and with a swing of his legs, his body slides out several meters.
With only a few changes of breath, he had already dived deep into the Linhai harbor area and silently approached the harbor's third water silo.
On the other side of the room, Haina stripped off her wide smock and clunky leather boots and tumbled up to the top of the barn like a spirit cat.
She raced forward on the night wind, leaping across empty streets and alleys.
Limbs touching the ground, her knees and elbows slightly bent, she landed smoothly and gently on top of the high, protruding center barn, meeting narrowly with a wandering feral cat.
"Meow?"
The wildcat cocked its head, seemingly curious as to why the kindred in front of it was particularly large and looked nothing like it.
Hina straightened up and looked at the cat, "Meow."
Lorraine slid like a swimming fish through the underwater fence blocking the ship and into the water gate.
This is a former barn, built mostly on the sea, with water depths ranging from shallow to deep, approaching eight meters at its deepest point.
At this depth, one's sight is no longer able to penetrate the barrier made of seawater, and the surface of the water and the bottom of the water become two relatively independent worlds.
Lorraine straightened up under the water and walked through the leisurely swimming fish to see eight rows of stakes lined up in long columns like guards, which were arranged in two columns with a distance of fourteen or fifteen meters between the units.
This suggests that there were three in-barn moorings in Old Barry's warehouse, and two of them were parking boats.
The middle berth is a small fishing boat no more than five meters long, while the left berth is a large boat with a draft of nearly four meters.
The keel curved forward and the hull was slightly fat, and Lorraine floated up close to the keel and found a piece of the planking near the center rudder that had been reinforced from the inside.
This was the reinforcement he had done with his own hands on the Attis Beauty before leaving Plymouth.
Lorraine closed her eyes and continued to float up against the center rudder, showing half her head at the transom, just barely showing her nose, and softly changing her breath.
He soon dived down again, and at the deepest point dived down to the pier trestle midway between the center left and center left, and lay flat on his back up in the middle of the pilings, less than thirty centimeters above the surface of the water.
There's someone in the barn.
There were two men scattered about the outer barn, one in the bow of the Atis Beauty, and the other in the stack furthest from him, both fishing and silent.
Two thick fishing lines dangled down silently, and the moon-white buoys floated on the surface of the water, swinging gently with the waves.
Lorraine thought for a moment, dived deeper, fished for a hook close by, gingerly wrapped it around the stake, circled it twice, and hooked it back on his leather boot.
That done, he began to approach the angler.
The released line ran out, the buoy sank hard, and the coil began to spin wildly.
The rattles tied to the coils jingled furiously, and the dozing angler awoke with a start, clutched his rod, and rose to reel in his line!
The sharp fishing hooks instantly tore through the boot leather that had hooked just a star of edge, and swam backwards through the water with a wobble, dug into the stakes with a duh, and couldn't be pulled half as far again.
The fishing pole curved into a half-moon!
The angler got excited and while tugging as hard as he could on the rod and coil, he shouted to his distant companion, "Al! Big fish! Big fish!"
"God! Pero, did you catch a shark?"
Al rushed over to help with a startled cry, and Pero looked triumphantly at his feet, when suddenly he saw a cloud of white, right in the middle of a pitch-black shadow.
"Huh? This is ..."
Wow!
A large hand reached out from underwater, clutched Pero's bare foot in an electric flash, and gave a powerful tug!
Pero fell down into the sea with a startled cry, his head hitting the edge of the stack with a thump, and he was out for a split second.
For just this instant, Lorraine hooked his neck and dragged him all the way down to the bottom, hooking the waist of his pants onto the tip of the Beauty's anchor.
Pero's bulging eyes frantically danced his arms and legs, getting slower and softer.
The sudden turn of events startled Al on the shore, and it seemed to him that Pero had been dragged down by the big fish.
The thump was probably an injury sustained when he lost his footing, and the red spots rising from the sea proved that the fall was quite hard.
But he couldn't see where Pero was!
The visibility of the sea water was no more than two or three meters, the tumbling bubbles were everywhere, and he couldn't find Pero's position even after exhausting his eyesight.
It's been over a minute!
Seeing that the bubbles on the surface of the water were getting fewer and fewer, Al gritted his teeth, tried to keep his eyes open, and leapt into the water.
Underwater is another world.
Stakes, the bottom of the boat, no sound from near or far.
He saw Pero stretching his limbs and opening his mouth wide, hanging and floating on the iron anchor of the great ship, and only very occasionally twitching and spitting a star of bubbles out of his mouth.
What the hell?
Al hurriedly slipped into the water to save him, his body diving under the water, when suddenly he felt someone grab his backside.
Psst!
The sharp stabbing sword penetrated his throat from behind, and only once it was revealed, the tip of the sword shrank back to ask like lightning.
Large globs of foul blood gushed out along the wound, mixing in long strings of bubbles that tumbled to the surface.
Al turned back around covering his neck in despair.
He saw a slender, white-shirted figure tilt its head and float gracefully upward, and in a moment it leaped out of the water and disappeared completely from his sight.
He exhaled the last of the air bubbles in his lungs.
Head ... There's a ghost in the water ... The sailor, back ...
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