The Sound of Many Waters
Sean Bloomfield
Language: English
Pages: 290
ISBN: 0615700950
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
The Sound of Many Waters follows two interwoven journeys separated by four centuries.
Dominic, a ruthless New World conquistador, is the proud captain of a gold-filled galleon sailing home to Spain. But when a hurricane sinks his ship off the coast of La Florida and the native Timucuans take him captive, Dominic must fight to survive in an unfamiliar world.
In the present day, Capt. Zane Fisher--a recovering addict--cannot seem to escape the shadow of his tragic past. When a peculiar client charters his boat for what seems like a routine fishing trip off the coast of Palm Beach, they find a mysterious floating package and Zane is forced to flee into Florida's dark underbelly.
Despite the four centuries that divide them, Dominic and Zane each discover the same extraordinary secret--one kept hidden in the wilds of Florida for eons--and their stories converge in an incredible way.
a groaning sound as it did. Fragments of rusty metal fell off—which gave him an idea. Miguel stopped and wiped the rust off of his head and then he took the knife out of his mouth. “Your father sold you out, you know. He won’t be able to blame anyone but himself for your death.” “You’re lying,” said Zane. “Deep down, you know I’m not.” Miguel bit down on the knife again and continued up. Zane’s eyes fell on one of the platform’s girders. It was rusted through on each end. He reached out as
bulky strand into a woven basket, until the basket overflowed and her face looked boyish. Without her locks to cloak her, she stood there completely and unashamedly naked, until one of the women brought a girdle of moss. She seemed loathe to wear it and only upon her mother’s urging did she finally wrap it around her waist. Mela’s mother, too, had sliced off her own hair, as did three other women whom Dominic guessed were Ona’s lesser wives. They gathered each of their baskets of hair and walked
the door of the gas station. The tantalizing smell of coffee and donuts enveloped him and he wished he would have spent the 50 cents on a snack instead of feeding it to a stupid payphone. The woman glanced back at him. He knew he probably smelled as bad as he looked. He walked up to the clerk behind the counter, a spiky-haired brute of a man adorned with piercings and elaborate tattoos. Zane flashed the best smile he could muster. “May I use your phone?” he asked, his tone higher and more
glanced at him sideways but otherwise kept her eyes locked on the altar. Francisco held out his arms as if to embrace the entire night and said, “This is why a man leaves his father and mother, and the two become one flesh.” Francisco came out from behind the altar and extended his hand to Dominic. “Take this,” he said, “and plant it together as a symbol of your union.” He dropped an acorn into Dominic’s hand and continued, “Blessed are those who wash their robes, so that they may have the right
Francisco, “but perhaps we can pray together for God’s will to be done.” Dominic pressed the sword in harder. “No will but mine is to be done.” Francisco made the sign of the cross over his body and whispered a prayer. “Quiet,” said Dominic, his eyes on fire. “I want answers to my questions. If you try to mislead me or speak in riddles or mention God even one time, I swear I will kill you.” Francisco smiled. “As you say, commander.” “Why are you smiling?” “Pardon me. My mind is not right.”