CL Hart -From A Distance (16 page)

There was no interaction with the pilots during the flight that took them to La Paz. Cobra stared out the window at the water far below. The ocean was dark, but the moonlight illuminated the tips of the rolling waves. Reaching into his vest pocket, he pulled out his Blackberry and began punching away at the buttons until he received the information he had been waiting for. She was still out in the Gulf somewhere. The ferry had not yet reached port and would probably be a few hours longer before arriving. He had time.

Unbuckling his seatbelt, Cobra leaned forward and unzipped his large black duffle bag. Though he had packed it only a few hours earlier, his training led him to check and recheck that he had everything he might need. Running his large hand through his assorted equipment, he satisfied himself that he was ready. He zipped the bag and kicked it off to the side. Leaning back in his seat, he stretched out his long legs and relaxed. If he was lucky, he could catch a few winks before they landed.

Cori felt the panic churning in her stomach, "What do you mean, not alone?" she said, spitting out the salt water that splashed into her mouth when she spoke. The dark water washed over her as she bobbed, making it impossible to see anything. Searching the waters around her for the fin that could mean death, she asked fearfully, "Did you see a shark?"

"Not a shark," Kenzie said as Cori turned to face her. "A boat." She nodded her head in the direction of Cori's left shoulder.

Spinning around, Cori craned her neck above the water. There was a break in the waves and she saw the black silhouette of a fishing boat against the moonlit sky. Cori was certain she had never seen anything so beautiful. "Can we make it?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the boat in the distance, fearing that if she looked away she would never see it again.

"It's further than you think."

Cori heard the doubt in Kenzie's normally confident voice. "But can we make it?"

Kenzie gave her a gentle push in the direction of the boat, "If we don't," she took a breath to spit out a mouthful of seawater, "we'll die trying."

A feeling of dread shivered down Cori's back. "We can't swim too fast or we'll attract the sharks, not to mention you might bleed to death."

"If we don't get to that boat before they fire up their motors, it won't matter."

That lone realization sent another shiver down Cori's spine, but this one went all the way to her toes. The two set out in the direction of the fishing boat in silent determination, both knowing failure was not an option.

Manny Javier was a third generation fisherman. He considered himself an honest man, but recent times had not been good to him and so he had taken to doing some illegal night fishing. It paid a lot better because he could keep whatever he caught with no concerns of limits or species. All he had to do was to keep an eye out for other boats. Thankfully, there were typically not many, just the slow-moving ferries that could easily be seen from a great distance. When he or his crew spotted another boat, they shut down their motors, turned off the lights, and waited for the vessel to pass. In the meantime, everyone kept their eyes on the water. With no light and no motor, there was always a chance that something could go wrong.

"The ferry is almost out of sight. Get ready to fire her up, Al," Manny hollered down to his small crew of relatives.

"Aye, aye, boss man," Al called to his older brother. With a wave of his hand, he headed up to the wheelhouse to start the massive motor.

Young Ramon began his descent from the back arm of the boat, where the roller fed out the fishing line. The lights of the boat suddenly flooded the deck and the surrounding waters, and something white caught his eye in the ocean, just beyond the light. "There's something in the water," he yelled over the grinding motor, pointing toward the starboard bow. "I think...I think it's a body!"

Manny did not hear exactly what his cousin said, but he could see Ramon's distress and the direction in which he was looking. Moving swiftly to the bow of the boat, Manny scanned the dark ocean before laying his hand on the switch for the large searchlight anchored to the side of the wheelhouse. He was hesitant to turn on the light for fear the bright beam would be seen by other boats, but as far as he could see, they were alone. Moreover, if someone was in the water, being seen was a risk he was willing to take.

"There," Ramon said as he scurried up to the railing to stand next to his uncle. "I think it's a body." He pointed to where he had seen it, keeping his eyes glued to the area for fear of losing his bearings.

Manny swept the light over the black seas. "It is a body," he said suddenly. "All stop! All stop!" he yelled toward the wheelhouse as he held the searchlight on the body. As an arm rose from the dark depths, he widened the beam, fixing the light on the bobbing body in the water. "Ramon, grab some blankets from down below. Francisco, pull out the life preserver. Al, shut down the motor." Everyone scurried to follow their captain's orders, as he focused the light on the waving arm.

As the big diesel engine began to wind down, Manny leaned over the railing to get a better view. He was surprised to see it was a woman, and she was not alone. He squinted into the night.
"Idios mio!
It's two women!" he said in surprise. "But where did they come from?" He scanned the area but saw no sign of any wreckage. All he saw was a haze of smoke left behind by the long departed
Pichilingue. Had they fallen off the ferry during the fire?

The fishing boat drifted toward the two women in the water. Within minutes, Manny and his crew of four had them safely on board. The seasoned captain looked the two women over as he draped a blanket around each of them. They had both suffered scrapes and scratches, most of which appeared to be new, but they also had injuries to their faces that were older. With a suspicious eye, he looked at the row of stitches on Kenzie's cheek.

He crouched down in front of them. "How did you two end up floating in the ocean in the middle of the night? Did it have anything to do with that fire aboard the ferry?" The blonde's teeth were chattering and she hunkered down further into her blanket. Silently, she shifted her gaze to her companion. "Well, how about it? You don't look like you've been out on a cruise."

Manny's eyes traveled down Kenzie's torn shirt and the fresh blood staining it. "And what do we have here?" He reached forward to pull aside her blanket for a better view. He wasn't expecting to see Kenzie's 9mm pistol pointing directly at him.

"Suppose you don't ask us any more questions and we won't ask you why you're out here fishing in the dark." Kenzie's voice was low, her words slow and deliberate.

Manny looked from the gun to the hardened eyes of the woman holding it. The two stared at each other in silence as everyone else on board watched and waited.

Cori slowly reached over and placed a hand on the barrel of the gun, pushing the weapon down and away from their interrogator. "He just saved our lives. How about a truce?" Everyone waited, unsure of what to do. "Please," she whispered.

It was a moment longer before the gun was lowered. Kenzie kept her eyes on Manny as she tried to return it to her waistband. The movement caused a slight grimace of pain and Cori saw it. She gently touched Kenzie's forearm. The tender touch was enough to make Kenzie take her eyes off the apparent captain as she turned to look at Cori. No one had ever touched her like that before, not mentally or physically.

"She's injured," Cori said without taking her eyes off Kenzie.

The captain looked from one woman to the other. He didn't like having women on his boat, especially women with a gun. He was unsure of what he should do, and that was something he wasn't used to.

Cori turned to face him. "Can you help us? My friend is hurt. She's bleeding."

"Let's get you down below." Manny gestured toward the door below the wheelhouse.

The women helped each other to their feet. On unsteady legs, they followed the captain toward the door that led to the living quarters below.

"Fire up the diesels," Manny said to his brother before he stepped through the door. "Let's get out of here. Al, take the wheel and head due north."

Kenzie scanned their surroundings as they cautiously made their way down the steep steps. Alert and observant she was, but her mind was on something Cori had said.
Friend; she called me her friend.
The smell of fish, diesel, and hardworking bodies was overwhelming. The captain obviously took a lot of pride in his boat, but it was a working fishing trawler and it smelled like it. Taking one step at a time, Kenzie kept her right arm pinned against her side, using only her left to keep her balance. She was doing her best to ignore the pain that was ripping through her right ribcage and shoulder. At the bottom of the stairs, Kenzie found herself standing next to Cori and the captain in the middle of the galley.

The captain sat down on the bench that wrapped around the galley table. "Let's see what we got here." Manny motioned the taller woman over to where he sat. Kenzie dropped her blanket, exposing the tattered, bloodstained shirt. "Holy Patron Saint of Travel, you're lucky you weren't shark bait." Without hesitating, he pushed back the shredded material of Kenzie's shirt with his finger and peered at the torn flesh. "Pretty nasty wound you got there. I'm not going to ask how you got it. You were lucky the tides were with you tonight. If they had been going out, well..." He let go of her shirt and sized up the two fortunate women. Whatever they were up to was not his concern, but not many law-abiding people were plucked from the ocean in the middle of the night. "The name is Manny, and we can leave it at that."

Cori laid her blanket on the bench on the other side of the table. "I'm Cori, and the silent shark bait here is..."

"Kenzie." Her voice was just above a murmur as she held out her left hand to the man who had saved them. "Thanks for the lift. I think we have an understanding."

Manny looked at the offered hand and hesitated for a moment. "Those are pretty mangled up, too," he said, noting the cuts and scrapes on both of her hands. He glanced at Cori's hands, but they were nowhere near as injured as Kenzie's.

Kenzie reviewed the damage her hands had sustained while trying to escape the cattle trailer and was surprised she hadn't felt them earlier. At the moment, they were the least of her concerns. She offered her hand again and the captain took it. "This your boat?"

"Si."
Manny was impressed. The woman with the dark curls was not a big woman but even with her injuries, her handshake was solid. It told him a lot, especially when he saw her grimace.

"Okay, enough of this. Excuse me," Cori said as she moved in front of Kenzie, blocking the captain's view. "I need to take a look at your side and, apparently, your hands. Just how bad is it?" Lifting the bottom of Kenzie's shirt, Cori grabbed both edges of the material and tore it apart. The t-shirt ripped all the way up the side.

Kenzie frowned at the action. "I could have just taken it off. It's not like I have another one."

"I can't imagine how it would have hurt to get out of that shirt," Cori said as she examined the area. Blood was again starting to ooze from the large gash, and there were several smaller scrapes made by the splintered wood. Squinting in the dim light, Cori could see there were also slivers in the skin covering her ribcage.

"What do you have for medical supplies?" Cori directed her question to Manny, not taking her eyes off Kenzie's side. "I'm gonna need something sharp, like a needle, something I can use for stitches, and some kind of dressing." Manny mumbled something and left in search of the requested materials. "And alcohol," she yelled after him.

"For cleaning or drinking?" his voice bellowed from beyond the small galley.

"Both."

Kenzie liked the feel of the gentle hands that were moving along her side. It felt good, and it gave her a chance to study Cori's face. Her eyes were so focused, her brow fixed in a stern look of concentration as she examined the injuries. Kenzie's eyes kept going back to the dark bruises she had left on Cori's face, twisting the guilt in her stomach.

The boat swayed heavily in the waves and Cori grasped Kenzie's waist for support. Kenzie clasped Cori's shoulder with one hand and reached out for the table with the other. A hiss escaped her clenched teeth as pain speared through her shoulder.