Authors: Mary Mead
I scooted along on my knees, being as quiet as I could, the bits of gravel biting into my knees as I moved first one then the other. I felt the edge of the boat begin to curve and knew I was close to the bow. The point of the bow held the upturned boat off the ground. If I could lift it a little, I could crawl beneath it and wait for dawn.
I slid my fingers along the edge until I could feel a space between the edge and the ground. I tried to lift it, get an idea how heavy it was. An aluminum boat can’t be that heavy, can it? Well, yes it can. Trying to lift it meant getting up on my knees, into a kneeling position. I didn’t have enough arm strength to lift the boat. I needed to get to my feet, use my legs. And then what? There was no way I was going to be able to stand, lift the boat and slide under it at the same time.
I felt further, trying to see if there was enough clearance for me to slide under without lifting it. No go. Hard to judge in the dark but it felt like eight inches or so, not enough for my fanny to clear.
Frustrated, I crossed my ankles and sat down, giving my knees a break. If I could find a block of some kind maybe I could lift the boat, slide the block under the edge to hold it up and then get under it. Maybe I could just call MacGyver. Or give Superman a buzz. I dropped my elbows to rest on my spread knees and let my shoulders slump and my head hang loose to relieve some of the tension.
What was happening? My mind spun from did I hear something to where’s Patrick to was that a noise and back to what is going on. Why am I hiding? More confusing, why was I running from Burke?
Burke, my pal, my buddy, always the flirt, always affectionate. Did he really want more? Maybe he was sincere. Maybe he was involved with Paul in something else, something beyond high school friends. I watch TV. I’m neither stupid nor blind. I saw those cartons they had loaded in the truck and I recognized them, at least a couple of them. Burke is helping Paul or vice versa to move cartons marked exactly like the cartons of drugs.
Maybe the bad guys didn’t get the missing cartons off the property. Maybe they got moved into one of Mrs. Murphy’s units. One like Building Three, with the huge combined space where walls had never been built. With all of her stuff a few more cartons or boxes would never be noticed. She couldn’t possible remember every one of them and what was in it.
I lifted my head, arched my back and stretched those muscles, cooling from sitting cross legged so long.
Arms grabbed me, a hand gripped my face, covering my mouth with a cupped palm. I tried to bite and couldn’t reach the palm. I yanked my head forward trying to break loose, my hands trapped by the arm locked around me.
“It’s Patrick,” a sigh whispered past my ear. “Be still.”
I wilted and took in a deep breath. The fingers pressed around my mouth relaxed and let go. My heart hammered so hard in my chest I was afraid the adrenaline surging through my system was audible.
The hand that had been covering my mouth smoothed across my forehead and down my cheek. I felt a warm breath on my face, near my ear.
“You okay?” He breathed against my ear.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. He had scared the water out of me.
“I’ll lift, you slide under. Stay there. Help on the way.”
I thought for a second. If I was under the boat I might be able to lift it using my back, pushing up against one of the bench seats. Could I lift it high enough for him to get under? Was there room for both of us beneath the boat? Would pigs fly out my butt? I shook my head and heard his soft sigh.
Leaning my head back into his chest I felt for his head and pulled it down where I could turn my head and be close to his ear. “No room,” I whispered, trying to keep my whisper as soft as his.
His arms left me. Taking my right hand he placed it on the edge of the boat, folding my fingers under it with his. “Under,” he breathed, nudging my back with his chest. I felt him get to his feet, felt his hand move away from mine. I rolled to my knees, the gravel biting into them again. There was a small sound, a slight hiss in the gravel and the boat began to rise. I felt it with the hand still holding the edge. I got my feet under me and used my legs to lift me inside the circle of Patrick’s arms, my back sliding along his body as I stood.
“Under,” he whispered.
I shook my head. “You, too.”
“Go.”
“Well ain’t that sweet,” Paul said aloud. Bright light lit the scene around us. I flinched from the light and closed my eyes, seeing only a red film. “What’cha doing, guys? Trying to steal a boat?”
Patrick dropped his arms, and the boat, at the same time.
My dad always told me the best defense is a good offense. “What are you doing, Paul? You’ve been chasing us around all night. What’s the game?”
“What’s your game, Marlena? You playing a little spy versus spy?”
I leaned back into Patrick. “Trying to get a little action with my man,” I said. “You seem bound and determined to mess that up. Want to tell me why?”
Paul snorted and lowered the light a little, getting it out of my face. “Your man?” He laughed. “Honey, you’re not even a notch in his belt. Patty likes his little blond fluffs. You know? Those tight bodied little surfer girls with all the bleached blonde hair.”
“I’m trying to change that,” I said, turning toward him. He was only a shape behind the light, hiding in the dark. “He gets a taste of a hot blooded Latina, he’ll change his mind. I’m like chili peppers. Cool to the touch, too hot to handle.”
Paul chuckled. “I bet you are, Marlena. I know I wanted a taste. You shut me down, remember? Got your little law man sweetie. You know that, Patty? You know she sleeps with that cop? She must have a thing for cops. Sleeps with Burke, too. Guess I needed a badge to bed her.” He laughed again. “Maybe I can borrow Burke’s.”
I felt Patrick edging back, away from me, so I shuffled forward a little, turning more towards Paul and further from Patrick. If we could get enough space between us we’d have a chance to jump Paul.
“It’s not the badge, Paul. It’s the man. Best Burke ever got was a good night kiss. You know, like your first date? Like you say good night to your mother? You kiss your mama, Paulie,” I stressed his name, the way his mother always said it. “I’ve seen you. That’s about what it’s like to kiss Burke. No fire. Might was well kiss an egg. Lot more responsive.”
Paul laughed again. “I thought he was lying. He never was good with the women. They were all mine. One place he never could beat me was with the women. I proved that. A lot.”
“I don’t know,” I said and eased a few more inches left. “You
gringos
not so good in the sheets. I like me a man, you know?
Mucho hombre.”
Patrick lunged at Paul and Paul shot him.
There was a flash of yellow, a pop and Patrick fell through the beam of light, slamming into the ground. He never made a sound.
“Pat!” I squatted beside him.
“Get up, Marlena. NOW!”
I stood, my anger rising with me. “You are bad,” I said, curling my lips. “I like that, Paulie. You are a man.” I eased a little closer to him, smiling more, dropping my eyelids to what I hoped was a sexy look.
“Muy bueno, hombre
.” I was using up what little Spanish I had.
I knew Paul spoke Spanish, I had heard him on his cell phone.
I took another step closer and licked my bottom lip. “
Caliente
,” I murmured, hoping that meant hot and not just a hot sauce. I lifted my right hand and slowly, carefully reached toward his face. “You like hot sauce, Paulie?”
His eyes darted from my face to my hand. This close I could see the glint of the gun in his right hand, the light in his left.
I licked my lips again, watched his eyes drop and brought up my knee as hard and fast as I could, right in the jewels. I felt my knee connect with soft tissue and grabbed for the gun. Paul mewed like a kitten and dropped, his hands going for his crotch, easily giving me the gun and dropping his flashlight. I stepped back and aimed the gun at him.
“Nice move, Marlie. Damn, girl, that was hot. Now drop it.”
Burke.
His light lit me up.
“Drop it, babe, or I will put a bullet in the back of Trick’s head.”
I glanced his way, unable to see him clearly with him in the dark and me in the light.
“Come on, Marlie. I’ve done it before. Give up the gun or he’s dead.”
I let go the butt of the gun, let it roll forward on my finger.
“Good girl. Put it on the ground. Slow.”
I knelt slowly, my hand out, the gun dangling from my forefinger. I kept my eyes on Burke. “You win, Burke. You’re the hero. You broke up the drug ring. I’m proud of you,” I said, and leaned a little to put the gun where he was shining the light.
“Too late, babe. I’m smarter than Paul. His head is way below his belt. Put the gun down. Now. Or Trick gets it.”
I turned my hand a little to the side, almost horizontal, the gun butt touching the ground.
I lunged to the left, gripped the gun and shot Burke. Twenty years in the Army – I can march and I can shoot. I heard him grunt once then hit the ground. The flashlight he held rolled free, a kaleidoscope of light spun across the asphalt and the boat behind us.
I rolled too, away from him, still holding the gun. The smell of cordite was thick. Paul groaned in the dark. Maybe the gunfire would shut him up. I pulled my knees up and lifted onto one of them, my right leg out for balance. Getting to my feet, I eased back, away from the light and closer to the building behind me. Burke made no sound at all.
Moving in a wide circle I tried to get behind the flashlight. If I could pick it up I had the advantage. Right now, the dark was my friend. I put out a foot, shifted my weight to it and brought up the other. Slow but steady. I was shifting forward again, my weight balanced on both legs when another light bloomed from the ground and a bullet nicked my left calf. I dove again, scraping my hands but keeping the gun and rolling. I rolled toward the boat, or where I thought the boat was, trying to keep my eyes aimed at the spot the shot came from. All I could hear was the sound of my clothes against the asphalt as I rolled, still clutching the gun in my right hand.
I must have rolled ten or twelve feet by the time I stopped, my mouth wide open, trying to breathe without making a noise. My elbows stung as I rested on them, bringing my left hand up to support the right one with the gun in it. I eased in a deep breath, drawing it in as far as I could before letting it out. The flashlight on the ground shone against the stucco of the building, creating a dim, pale glow. It reflected onto the asphalt below but it was very little light. I looked away and closed my eyes. I tipped my watch to see what time it was and couldn’t see it. I brought my left hand up and touched my cheek with the watch face. It was broken. I felt the rough edges on my skin. I put my left hand back on the butt of the gun. Another deep breath.
There was a scuffling sound and Paul groaned again. At least I thought it was Paul.
I waited, letting my legs relax, wiggling my toes, anything to stay loose for a minute or so. Another sound. Maybe a sigh? A deep breath? I tightened my legs again, renewed my grip on the gun.
“Good shot,” Burke’s voice called from the dark. “Damn near hit me. Now come on out. Don’t make me kill Trick. I like the guy, babe. I like you. A lot, Marlie. Let’s talk, okay?”
I stayed quiet, trying to locate Burke by his voice. Harder than you think when you’re lying flat on the ground in the dark.
“Marlie? I know you hear me. Come on, this is ridiculous. Look. I’ll stand up, okay? Show a little faith, babe. I’ll stand up, you stand up. No guns. All right? I’ll go first. Can you see anything? Marlena, come on! Let’s talk.”
Steeling myself, I called out. “Okay, Burke,” and rolled to the right as fast as I could. Yellow flame sparked before I made the first revolution. I fired three shots at the spot I saw the flame and rolled some more. Then I waited. The smell of cordite returned, stinging my eyes.
What seemed like half an hour was probably minutes when I heard another groan. This one sounded tight, like someone had locked their jaw and gritted their teeth, trying not to make a sound. I rolled another couple of times, my feet bumped against something. The boat? Was I that far already?
I was clear of the slight glow from the flashlight shining against the building. I used my wrists to push my torso upright, finally getting back to my knees. Making as little noise as possible I got to my feet. They tingled, the sudden shift in blood flow rushing to them. I flexed my toes, my thighs and my butt. I didn’t feel anything. I wasn’t hit.
Headlights flashed, red and blue flashing lights lit up the area. A silver pickup came up one aisle and a black and white squad car came up the other. Vehicle doors opened, men shouted and I heard footsteps coming fast.
A flashlight lit me up again. Then another.
“Drop the gun! Now!”
I lowered my arm, the blood tingling through my hand as I released my hold on the gun and let it flip upside down. I let it dangle from my forefinger again.