She stood next to the door and peered out, holding the shotgun close to her body. If she squinted, she could just see figures moving out onto the bow of the larger vessel, one manning the annoying searchlight and two others approaching the railing.
Charlie limped up behind her and shut off the light in the cabin, affording them a better view. “No sense putting up a target,”
he commented. “Wonder what they’re after?”
“I have no idea.” Kerry inhaled sharply as she realized the bigger boat was gaining on them again. She made a grab for the doorframe as the Bertram heeled over, then accelerated again in a new direction. “Jesus, Dar.”
Being in international waters, there wasn’t anyone, really, they could call. They could, Kerry realized, get into very real trouble out there and it would be weeks before anyone knew about it. “Dar?”
“I know!”
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65
Kerry exhaled.
“Ker?”
“Yeah?”
“This could get nasty!”
Kerry stepped out onto the stern and worked the shotgun mechanism. “I’m armed.”
“Great.” Dar felt more than a little frazzled. “Here I am playing Captain Kidd, and I’ve got Wyatt Earp on the stern.”
Bud leaned over the edge of the console and regarded Kerry’s wind buffeted form. “She know how to use that thing?”
Dar grunted, focusing on her route. Ahead of her, the sky no longer held stars, and as she stared ahead, lightning fluttered, outlining huge thunderheads. She pointed. “That the storm you were telling me about?”
“It’s
a
storm,” Bud stated. “You figgering to head into it?”
“Not exactly.” Dar looked behind her. The big boat was definitely gaining on them now. “But it could get a little rough.”
She plotted a course and then settled herself, wrapping her legs around the captain’s chair. “Kerry, stow it! I’m gonna be moving!”
She heard the cabin door slam. “All right, asshole. Let’s see if you can stick with me.” Dar headed between two tiny, uninhabited islands. The Bertram raced over the waves, which were now perceptibly choppier. The searchlight zapped over their heads. Dar felt its glare on her neck and she pulled the boat into a gentle arc, first one way and then the other.
A popping sound brought her head up and around. Both she and Bud ducked as a flare seared past their starboard side. Dar spent an unfruitful moment wishing like hell her father was beside her, and then directed her full attention to threading the boat through the narrow channel.
“Getting shallow,” Bud offered.
“I know.” Dar kept one eye on the depth meter, and the other on the blinking buoys the marked the route. A roll of thunder rumbled overhead, almost obscuring the sound of the engines.
Another flare screeched by, this time on the port side. “Next one’s coming right up our backs, I’m guessing.”
“Inta the engine cowling,” the laconic ex-sailor stated. “Fastest way to stop you.”
“Thanks.” Dar’s eyes narrowed and she inched her route slightly to her left. Then without warning, she spun the wheel, sending the boat into a rapid curve. She straightened out and then went right again, daring their pursuer to follow them.
She heard their engines rev as they accepted her challenge, and with that sound, Dar smiled. “Gotcha,” she whispered, ramming the throttles home and skimming down a specific line in the sea with a light, precise touch on the controls.
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Melissa Good
Bud was gripping the console, his eyes wide. “Dar, you’re gonna bottom.”
Dar watched the depth meter. “C’mon…c’mon.” It sounded a warning, and she kept her fingertips on the wheel, mentally crossing other body parts and just wishing. The Bertram threaded a tiny line down the center of the meter, the klaxon blaring louder and louder as the sounds of their pursuers also got louder.
“Jesus Christ!” Bud yelled. “You have all lost your damn minds!”
“Nah.” The boat flashed over a section of water, then the klaxon cut off, just as they heard a horrific crunching sound behind them. Dar chanced a quick look behind her and saw the big boat heeling off to one side, its engines dying and panic on the bow. She faced forward again, into the rain now hitting the shield around the console. “I just play a mean game of chicken.”
Every nerve in her was alive. Dar could see her own grin reflected in the glass, and she just barely kept herself from letting out a wild yell of triumph. “All right,” she was proud of the even tone in her voice, “now let’s get outta here.”
Bud unglued his hands from the rail. “Whoinhell taught you to drive?” he growled.
Glinting blue eyes reflected back in the windshield. “My dad,”
Dar replied, savoring the moment. Then she keyed the mic for internal communications. “Kerry?”
“Here.” Kerry’s voice sounded a little out of breath. “Holy shit, Dar!”
“Yeah.” Dar trimmed the engines, which now labored against the rising seas. “Out of the frying pan… I’m gonna circle back around and see if I can get past this storm and come back into the island from the other side.”
“Anything I can do?”
“Monitor the radio. See if you can pick up those bastards calling for help. I want to know who they are.”
“Right.”
Dar clicked the mic off, and clipped it. “Board me, will you?”
she muttered. “I don’t
think
so.”
KERRY PUT THE mic down, but left her hand on it for a long moment as her nerves steadied. “Okay,” she finally said, gathering her composure and pushing away from the wall. “Glad that’s over.”
“Me, too,” Charlie agreed. He was seated securely in one of the chairs bolted to the deck. “Now, whatinthehell was it?” He got up and peered out the window. “Sumbitches bottomed, huh?”
“Yeah.” Kerry walked over to the galley and removed a bottle of Gatorade, popped the top and sucked down several mouthfuls.
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67
She set the bottle down. “Now all we have to worry about is the weather.” She walked back over to the radio, set it to fast scan, and turned the volume up. The shotgun was already tucked back into its case under the seat, and now that the immediate danger was over, Kerry felt her entire body shaking in reaction.
Adrenaline rush, the hard way
. With a sigh, Kerry sat down in the other bucket chair and let her hands rest on her thighs.
“Ain’t’ your cuppa brew, is it?” Charlie asked.
Kerry gave him a wry look. “I’m a Midwestern Republican with a degree in Information Technology. What do you think?”
The big man chuckled. “You done pretty good, though,” he said. “Where in the Midwest you from?”
“Michigan,” Kerry replied. “Saugatuck.”
“Been up there a time or two,” Charlie said. “Got to do some dry suit work in the lake once upon a time.”
Kerry was glad of the distraction. “Is there anything to see down there?” she asked curiously. “I always wondered. Other than downed freighters, I mean.”
Charlie shrugged. “We weren’t sightseeing,” he explained with an apologetic look. “You could ask Big Andy, though. He did two tours up there.” He paused. “Strange, talking about him real time now.”
“I can imagine.” Kerry leaned back, folding her hands over her belly. “I’ll ask him, though.” She smiled. “I remember the first time we went diving with him. He’s like a fish.” She waggled one hand in mid air.
“Always was,” Charlie acknowledged. “A real natural. Used to watch him swim and wonder if he was hiding gills.”
Kerry nodded. “I know. Dar’s the same way.”
“Ah.” Charlie looked up as the door opened and Bud came in.
He addressed his partner. “Didn’t ’spect you’d get a wild hare ride with dinner, didja?”
Bud shook his head and snorted. “Crazy assed bastards,” he said. “Near as crazy as the nut drivin’ this thing.”
One of Kerry’s eyebrows rose. “I think Dar did pretty good,”
she stated. “They’re on the rocks; we’re not.”
“Luck.”
“With Dar? Never.” Kerry got up and paced over to the galley, retrieving her bottle of Gatorade. “She always knows what she’s doing.” She sucked a mouthful of the drink. “Now we just have to find out who and why.”
“Well, you could go back and ask,” Charlie joked wanly.
“Lemme know if that’s what you’re gonna do. I’ll swim back and tow…” Bud indicated his partner with a thumb, “this thing. I don’t want no part of them people.”
Kerry leaned on the counter. “Is this something that happens 68
Melissa Good
often? I know we were reading something in the Miami papers about modern day piracy, but I never imagined the pirates drove luxury yachts.”
Bud and Charlie looked at each other but didn’t answer.
Kerry’s other eyebrow rose.
“They weren’t pirates,” Bud finally muttered. “Not the kind we have around here, anyhow.”
Ah
. Kerry noticed neither of them would meet her eyes. “So it does happen.”
“Oh, well, you hear things,” Charlie interjected. “You know.”
Uh huh.
“No, actually I don’t,” Kerry answered. “But then, what were these guys after?”
Bud shrugged. “Maybe they just didn’t like Dar’s attitude,” he suggested. “Inherited trait.”
Kerry was quite surprised to hear herself produce an almost audible growl. “Excuse me,” she said abruptly. “Keep an ear on the radio. I’m going topside.”
DAR UNCLIPPED THE plastic water bottle from under the console and gulped its contents, satisfied with her new course at last. They were headed into a little weather, the winds had picked up to about twenty knots and the seas were up, but the Bertram rode the surf solidly, and she knew she could make the eastward turn around the far side of the island in about ten minutes.
She turned around in her seat and looked behind her, shading her eyes against the rain. She could just see the other boat’s running lights far back, bobbing up and down in the surf but coming no closer. The depth would have been shallow enough to rake the bigger boat’s hull and maybe even puncture it, depending on how they hit, and though it was a wide sea and bad weather, Dar had absolutely no compunction about leaving them to their fate.
Dar swiveled around and thought about that for a minute.
“Okay.” She addressed the controls. “What would Dad do?” The dials and gauges peered mutely back at her.
Dad would
… Dar chuckled dryly. Her dad might have stayed and challenged the other boat, but if he’d done what she had, he might have at least called the Coasties for them; her mother wouldn’t have.
To hell with
them
.
Dar still felt pumped, almost giddy at her successful escape.
She’d hoped the high speed run up the center of two parallel reefs, keeping her keel right down the space between them, would work, but she’d also known she was counting on luck and her own piloting skills a lot more than she should have.
But… Dar wiggled her fingers, looking at her strong hands.
She’d done it. She chortled privately, clearing her throat and
Terrors of the High Seas
69
resuming a serious expression as she heard someone coming up the ladder behind her. A peek over her shoulder brought her grin back.
“Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” Kerry had on her rain slicker and was carrying Dar’s. She took the seat next to Dar and handed her the slicker. “I’ve finished pooping in my pants now. How about you?”
Dar laughed as she leaned back and pulled on her bright red rain jacket. “That was something, I gotta tell you. What the hell was up with those people?”
Kerry leaned on the console. “I don’t know, but we’d better find out, Dar. This is not funny.”
“No kidding.” Dar finished fastening her hood, then glanced at Kerry. “You okay?”
Green eyes blinked at her in the misty rain. “That was really scary.”
Dar laced her fingers through Kerry’s damp hair. “I know.”
“Your old friends are making my nape hairs rigid.”
“Sorry.” Dar scratched her neck. “Bud’s pretty abrasive,” she admitted. “I’ve kept in touch mostly because of Charlie. He’s a good guy.”
Kerry sighed, aggravated. “He’s married to a jerk.”
Dar eyed her. “There’re a lot of people who’d say the same about you,” she joked. “That you’re married to a jerk, I mean,” she added. “Not that you
are
one.”
“Pah.” Kerry started laughing. “Okay, I’m cranky, I hate being scared, and mysterious black boats who do great pirate imitations really tick me off.” She looked up as thunder rolled overhead. “Gee, thanks. That so helps.”
Dar reached out and pulled Kerry over into her lap. She hugged her close as she made a slight adjustment in the boat’s course and started her turn to the east. “We’ll be out of the rain soon. We’ll drop these guys off, then we’ll head out to St. Johns. Once we’re there, I’ll call in and have that damned boat checked out. Sound like a plan?”
Kerry found that not even rain and two layers of plastic could ruin a good Dar hug, and she grunted softly as she returned it. “I like it,” she agreed. “Do we have reservations on St. Johns?”
“Uh huh, at Caneel Bay,” Dar replied.
“Is that the one with the seven beaches?” Kerry was intrigued.
“And DSL in the rooms?”
Dar nodded. “With rental laptops. Got all the essentials covered.”
Kerry briefly considered telling Dar that she had stashed one of their laptops, but decided it wasn’t the time. “Be still, my technobeating heart.”
The mic crackled. “Hey, Dar.” Bud’s voice came through. “Got 70
Melissa Good
a distress call casting down here. 117.9”
“Thanks. I’ll tune it in,” Dar answered. “We’re coming in around the eastern side of your island.”
“Yeap.” The mic clicked off.
Dar frowned, then shook her head and tuned in the marine radio. For a few moments, there wasn’t any sound, and she thought she’d gotten the wrong channel. Then a shrill feedback sound erupted and a voice came through.
“Mayday! Mayday! Help!”
“Oh, that’s professional,” Kerry sniped.
“This is
Siren of the Sea
…in bad weather… sinking…”
The words cut off. Dar peered at the radio, then looked behind them. “I don’t think that’s them.”
“Help! This is
Siren of the Sea
… Thirty foot sailboat in bad weather. I lost my engine and snapped the mast lines. Taking on water.”