Page 22 of Wayward (Wrecked #4)

On the Water

Sam

Motors purring, we’re making good time, but good time to where? Do I trust the engineer? It could be a trap. But the bit I heard of what Turner said to Calvin? I’m going with my gut. And my gut says the guy wants his boat back. Either way, we need to get gone.

The full moon is a blessing and a curse.

The Rosewood’s off my port bow. She’s big but getting smaller by the second.

And the mansion sprawls up the hill off my starboard aft.

But what concerns me more is whether there are any guards who might already know it’s not Turner taking the boat out for a test drive.

A course is what I need―I flick on the chartplotter, changing it from the depth fishfinder to the GPS positioning and charts, and settle on the satellite view.

A quick search along the moonlight dappling the hillside and I match the picture with the terrain.

On the GPS, there’s a blurred-out section on the top of the hill, and that’s got to be the guard tower Turner told us about.

It’s off the starboard aft as well, as it shrinks on the horizon over my wake.

But we’re still in range. I’ve got it in my periphery, casually scanning it for any sign of movement.

We’ve made it this far, and being sprayed with bullets isn’t on my list of things to do tonight.

My heart slams in my chest as I push the motors as hard as I can.

The mantra of getting away from everything to do with the Zambranos rings through my head.

Even with more distance from the guard platform behind us, I’m not comfortable.

I switch from the GPS back to sea charts and plot a course to the resort, Treasure.

There’s a bang below deck, followed by a lot of loud jumbled words. I can’t make out what they’re saying. Easton’s, Dante’s, and Calvin’s voices collide in the wind.

I lean over and shout down into the forward cabin, “Keep it down!”

Zane’s head pops up. “Sorry, Cap. Apparently, this boat’s named after some mountain at Emily’s school.

Easton’s losing his shit.” Zane’s head is only a few inches above the deck.

“I’ll get them to quiet down. I was about to come up to ask you, what’s that light on the horizon?

I’ve been watching it get bigger. Looks like a boat from the berth, but it’s hard to get a bearing on it. ”

I glance over at Zane and then back to the horizon. Sure enough, there’s a dot of light coming straight at us from the big island. It’s on the course I’ve plotted to the resort. “If I were a gambling man, I’d say it’s the twenty of Ed’s men Esmeralda was talking about.”

There’s more shouting below.

Zane nods. “I’ll get them to be quiet.”

“Better yet. See if there’s anything we can defend ourselves with,” I say.

“Right, Cap.” Zane disappears below.

There’s a pit in my stomach―for the dot speeding toward us and for Zane reverting to calling me Cap. But the boat approaching quickly has to be dealt with first.

“Find anything?” I ask after a few minutes.

Dante comes up this time. “A fire extinguisher, a dive knife, and twenty cans of kidney beans.”

Calvin fills the rest of the stairs. “There’s the boat hook on the port side.”

“Dive knife and boat hook sound good,” I say.

“I still have a fairly good pitching arm,” Dante responds. “A can of beans to the side of the head can knock a guy out. Don’t ask me how I know.”

“Right, I still want to avoid them if I can. Shifting course twenty degrees.” I take it slowly, like I’m drifting, not yanking the wheel.

“Sounds good,” Calvin grunts.

Water sprays over the cockpit, and we bounce over a few rogue waves. Dante’s and Calvin’s heads sway by my feet.

“Fuck, the other boat just changed course.” My hands are locked on the wheel, but I glance behind me.

“You want me to take the boat hook now, Sam?” Calvin asks.

“No, but be ready to. I’m taking the offensive. Let me try to talk my way out of this.” I pick the radio mic. “Green Summit, Green Summit, over.”

The radio crackles. “Hey, Green Summit, tell me there’s still some dinner left?”

“Negative on that, you know Esmeralda.” I shrug and keep my eyes off Calvin and Dante. The other boat might have a scope on me.

“What did she make? Over.”

My eyes flick downward to Dante.

“She swore to the Philadelphia Eagles. She’s an expat but been here a good time for as rapid as her Thai was,” Calvin says.

“Thai cheesesteaks?” Dante raises his eyebrows.

I pick up the mic and repeat it.

“Fucking hell. We missed them?”

“Afraid so. Over,” I say.

Their boat straightens out. We’re going to pass, and pass far enough apart that we’ll be able to see each other.

But not close enough that, even with a Heisman Trophy arm, Dante would be able to knock somebody out with a can of beans.

And having Calvin hit someone with the docking hook won’t happen either.

Bullets, however... bullets won’t have the same problem beans do.

I rub the back of my hand over my face, covering my mouth. “Stay down unless I give you a signal. All the way down.” I grab the wheel with both hands again and stare straight at my route. Veering off-course would be highly suspicious.

The five minutes waiting for the other boat coming our way has my heart slamming in my chest. Theirs is a converted fishing boat, but the way their bow is hitting the water, there’s nothing standard about the boat.

I’m betting they have Mercury 400’s too.

They might be trying to blend in, but even a tourist could see they’re not trying to hook a blue marlin.

There are a half-dozen guys sitting on the side of the boat with guns resting in their laps.

I incline my head and keep going. The one steering gives a small nod back.

And they’re past my aft. My heart should be slowing, but it’s not.

One quick radio call from the boathouse and they’re going to turn around and then . . . it’s over.

“They’re gone,” Haley says, her shoulders squeezed between Dante’s and Calvin’s.

“Yeah, but don’t come up. The last thing we want is for them to see.”

“Right,” she says. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah.” But I don’t mean it.

“I hear you.” Haley reaches up and grips the top of my ill-fitting shoe. “You’re doing great. We’re almost home, and then you can give your niece and nephew a hug.”

“Almost home,” I repeat, but it doesn’t feel real. There are still a hell of a lot of things standing between us and home.

“We’re not docking where Turner told us to, are we? The resort?” Haley squeezes my toes again.

I glance down at her blue eyes. “That’s what I’ve got plotted. My gut still says it’s a good thing.”

“The paper charts have a dock right after it. They’re current,” Calvin says.

“Maybe. But I’m not changing course. Not yet.” Adjusting the GPS, I scroll through the map. “I see the other dock. Thirty minutes to the resort, thirty-five to the other dock. Let’s see what we come up with when we get closer.”

“He seemed like a nice guy. Not radioing when he found us. I just can’t help but think it’s a trap.” Haley hangs on to Calvin’s arm as we go over another rogue wave.

“Sassy, you’ve become cynical? I knew I could bring you over to the dark side.” Dante laughs.

“Not cynical, practical. I’ve always been practical.” Haley turns to face Dante.

Dante tilts up her chin and gives her a quick kiss. “Hmm, you say potato, and I say pommes dauphinoise, but sometimes I just want a French fry.”

“I don’t understand you. But I love you.” Haley kisses the tip of his nose.

“Love you too.”

“Take the love fest down below. Wait, belay that. We have thirty minutes. Be prepared to dock.”

Dante laughs. “What do you think I was going to do?”

“I understand you completely,” I say. Because I’d have the same thoughts he’s having now.

“Never thought you didn’t.” Dante disappears below with Haley. But Calvin doesn’t move.

“I think we should go to the resort.” He looks up at me. It’s an odd perspective. “I don’t know why, but I trust Turner.”

I nod. “I agree. But we’ll still see what the traffic is like when we dock. If the marina’s too full, we could ditch the boat near a beach and swim in.”

“I’d rather not be walking around in wet, tight black clothing at midnight in a city we don’t know.

This might be a trap, but I believed Turner when he said that the Zambranos have an in with people in the city.

It will be a hell of a lot easier to slip away if we come into a port and not a random beach that might not have services anywhere nearby,” Calvin says.

“Yeah. You’re right.” My eyes are on the horizon. The big island is coming into view. Lights are twinkling in the distance, and there’s a haze of light pollution above it. Not like Miami, but it’s a big city for sure.

The port’s quiet, being close to one a.m. I’ve shut the motors way down.

There are a few small boats on the way into port, fishing.

The boats bob up and down. The fishermen have set up bright pink and orange lights under the boats.

You don’t have to speak Thai to know one of them has caught something.

He yanks on the pole. His friend has the net at the ready.

A large squid thrusts up on the end of the line and into the net.

There’s a pang in my chest. I miss fishing. I slow down more.

“This looks good.” I yell down. “Zane, Calvin, come get the fenders.” They hustle up on deck.

Haley, Dante and Easton crowd the stairs.

Turner was right. There are three empty slips.

Zane jumps onto the dock and takes the line from Calvin.

Dante’s up and working lines too. We’re tied off, and I turn the engines off.

“All clear,” I say to Easton and Haley. A marine attendant is strolling slowly down the dock as I grab the key and toss it into the map pouch below the wheel.

“Sam,” Haley says, tapping my shoulder. “We need to go. We need to go now!”

“Move!” Zane yells.