The Sail

by Landon Beach

  “They never came up. I’d say they both drowned.”

  “Shit,” the helmsman said. “Well, that’s not gonna be good enough for the boss. We better get confirmation. But first, check the boat for the girl.”

  With Trist down, it was three against one. And they had the high ground. Even if he could climb aboard and get ahold of one of them, they’d shoot him before he could get to anyone else. And they might kill Trist. Right now, they could kill him without any trouble, but they were tying him up instead. Could he live with himself if he got both kids killed right now? His son was injured, but at least he was alive. And the girl...what to do?

  The sound of screaming and struggling aboard broke his concentration. He heard, “Get your hands off of me!”

  “You’d never believe it,” the man who had a hold of Jill said as he brought her up through the companionway. “Guy had a damn hot tub underneath his aft bunk.”

  Robin saw the girl thrown against the rail and then held down by one of the men while the other began to bind her arms and legs with rope.

  “Well, well, well,” said the helmsman. “You’re not where you’re supposed to be are you, honey?”

  “Fuck you!” Jill yelled.

  The men finished and the helmsman laughed as he gagged her mouth with a handkerchief. “If I didn’t have my orders to get you back as soon as possible, you’d be gettin’ your wish, darlin’.”

  Robin watched as the other men loaded Trist aboard the cabin cruiser.

  Screw it. Robin let go of Keach and went to reach up for the steel pulpit support when the helmsman returned to the starboard rail.

  Robin went under and re-gripped Keach’s body. He counted to twenty and then slowly broke the surface until just his eyes were above water.

  The men picked up Jill and threw her aboard the powerboat while the helmsman studied the water.

  A few moments later, they rejoined him at the rail.

  “Gould, you’re our scuba guy now that Blake and Jenson are dead. Gear up and search the water for the bodies.” He turned to the other man. “Kory, you stay topside while he dives. I’ll take the two kids back, dispose of Blake and Jenson, then be back to get you.”

  “How long?” Kory asked.

  The helmsman smirked. “I’ll try to buy you both some time.”

  “What in the hell does that mean?” Gould said.

  “You know what that means. The boss lost one of his best men. We all just don’t show up without the bodies. I’ll come back and get you in a few hours. However, if you find them earlier than that, radio us on channel seven with either ‘found one fish’ or ‘found two fish’.”

  Gould looked at the water. “What if I can’t find them?”

  The helmsman pulled him up and looked into his eyes. “Find them.” He released his grip and departed. It was silent for a minute and then Robin heard gear being passed over from the cabin cruiser to Gould.

  He heard the helmsman say, “What a goddamn mess. Sweetheart we’re gonna put you right between these two dead colleagues of mine. Keep you company on your ride back home.” There was shuffling and grunting and then he could hear Jill begin to sob. A minute later, the Bayliner’s engine came to life, and the boat started to move. I’ll be there to get you both out soon, he said to himself as he watched the boat speed away.

  The sound of the motor faded and was replaced by the sound of Gould gearing up to dive.

  “I’m heading below to get some food,” Kory said. “Then, I’ll sit up here and wait for you.”

  Robin didn’t hesitate. Grabbing the anchor chain in one hand and Keach’s body in the other, he submerged and began kicking and pulling himself deeper along with the body. Perhaps ten feet down, he took the sleeve of Keach’s shirt and tied it off to the chain. He waited a few seconds to make sure Keach’s body was staying put, and then rose to the surface. He started to hyperventilate and then took one last huge breath and dove straight down toward the bottom.

  As he kicked with all of his might, his lungs started to ache, but he pressed on, a determination like he had never felt before. He had killed and had answered the question that had run through his mind ever since he was old enough to ask it: “When faced with survival or death, could I take another human life?” He had no military training, but he was an athlete and a nurse who knew the human body. He had seen death up close for his entire career; to save Trist and Jill, he would be willing to kill again.

  He reached the bottom and felt around for the rocks. At first, he felt just sand. He kept searching, thinking that he would have to surface and dive again. Then, his hand touched one of the boulders! He moved over it and located the tank. Finding the tank valves and regulator, he turned on the air and put the regulator in his mouth. The air filled his lungs as he took a few deep breaths. He ran his hand along the tank straps until he found the mask. Taking his sailing knife out, he cut the rope attaching it and put the mask on and cleared it. Lastly, he strapped the tank on.

  He sheathed his sailing knife again and looked up. Darkness surrounded him. Without any fins, he had no mobility. He would have to surprise the diver. He started to ascend.

  ✽✽✽

  Trist awoke. His head throbbed and hurt even more as his body bounced up and down. Where was he? He tried to move his hands but found them tied behind his back. He tried his feet, but they were bound together by rope around his ankles. He blinked and looked up as the sky shot by overhead. He felt nauseous and turned on his side. And then he saw Jill wedged between two men with crimson caverns in their chests and their necks littered with tiny red holes.

  Jill’s eyes were wide open and staring at him. Water sprayed over the rails and showered them as the boat raced through the water. Like a snake, Trist slithered across the deck until he reached Jill’s feet. She motioned with her eyes for him to put his head on her feet and he slid over into position. With one heave, she lifted him up and he now sat on the deck.

  He got his head near her right ear. “What happened?” He said.

  Her eyes moved up to the fair-weather console. Trist followed her gaze and saw the helmsman driving the boat and talking on the radio, which they could not hear over the roar of the engine and the water spraying them. He tried to loosen the ropes behind his back, but they were so tight he was afraid they were cutting off the circulation to his hands. Dipping his shoulder, he started to squeeze between Jill and one of the dead men. She used her knees to help him push.

  The body fell over, and the man’s head thumped against the deck. They both looked up, but the helmsman continued to face forward and speak into the radio. Trist leaned over and then straightened up with his back against the stern, now side by side with Jill.

  He spoke into her ear once again. “We’ve got to hang together. Keep thinking of how we can get out of this.” He paused. “Did you see my Dad?”

  She shook her head side to side. Trist put his head down for a moment. She put her head on his shoulder.

  Then, the boat began to slow.

  ✽✽✽

  On the way up, Robin found the anchor chain with Keach’s body still secured to it. He untied the body, and, holding it along with the chain, descended perhaps another fifteen feet. The night water was freezing. He looked for the diver’s light. What he couldn’t see was that a small gathering of fish had started to probe Keach’s chest wound. If this had been the ocean, the sharks might have already started ripping him to pieces.

  A light appeared under Levity’s hull and swept back and forth heading away from the boat. Then, the light turned his way but was still aimed about ten feet above him. Quickly, he put Keach’s body in front of his and started to swim toward the diver. Robin pulled out his sailing knife.

  ✽✽✽

  Gould finned ahead with lazy kicks. He’d make one more pass by the sailboat and then go deeper. This whole night had been a blur. First, he had been woken up from his dream-laced sleep by Keach telling him to get dressed and board the boat. He had looked at his watch. 12:35 a.m
. Seriously? Had he misread the delivery schedule? No, he had been told. Someone had escaped. Escaped? He didn’t even know someone was being held there—and didn’t wanna know. Merchant vessel shows up, he dives and gets the product to the cave. That’s it. Professional. Clean delivery every time. His shit was in one sock, and he don’t want nobody messin’ with it. Sanders said he had leadership potential. Damn straight. And he ain’t gonna let no one get in his way of runnin’ the joint in a few years. Then he had seen the girl on the sailboat. Jesus H. Christ, what a bod. He shook off the thought. None of his business.

  About to turn around, he steered the light one more time to the left and then back to the rig...what was that? Rising up toward him was the body of Mason Keach, and, what was rising behind his head? Bubbles? Was Keach still alive? He blinked his eyes. Shit, was he getting nitrogen narcosis? Keach kept coming at him, his eyes open. Gould kicked toward him.

  ✽✽✽

  The diver approached, moving his light up and down the body. When he was only a few yards away, Robin pushed the body at him. The diver freaked out and dropped his light. Robin swam around behind him, and, holding the man’s hood in one hand, thrust his knife into the diver’s neck. Savagely, Robin sawed. The regulator popped out of the man’s mouth and soon his body went lifeless.

  Robin had no time. He ripped off the man’s mask and hood. Then, he took off his own mask, pulled the hood on, and put his mask back on and cleared it. Next, he took the man’s fins off and put them on along with the man’s weight belt. Taking Keach’s arm once again, he swam toward the starboard side of Levity until he was twenty yards off the beam. He surfaced with the body and positioned himself behind it. Then, trying his best to mimic Gould’s voice, said, “Kory! I found Keach. Meet me in the stern.”

  He watched as Kory came over to the rail and looked out through the darkness at the body and him. “Sonofabitch, pal. Good work.” He turned around and walked to the stern gate and swung it open.

  Robin paddled behind the body, and when he was even with the stern he watched Kory step down onto the swim step.

  The body approached with only Robin’s hooded head out of the water behind it. “One down, one to go,” Kory said as he knelt down and reached for the body.

  Robin Norris’s hand shot out of the water and grabbed Kory’s t-shirt, pulling him in.

  Beneath the surface, Robin wrapped his hand around Kory’s neck and strangled him. Kory stopped kicking and tried to remove Robin’s hands from his neck. Meanwhile, Robin kicked down taking Kory deeper and deeper. Kory yelled, sending a shower of bubbles up into Robin’s mask. Robin squeezed and kicked harder. In a last desperate effort, Kory flailed wildly, sucking in more water. Robin didn’t stop and soon the man’s body stopped moving.

  He stopped kicking and looked into the man’s dead eyes. He checked his depth: forty feet. He let go of Kory and watched his body float away. Then, he swam for the surface.

  24

  Jill told Trist they were in the same cell that she had been held captive in before. At gunpoint, they had been forced to shower and dress in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt each. They had just taken a seat on the bed when the cell door opened and the lights dimmed.

  Jill recognized Madame, wearing an evening gown, followed by a tall 40-something gentleman wearing loafers, chinos, a webbed belt, and a short-sleeved polo shirt. Behind them, a younger man wearing a gun in a shoulder harness and holding a nightstick entered and stood by the door.

  As Madame got closer, Jill looked at the right side of her face. It was red and swollen behind the make-up attempting to cover it up. Her eyes looked glazed. She was on something for sure. Cocaine? Heroin?

  The older man stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. His eyes measured Trist first and he nodded in an approving fashion. Then, he looked over at Jill and smiled. “My, my. Quite the night so far.” He kissed Madame’s ear and then whispered into it, “Wouldn’t you say, Madame?”

  Madame grinned and said, “Quite a night, my love.” She stared seductively at both Trist and Jill. “I’m ready to go to work on these two.”

  The man said, “I thought you might. It’s been a while since we had a young man down here.”

  She leaned her head back and said, “I know,” then began to tongue his neck.

  He tapped her shoulder and she stopped. With his right hand, he reached up and started massaging the back of her head. She breathed in. His face became serious as he addressed Trist and Jill. “Madame has been naughty tonight.” His hand snatched hold of her hair and jerked her head back—her eyes showing no fear. “But I am going to give her a second chance. Which is to say I’m going to give you both one chance.” He paused. “In twenty minutes, I am going to come back here with a chair and watch as you three have at it. If you participate, then you’ll see tomorrow morning. As you’ve heard, Madame has already agreed to join in. If either one of you chooses not to, then this gentleman over here,” he said, motioning to the man stationed by the door, “will kill all three of you, one by one, as the others watch.” He let go of Madame’s hair and took a step back. “I’ll let the three of you get acquainted and then we’ll be back.” He turned around and started to walk toward the door.

  “You sick motherfucker,” Trist said.

  The man stopped and turned back around. “Now, that’s the kind of spirit I like. If you can harness it and put it into action that is positive, then this could get exciting.” He paused and looked at Jill. “But I’m afraid if you don’t change your attitude, this is not going to end well for you and the ladies here.”

  “Okay, okay. Just hold on,” Trist said. “Look, you’ve got your thing going on with this woman. That’s between you two. I just lost my dad tonight, forever.” He paused. “And Jill, she has nothing to do with any of this operation either. Just take us away in some van, blindfold us, whatever, man, and let us go. We don’t want any part of this.”

  The man grinned. “I like this kid, Madame. He doesn’t break easily.”

  “So what do you say?” Trist said. “C’mon. Let us go.”

  “But he’s not very smart.” He took a step toward Trist. “You don’t get it, do you?”

  “Get what?”

  He stopped in front of Trist and put a hand on his shoulder. The man with the nightstick was now at his side, ready in case Trist tried anything. “You’re never leaving here,” the man said. “And after tonight...you won’t want to.” He started to run his hand down the side of Trist’s face and Trist moved his head away.

  “You just wait until tomorrow night, my young friend.” The man said as he turned around and left.

  The man with the nightstick followed.

  ✽✽✽

  Outside the cell, Livingston and Bannon were met by Sanders.

  “Everything else back under control?” Livingston said.

  “Yes,” Sanders reported.

  “Good,” Livingston said back. “Since we’re short a few bodies, we’ll need you in the cave harbor tonight. I want the boat cleaned, the corpses taken care of, and the sailboat sunk. Understood?”

  Sanders’s face showed a tiny hint of disappointment. “Yes, sir.”

  Livingston knew Sanders wanted to watch from the closet control room, but his men had made a mess of tonight and Sanders needed to make it right. At least Keach was dead. One less problem to worry about. “Wonderful. Maybe you shouldn’t retire yet,” Livingston joked. “You and Eric seem to be the only ones I can trust around here.”

  Sanders gave a painful smile and then headed down the stone hallway toward the cave harbor.

  Livingston turned to Eric and put a hand on his shoulder. “Okay, let’s get ready for the show. Bring me a bottle of brandy.”

  ✽✽✽

  Robin cut Levity’s engine, and the boat was motionless with no lights on. He sprinted up forward and dropped the anchor.

  The boat was in a cove hidden by a section of a cliff that jutted out into Lake Superior that he had spotted with the night visio
n goggles while standing aloft on Levity’s spreaders minutes before. He could have gone further up the coast, but didn’t dare for fear of being spotted. When the anchored yacht Jill had mentioned—a Hatteras—had come into view, he had dropped down from the mast and swung the boat into the cove. There were no boats coming his way now, so he felt optimistic that he was still undetected.

  He set the anchor and headed aft. He was dressed in a full wetsuit and had his dive knife strapped to his leg. A spear gun sat on the starboard bench along with his mask, fins, dive light, and regulator and tank combo. He missed his shotgun—and wondered if he’d ever be able to tell Tyee he’d been saved by that gun. No time. He put the rest of his gear on and entered the water from the swim step.

  The suit and adrenaline helped him fight the temperature of the water, and he swam on the surface until he was past the furthest point where the cliff extended out into the water. In the distance to the north, he could see the huge Hatteras at anchor with her lights on. He’d check there if he was unsuccessful at finding the cave. Lining up with the mega-yacht, he dove down to the bottom and navigated by his compass.

  ✽✽✽

  “If we all work together, we can take both of those guys,” Trist said.

  “I agree,” Jill said. “Madame, you helped me once, could you do it again?”

  Madame looked away.

  Trist stood and walked over to her. “C’mon. Do you want to stay in this place forever?”

  She turned around and slapped him across the face. “You have no idea—”

  Jill broke in. “I think we do—”

  “No! You don’t!” Madame yelled. “You had your chance tonight. I gave you something I never got, and now we have to survive.” She swiveled her intense eyes at both of them. “And neither of you are going to be the reason that I die tonight. So, you both better start thinking differently right now.”