by Chris Draper
“I asked him if he has seen anyone who doesn't belong in these parts.” Clyde said and Abji sat there for a moment with a hand on his chin. “He says there are many, but they all go their own way and he hasn't seen any new people around for awhile.” Clyde spoke some more to Abji, and the old man looked at Hawk then nodded.
“What did you say him?” Hawk asked.
“I told him you're looking for someone very important and that it's a matter of life and death. Abji understands and is trying hard to think of anything that could help us.”
They spoke further and Abji became more animated, moving his hands up and down to signify something large. The conversation became quicker, with more intonation placed on certain words that Hawk thought might be questions, then Abji got up and went inside.
“What's going on?” Hawk asked concerned.
“Abji says that there is a place deep in the Big Cypress swamp that may be what you're after. He says it's an old logging warehouse built in the forest that some of the locals say has been used as a hideout for many years. Abji says he has seen the place, but warns us not to go, that there are bad men who live there.”
“Bad men.” Hawk said. “Sounds like we're onto something.”
“And that's not all.” Clyde said. “He also said that one of the villagers was out there recently and said he heard loud machines, very loud machines that sounded like thunder.”
“Hmmm that makes me think of motorcycles."
“Same here.”
“Or perhaps something else, either way it sounds like something you wouldn't expect to hear in that part of the Everglades. I say we check it out.”
Abji came out a minute later with a thick piece of paper. He sat back down, balanced the paper on a piece of wood, and drew up a crude map, looking up every once in awhile to make sure Clyde understood. Near the edge of the map Abji marked a spot with a giant X that marked where the location was. After Abji had finished the map Hawk whispered in Clyde's ear that he thought they should be going, so they each said their goodbyes to Abji and his family then headed back to the airboat.
“What do you think?” Clyde asked as they walked back down the dirt road to the docks.
“I think we're on the right track.” Hawk said looking at the map in his hands. “How long to get there?”
“Probably a good two hours as long as the weather stays clear. Abji also warned that we're due for a major storm.”
“Like the one we got stuck in yesterday?”
Clyde chuckled. “That was a pin prick compared to what this one would be. Abji said they're saying it could be the worst one this area's had in years.”
“Marvellous.” Hawk said. “Guess we better get there soon then. As we agreed, once we get close enough you can get back on your way. I don't want you getting involved in something you're not supposed too.”
“You sure you want to go in there alone? I mean there could be tons of them...”
“Yes I can't have you involved anymore in this Clyde, you've done enough already. Just get me there in one piece is all I ask.”
“I'll do my best.”
They climbed onto the airboat and started heading East as Imokalee receded to a speck in the distance. Hawk silently regretted not taking a photo of the tiny village and promised to return here again someday if all went well. If all went well, he thought. But only time would tell if that would be so.
13
Dottie Wagner knew that her father wouldn't leave her like this, knew that he wouldn't leave her to die here. She also knew that Byron had planned on meeting him Wednesday morning. She'd overheard him talking about an exchange and had counted down the hours until that day in her head, running through the possibilities.
What would happen then? Certainly her father would give them what they wanted... wouldn't he? Or at least find some way to help her? She couldn't stop believing that somehow her father would find a way to get to her. It was true that sometimes she'd ignored him and that she hadn't always been the best daughter but she knew deep down that he wouldn't leave her to die. Maybe he would send the army, or send someone else to help her. After all, she was his only child and all he had left after her mother had died.
She could hear Byron and the other Syndicate talking at night sometimes, and knew they were serious about killing her if they didn't get what they wanted. She also knew they had killed that guard from the warehouse robbery. Would she be next? Wasn't she a witness to their crimes and where the hideout was? No...she hadn't actually seen them commit any crimes and they had brought her here blindfolded and gagged in the back of a van, so really all she knew was that she was in a forest somewhere a few hours from Miami. Maybe they would let her go. She just couldn't fathom the idea that this could be one of her last nights on earth, surrounded by these moss-covered walls with endless bugs skirting around them, laying on this bed. It was all so horrible...
The past few days had been a test of her strength and she'd realized the mistake she'd made running away. She missed her own bedroom, even missed the dull life she'd thought she had before. Funny how you could miss something that once seemed so boring, how you never really knew what you had until it had already become a memory.
She hadn't washed in days and felt sticky, dirty – almost felt like she belonged with the bugs that ran across her arms while she slept. Her unkempt clothes had been dirty and torn from sleeping in them and although there was nothing to do during the day she still couldn't sleep – she had even been so tired lately that she didn't feel like thinking anymore. There wasn't anything to do in the cell besides read motorcycle magazines that had been left on the floor. When she'd first been put in the cell a few days ago she'd read them front to back, even though she had no interest in them.
Now though she was worn out, worried beyond exhaustion and was willing to do whatever it was they wanted. She'd even stopped yelling at Larry when he tried to get close to her which happened whenever the others were away and he was left to guard her alone. At first she'd smack him, yell at him, warn him she'd tell Byron which seemed to scare him enough – but yesterday she'd been too tired to stop him and he'd kissed her neck, made her feel vulnerable and cheap. He even called her a whore. He'd only stopped because the Syndicate had come back early from somewhere, otherwise she was sure he would have taken things further. The thought made her cringe.
And what about Byron too. She was still angry at herself for being so naive, falling in love with him and then having him stab her in the back when he learned she was from a rich family. It was all too much to think about at that moment though so she traced her fingers through her hair and tried to sleep amidst the sounds of rain pelting the walls outside. It came into the windows and trickled down the walls to a drain in the centre of the concrete floor. She didn't know what was worse – the rain that made the place damp or the extreme heat that caused her tongue to get dry.
Eventually she drifted off for a few minutes and dreamt about her old life, the things she had, the things she wanted – the things she might never see again. Then she was awoke by the loud steeldoor to the room opening, the heavy hinges grinding against hard metal, and saw Byron come in to the room looking angry. In his hand he had a plate with her supper on it. It was the usual red beans with mashed potatoes that she'd been living on all week. Lately she hadn't had much appetite for anything and usually ate only half of what they brought in. Byron thrust the plate in front of her and walked over to look out the window in her room. The rain and winds were picking up, blowing the trees around outside.
“Sure is gonna be a big one.” He said with his back turned away. “Hope it doesn't scare off your old man from coming to meet us.”
“He'll be there.” Dottie croaked, suddenly hearing the exhaustion in her voice for the first time. She hadn't talked to anyone for nearly 24 hours and was surprised at how old her voice sounded. Byron was still looking out the window and she noticed he had left the steeldoor wide open. Usually Byron would communicate through the door but toda
y he had come in for some reason. Was he setting some kind of trap? Maybe it was open because he thought she wouldn't try to escape. But the door...it was right there. All she had to do was run through it, run outside and disappear into the trees then they would never find her. She could run for hours, lose them, and find her way back home somehow. Her mind was tired though and she wasn't thinking clearly, everything was muddled and her thoughts were all scattered.
And what about Wednesday? What if her Dad did give them the money, what then? Would Byron just let them both go? Let them ride off into the sunset together? No, she knew Byron better than that. There was no way he'd let them go – somehow she had to get to her father before then. She saw the chance and had to take it. And before she thought any further, and before she really knew what she was doing, her legs sprang up and raced her through the open door, and Byron was too slow to grab her. She ran down the long hallway, through the living space where a few Syndicate looked up in surprise and ran until she saw a large door that she figured led outside. She could hear Byron yelling something down the hallway, heard more footsteps coming, and ran to the door. She could feel her heart thumping against her ribcage.
Outside was freedom and outside was right there. But there was a bolt lock securing the door, and she was just about to move it to the left when a powerful force took hold of her by the hair, propelling her backwards.
She shrieked and saw Stacey Defleur holding a lock of her long blonde hair. She yanked her head back hard and spoke into her ear: “Where do you think you're going missy?” She said maniacally. “You may be Byron's little bitch but you don't fool me.” She grabbed her by the arm and started dragging her back to her room.
Stacey was a powerful woman and she knew there was no point in trying to fight her off. She tried pulling away from her but whenever she did Stacey smacked her in the face. She dragged her back to the room, threw her down on the bed and snarled, “Next time you try that I won't be so nice.”
Byron came back into the room pushing Stacey aside and grabbed Dottie by the throat and she could feel his raw power, his strength flowing through her. She looked into his dark eyes and felt genuine fear and then he swung his right hand back and slapped her hard across the face. He had hit her before but had never done it in front of others which made her feel ashamed and embarrassed.
She started to cry and Byron said, “That's what you get for trying to screw around. How far did you think you would get out there?”
Then he shook his head, told the others to leave and they filed out of the room and he locked the door behind them. Then she was left alone again sobbing on the bed with her thoughts. Eventually the tears subsided and all she could think about was the hope that this terrible ordeal would all be over soon.
≈
They travelled for another hour before the winds and rain started picking up again and Clyde was forced to slow down the boat. Visibility decreased rapidly and several times he mentioned taking a break but Hawk was determined to keep moving forward. The sawgrass became more dense as they entered Big Cypress and the blades at the back of the boat tore through it like a power lawnmower as the scent of fresh grass filtered into their nostrils. Hawk was sitting beside Clyde as he steered the boat and took out the map Abji had given them. He held a hand over it to shield it from the rain, tracing a finger over where they were and how much farther they had to go, then put it back in the duffel bag beside him.
“According to Abji's directions, we should be there in the next hour.” Hawk said cupping a hand to his mouth.
“Might take longer in this rain.” Clyde shouted. “The blades at the back are getting clogged with wet grass, I'll have to go back soon and remove them or we'll get stuck moving at a snail's pace the rest of the way.”
Hawk yelled, “Maybe we should pull over and do it now before the weather gets any worse.”
A second later a loud snap was heard from the right and they both quickly looked over to see a large mangrove topple over into the lake beside them. The splash sent a flank of waves moving towards the boat and some water flooded over the sides and pooled around their feet.
“Shit!” Clyde yelled and steered a bit left to avoid the fallen tree.
“We could have been goners back there.” Hawk said looking back. “That thing came at us like a 50-foot pole.”
“The oldest trees in the Everglades are in the Big Cypress.” Clyde said looking at the water on the floor near his boots. “That tree might have been waiting to fall over for a hundred years. We better get some of this water out of the boat, there's a small pail in my canvas bag you can use if you don't mind.”
Hawk fetched the small pail from the bag and started throwing some of the water out over the handrail. The rain was starting to come down hard and it seemed as soon as he emptied a pail over the side the water would replenish itself in the boat. After a few minutes he sat back down, satisfied that at least a quarter of what had been in the boat had been thrown overboard.
“It would take me a lifetime to get all of this water out.” Hawk said. “Hopefully the weather will clear up soon.”
“I think we're heading right into the thick of it. Things are gonna get a little more hairy as we get closer.”
They came around a large bend in the lake and drove by a few more fallen trees. Loud thunderclaps roared out of the sky in gigantic whoops and silver streaks of lighting lit up the dark clouds like daggers tearing through mesh. Clyde fetched a jacket from his bag, stuck it around himself and kept a look out ahead.
Hawk was getting more anxious the closer they got, wondered what he would find up ahead when they got there. Wondered if there would even be anything at all. He wasn't nervous but felt a knot tightening in his stomach all the same. Hawk had never been the type to worry about things. That was one thing that set him apart in cadet school, his ability to always stay cool in most situations. One time when he was still a rookie he was out on patrol with a senior officer and they'd run into some trouble with one of the Filipino gangs in the Tenderloin district. An argument had broken out between the senior officer and the gang that led to a firefight. The senior officer was badly injured and Hawk had to hold off the gang from behind his cruiser until help arrived 10 minutes later. Those were the longest 10 minutes of his life but he'd survived. And he would survive this too – somehow. Even if it meant travelling through a blazing storm to find what he'd come here for.
Clyde kept the boat on a steady path and they both saw a narrow turn ahead that was partly obscured with overgrown marshland. It was impossible to see what was around the next corner so Clyde eased up on the throttle a little and they turned left slowly, making a wide angle around the marshland. What they didn't see was that another tree had fallen down behind the marshland that was obscured by the tall grass. Clyde saw it at the last second but didn't have enough time to react and the boat went over the log which became lodged in the blades at the back. The blades groaned and tried to tear up the heavy log lodged in the centre but it was no use. A trail of smoke started to come out of the back and with it the smell of burnt steel.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” Clyde yelled and stopped the boat. “That damn log will tear up the rotor! I gotta get it out now or we won't be able to go any further.”
Hawk looked around the boat. They were in the middle of the lake, with the closest shore around 20 feet to the right. “Are you sure you want to do it here? Maybe we can somehow push the boat over to the shore there, get on dry land.”
“Don't have a choice.” Clyde said. “The shores too far and this boat weights 1000 pounds plus the wind would slow us down anyway.” He looked down in the water, could see the bottom of the lake about 4 feet down. “I can see the bottom down there, I have some rubber pants in my bag, gonna put them on and go over the side and see if I can take out that log from the back with a crowbar.”
“I'll stay on board and keep an eye out from up here.”
“Good idea.” Said Clyde. “Never know what could be lurking around in the wa
ters this far out.”
Hawk took out his rifle from the case, loaded up a few rounds of ammunition into the chamber and kept a look out in the waters. The rifle would give him better range if anything were to come out at them and he covered it with part of his raincoat to keep water from getting inside the gun's chamber.
Clyde put on his wet pants, retrieved a heavy crowbar from his toolkit, and lowered himself slowly into the lake. The water was cold and he shivered as he waded to the back of the boat. He could see a few frogs darting back and forth over the lake's waters. He got to the back of the boat, saw the log wedged between two of the blades, jammed the crowbar under the log and started working the crowbar back, trying to dislodge the log from the propeller. Hawk was standing at the side of the boat and his eyes kept playing tricks on him in the rain. Several times he thought he saw the snout of a crocodile moving towards them but looked again and saw it was just a lilypad floating innocently on the lake's surface.
“How's it going back there?” Hawk called to Clyde who was yanking the crowbar back, his face all contorted, trying to get the log loose.
“It's coming but probably gonna take a few more minutes.” He said. “Damn thing's stuck like it was nailed in.”
Clyde kept forcing back on the log, felt it start to loosen more in his hand, then with one hard tug he yanked it the rest of the way out and laid it beside him in the water. Hawk looked over at the sound, saw Clyde was done and blew a sigh of relief, grabbed his rifle case and went to put it back when something caught his eye in the water about 8 metres to his left. It was coming slowly, treading through the water and his eyes knew what it was before his mind could register the thought.
