Shadow Of The Abyss

by Edward J. McFadden III

  Splinter heard Lenah moving around on deck. He needed to decide what was best before he and Lenah talked about what to do. She would argue they should trust Lenny, because she thought he was a good guy and was her friend.

  Lenny was like most of the men Lenah met. They put on their best show as they tried their best to get in her pants, and this blind spot amazed Splinter, though he knew Lenah wasn’t as blind as she sometimes pretended to be. Splinter had no substantive reason to distrust Lenny, nor did he have a reason to trust him.

  The fuel pump. That was the reason.

  Splinter didn’t have another plan. They needed the part, and Lenny was their best chance to keep a low profile. He got up and went to the head and splashed water on his face. He hadn’t bathed in two days and he smelt like rotting fish.

  His knee ached and his head pounded, but not as bad as the day before. Not drinking was taking its toll, and mild nausea dogged him most of the day, except after eating when he felt really bad. The fog hadn’t come on in the last couple of days, and Splinter wondered if there was a correlation. Maybe Lenah was right. Maybe the alcohol fueled the fog rather than cleared it.

  He looked in the mirror. His eyes were red cinders, and dark black bags hung beneath his eye sockets. The scar that ran up the side of his face and hooked around his right eye was deep red. Strands of gray and black hair had escaped his ponytail and fell across his face, and his beard was unruly and matted. He decided a change was in order.

  ***

  Splinter headed into the pilothouse. “Morning.”

  Lenah turned from the command console and said, “Good…” She paused when she saw him. “You trimmed your beard.”

  “It’s a bit uneven. Had to use a fish knife, but it’s better.”

  “You look so different,” she said.

  “That’s the idea.”

  “And is that soap I smell?” She stepped close to him and sniffed.

  He felt an uncomfortable stirring and he sidestepped her and headed for deck. “Let’s get over to Lenny’s and get this thing done. I’ll grab the lines.”

  Out on deck Splinter felt like the twelve-year-old boy he’d been at his first dance, when Cindy Dumers tried to kiss him, and he’d shrunk away like a scared child. He chuckled at himself. She was just sniffing the soap dipshit.

  Motor one rumbled to life, and engine two was tilted up out of the water and silent. Splinter coiled the lead lines and Lenah brought up the anchor. The winch whined, and chain rattled over the bow as the anchor set in place.

  Lenah spun the Evenstar around and kicked-up the throttle. Splinter went back into the pilothouse and sat down so he couldn’t be seen by other boaters.

  There was an increased Coast Guard presence in the inlet, but they weren’t seen as they passed. It was a beautiful day and a line of crafts fed through the inlet like ants leaving their hill, but the charters looked half empty. Word about the lack of fish was getting around. Sea spray coated everything as a breeze out of the south pushed a crosswind over Indian River. The tide was going out and the muddy banks smelt like rotten eggs and dead fish. Crabs scuttled through the mangroves, and pelicans divebombed the bay, catching shiners.

  Lenah maneuvered the boat into her spot on the side of Lenny’s away from main canal and killed the engine. Splinter tied off the bow while Lenah took care of the stern.

  “How we going to handle this? Best if I’m not seen, but I want to hear this,” Splinter said.

  “Splinter, I can handle it alone. Wait here.”

  “Not happening. What’s your plan? You going in the back entrance?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll stay in the stockroom. That way he won’t see me, but I’ll be right there if you need me.”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  Splinter hated that word. The “screw you” of the new generation.

  The docks were quiet. Most of the charters were out for the day, and the shipyard was at lunch. Splinter heard the men laughing in the warehouse, music playing in the background. Every minute or so there’d be an outburst of yelling and laughter, and Splinter figured they were playing dice.

  The back door to Lenny’s was open and Lenah went in first, peering around to ensure Lenny wasn’t back there. When he wasn’t, she entered and called out his name.

  “Out here,” came Lenny’s voice from the front of the store.

  Lenah eased through the dimly lit supply room and Splinter took up position behind the swinging door that opened to the work area behind the main service counter.

  “Hi,” Lenah said.

  “Well, hey. People looking for you,” Lenny said.

  “About that. I came to you because I know I can trust you,” she said.

  “Trust me to what?”

  Silence. Splinter’s heart pounded in his chest and sweat dripped down his forehead.

  “To keep our meeting between us?”

  “Sure. Sure thing. What is it you need?”

  “This.” The rustle of paper as she handed Lenny the model and part number.

  “Blew the fuel pump. Dang. You need it put in? Terry’ll be back tomorrow and—”

  “Nope. I’m gonna put it in today. You have it?”

  “Let me check.”

  It took a second for Splinter to realize Lenny was coming to check in the back room. He darted down an aisle just as the swinging door squeaked on its hinges.

  “Should have that one,” Lenny called back.

  He walked down the center aisle toward the back of the storage room. Splinter got low and watched through the shelving. Lenny stopped in front of a wall of boxes and counted. Then he rubbed his chin and said, “Shit.”

  Lenny headed back out front and Splinter positioned himself behind the door again.

  “I don’t have it, Lenah. Take forty-eight hours to get it here,” Lenny said.

  “Forty-eight hours? No way to do it faster?”

  Lenny laughed. “You could drive to Miami.”

  Beeping blasted from the wall mounted TV playing I Love Lucy reruns.

  “What the hell is this now,” Lenny said. The volume on the TV rose.

  Splinter eased the door open a crack so he could see the TV.

  A middle-aged reporter stood before the Atlantic Ocean, the wind tousling his hair. “We interrupt your regularly scheduled programing to bring you this local special report.”

  The scene shifted to an aerial shot that showed a sinking sailboat, its tall mast tilted at a thirty-degree angle. “Just moments ago, the Coast Guard responded to a distress call off South Beach Park. Two sailors are missing, and two others are confirmed rescued by the Coast Guard cutter Valiant.” The scene cut to a close-up of the sailboat’s cracked hull. “Authorities are unsure what caused the boat to capsize, but speculate that the vessel was hit by a whale or other large marine animal. More on this breaking story as information becomes available. Now back to your regularly scheduled programming.”

  Splinter stepped back, his heart pounding in his chest. They had to find the creature before it hurt anyone else and tag the beast and prove it existed. Despite his personal situation, he still believed this to be the best course of action. After he told the coasties what he knew, they’d tell him to stay away, go home, then continue with their routine patrols, which clearly weren’t working.

  “Damn. Must be a big shark out there,” Lenny said.

  “That what you think is doing all the damage?” Lenah said.

  “What else could it be, a rogue orca?”

  “What are the fishermen saying?”

  “Between bitching about there being no fish anymore and the price of gas, not much. Rumors, but nothing worth talking about.”

  “Rumors? What rumors?”

  Lenny’s voice dropped an octave. “Some of the guys are saying something bigger is out there. That the tsunami dragged in something big from out in the rift valley and it’s scaring everything away.”

  Splinter pressed his face against the
door, listening.

  “Something bigger? Like what?” Lenah said.

  “Who knows. Most sea stories don’t hold much truth. Fishermen and hunters, they can spin a tale about nothing. About a way a fish swims, or where a deer chooses to take a dump.”

  “Lovely.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. What are you going to do about this part? You want me to order it?”

  “Yeah, I suppose. I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

  “Where you been? Sheriff Bankton stopped to ask if I’d seen you.”

  “I saw him. They just wanted to ask me if I’d seen anything unusual when I was out the last couple of weeks.”

  Lenny said nothing, waiting for Lenah’s report.

  “I haven’t seen anything unusual, except for the fish deciding to split.”

  Lenny laughed. “Yeah, there’s that.”

  “OK, I’m out. I’ve got a charter on the inner bay,” she lied.

  “Call me if you need me,” Lenny said.

  “10-4.”

  “OK, hey can we have dinner one night? One of these days I’m gonna stop asking,” Lenny said.

  Splinter almost laughed out loud when he heard Lenah cough.

  “We’ll see Lenny. You know us tomboys,” she said. Her voice was steady and somewhere between playful and stern. “You forget you saw me an’ we’ll talk when I come get the part. ‘K?”

  “You deserve better than that burnout Splinter,” Lenny said. “Where is he? Made you come in alone? He’s with you, right?”

  Splinter’s vision went a little red, and he stepped forward, the fog rolling in as he pressed his hands against the door. He heard a thump as Lenah put her hand on the opposite side of the swinging door, keeping it closed.

  “Don’t you worry about Splinter,” she said and pushed on through the door.

  Splinter shrank back and let her pass and then fell in behind her. “I might have to hit that ass,” Splinter whispered.

  “Build a bridge and get over it,” Lenah said.

  “Hannah Montana? Really?”

  Outside the day had gotten hotter and steam rose off the dock, which was wet with morning dew. As they headed back to the Evenstar, Splinter said, “Notice you didn’t settle up with him for the stuff we’ve taken.”

  “Timing is everything Splinter, you should know that,” she said. “I didn’t want to piss him off. We still might need him.”

  “Yeah, we can’t wait two days for the part.”

  “I’ve got an idea. Another one of your favorite people,” Lenah said.

  “Guppy?”

  Lenah nodded.

  “Crap. No other options?”

  “He can get the part and the tag gun and darts. He has a boat and can meet us on the water. Don’t get any easier than that.”

  “Why would Guppy do all that?”

  “I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse,” she said.

  “Wow. You’re on a roll, Fredo,” Splinter said. Lenah smiled and started to say something, but Splinter put up a hand. “I know, I know. He’ll do anything for you.”

  “Don’t call me Fredo. It was the Godfather said it, as you well know.”

  Splinter tried to call Will again on the marine radio and got no response.

  “Look what I borrowed when he was in the backroom looking for the part,” Lenah said. She held-up a slender white cord.

  Splinter took the cord and examined it. Where you going to plug this thing in?”

  “Cigarette lighter.”

  “This is a USB. You need an adapter.”

  “Shoot. How am I going to call Guppy?”

  “Don’t know.”

  The sun was climbing toward noon when Lenah tucked the Parker away in a secluded cove off Indian River. Shiners leapt in ordered rows from the still water, sending tiny ripples across the surface.

  Splinter tried to relax, the sun giving him the stink eye from its place in the clear blue sky. Lenah baited a line, dropped it in the water, and sat in the fighting chair.

  She didn’t get a nibble.

  15

  Back out on the bay, the single 150HP Yamaha screaming, the Parker sliced through the afternoon boat chop that slapped the shoreline and tore at the mangroves. Vessels moved south and north, a traffic jam of boats coming in from a day’s fishing, and charters leaving to catch the gray haze of dusk. When the weather cooled, fish came up from the depths to feed.

  This was the hour Splinter worried about the most.

  Lenah had gone back into Lenny’s and he let her use his cell phone to call Guppy.

  “Guppy bitched and moaned a little, asked me out again, but he said he’d meet us at Hell’s Rip with the part. Said the tracking dart and gun is harder, but he knows a guy. I think we’re good,” Lenah said. She had one hand on the wheel, and with her other she fingered the knot of hair on her head.

  Splinter could tell she was uncomfortable. Lenah was an independent woman and asking for help wasn’t easy for her. Especially asking Guppy. Splinter knew she was doing it all for him. She cared for him, even if he’d destroyed their relationship.

  Lenah brought the boat on plane and sat back in the captain’s chair. The Parker threw spray off the bow, and the sea breeze blew the mist across the deck onto the windshield. Indian River narrowed, and estuaries branched off like spider’s legs. Lenah eased back the throttle and the boat slowed to twenty-five knots at 3400RPM.

  “SONAR is showing nothing. RADAR looks clean,” Splinter said. “What time are we meeting Guppy?”

  “Twenty-one hundred,” she said.

  “You hungry?”

  “Yeah, but I’ve had enough fish for a lifetime,” she said.

  “I’d kill for a burger from the diner,” Splinter said.

  “Doesn’t Scales deliver?” Lenah said.

  “Out on the bay? Don’t think so.”

  “Don’t be dense. We’ll hang out over by Pier Twenty-one and when we see the delivery car come over the causeway will dock for a second. Doubt the high school delivery boy will recognize us.”

  Splinter nodded.

  Third time was the charm at Lenny’s, where Lenah used his phone, but he didn’t have a cigarette light adapter, so Lenah bribed the girl taking their burger order into telling the delivery boy what she needed and promised a big tip if he could make it happen.

  They coasted into the marina, paid the kid, and were back out at sea in sixty seconds, the boat reeking of onions and charred beef, Lenah’s cellphone charging atop the command console. As soon as it would turn on, Splinter intended to find out where Will was.

  Lenah dropped anchor within a knot of boats fishing the inlet and she and Splinter ate in silence, the gentle roll of the water slapping against the boat, the sweet sea breeze and the occasional cry of a seagull breaking the peace.

  Splinter called Will, and the call went right to voicemail. “Where the hell is he?” Splinter said.

  “I’m getting worried,” Lenah said.

  “If I don’t hear from him soon I’m gonna have to go on land and find out what’s happening.”

  “But you’re only allowed on land for one day every ten years,” she said.

  “Very funny.”

  When the sun set, Lenah pulled anchor and headed south for Hell’s Rip, which was a thin river that ran from the Atlantic Ocean through to the bay. A hurricane in the 1800s had caused a breach in the barrier island, pushing over the dirt road that would one day become the famous highway A1A. The rip in the barrier island was a favorite fishing spot when the tide was going out because the sea got sucked through the thin gap like a straw, pulling the fish with it.

  Lenah sparked the NAV lights, and Splinter went out on deck and sat in the fish fighting chair, staring up at the black-and-blue sky. No stars were visible yet in the growing darkness, and the paper-thin clouds stretched to the horizon like a blanket.

  Fifteen minutes later Lenah arced the Parker east. She pulled back on the throttle and the boat slowed, kicking up brown and green seaweed.
“Dang.” Seventeen boats were parked side-by-side across the rip, lines out.

  “Wonder if they’re hitting?” Splinter said.

  “You see Guppy’s Whaler?” Lenah said. Guppy’s runaround boat was a twenty-four-foot Boston Whaler, with twin 200HP Johnsons. He flew a flag showing a setting sun with a smiling face at his center. It was the logo of his company, Oceanic Memories, a chain of tourist adventure companies that had branches along Florida’s coasts.

  “That it there in the middle?”

  Lenah grabbed the binoculars and put them to her eyes. “Yup. Let me hail him,” Lenah said, but before she could, Guppy must have seen her approaching because the Whaler backed away from the throng of boats and headed her way.

  “Splinter, hate to do this to you again, but I think it’s best you hide in the cabin,” she said.

  “Yes, me lady.” Splinter bowed and headed down the short set of steps that led from the pilothouse to the cabin and small galley.

  Splinter locked the cabin door and sat at the galley table, positioning himself so he could hear everything that was said.

  Static crackled from the radio. “Evenstar this is the Double Zero, do you copy?”

  “10-4 Double Zero.”

  Minutes passed before the Double Zero bumped into the Parker. Guppy was big, and the boat rolled to port when he stepped aboard.

  “How are you, honey? How do you get yourself into these messes?”

  “Just lucky, I guess.”

  “Now if you’d take me up on my offer, you’d never need to worry about any of this stupid shit again,” he said.

  “That’s sweet, but you know me.”

  “People looking for you. Cops even called me. They’re worried about you. They think that nut Splinter has you.”

  “I can trust you, Gup. Splinter has nothing to do with this. He helped me on a charter and I haven’t seen him since.”

  Silence.

  “You think you can forget you saw me?”

  “I think so. You didn’t kill anybody or anything, did you? This pretty face wouldn’t look good in jail doing time for aiding and abetting.”

  Lenah did her school girl chuckle. Splinter hated it. Lenah was one of the toughest people he knew and when she laughed like that his stomach knotted.