Blood Cruise: A Deep Sea Thriller

by Jake Bible

  He hit the button and his prayer was ignored.

  He flew back, colliding with the far wall and the world became a swimming, swirling illusion. Only the sight of Maggie sprawled out on the lifeboat’s floor kept him from passing out. He managed to get to her as the lifeboat sped through the water, thumping and bobbing along until its momentum finally slowed and the emergency vehicle came to a stop.

  “Mags?” Ben asked as he pushed the woman’s blood-matted hair from her face. “Mags?”

  “Yeah,” Maggie whispered, but didn’t open her eyes. “I love you, Benjamin.”

  Then her breathing evened out and Ben knew she was completely unconscious. She probably had a concussion, which meant he needed to keep her awake, but he was struggling to keep his own eyelid open, let alone try to pry hers apart.

  He wrapped an arm around her and was able to scoot her head onto his lap. The lifeboat bobbed and rocked and Ben looked up to see a view of the yacht, far off and smoking, through the small windshield.

  The view was filled with a massive fireball that shot hundreds of feet into the air. The yacht exploded everywhere and Ben ducked instinctively as flaming debris rained down against the lifeboat. He was glad that it was a completely enclosed vessel as fiery shrapnel pelted the outside over and over for several seconds until the sky finally cleared of the falling wreckage.

  Ben’s throat constricted as he thought of what Nick had done for him and Maggie. He choked back tears, not just because he didn’t want to lose control, but because the act of crying brought nothing but agony to the torn and mutilated tear duct in his empty eye socket.

  “Thanks, dude,” he whispered. “You stupid son of a bitch.”

  He leaned his head down, placing his forehead on Maggie’s, and slowly let sleep take him.

  52.

  When Ben woke up, he wasn’t at all surprised to find himself in a hospital bed, the sound of beeping machinery piercing his brain, fueling the excruciating headache that he assumed was the reason he was even awake. He glanced around, but all he saw was a small slit of a window along the top of the wall to his left. There was no cheesy hospital furniture, no faux wood dresser or convertible chair for visitors to sit or lie in.

  Nothing but grey concrete and the constantly beeping machines.

  “You are awake,” a man said as a door opened to Ben’s blindside. “I wasn’t sure or not.”

  Ben rolled his head and cried out then tried to focus on the short, fat man that was carrying a folding chair up to Ben’s bed and setting it down.

  “Yeah, you’ll be hurting for a long time,” the man said as he sat down and offered his hand. “John Jones. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Clow. Or can I call you Ben? Whatever you prefer is fine.”

  Ben only blinked at the man.

  “Yeah, I get that look a lot,” Jones said. “I tell you what, I’m going to make this debriefing as short as possible so you can push that little button by your left hand and make the morphine train pull into the station. It’s good stuff, believe me. I ask a couple questions, you give me a couple answers, to the best of your ability, of course, then you can nod off to Pain Management Land.”

  “Where am I?” Ben asked.

  “That’s not a question I can answer,” Jones responded. He pulled out his phone and set it on the bed next to Ben. “Do you mind if I record this?”

  “Where’s Maggie?” Ben asked.

  “You are full of questions, aren’t you?” Jones chuckled. “None of which I am going to answer. Once we complete the debriefing, then an entire department of threat assessors will go over your answers and decide what you can and cannot know. But, let me warn you now, the stuff you can know will be very vague and very frustrating. The Devil is in the details and unfortunately you do not have clearance to meet the Devil.”

  Jones waited then shook his head.

  “No one ever even cracks a smile at that,” Jones said.

  “I want to talk to Maggie,” Ben said. “I need to know if my girls are okay. I want to talk to a lawyer. I want to get the hell out of here.”

  “But you don’t even know where here is, Mr. Clow,” Jones said. “Leaving here right now would not be in your best interest. The OAS and NCDC are a couple of angry wasps nests and they’d love nothing more than to pluck you off the street and put you somewhere that doesn’t come close to the nice ambience that this room has.”

  Jones waited again and shook his head again.

  “Still no smile?” Jones sighed. “Listen, Mr. Clow, your daughters are completely safe and secure. Their lives haven’t been interrupted at all. As far as they and your ex-wife know, you are still on a happy holiday with your beautiful girlfriend. When we return you to them, which I can assure you we will do, they’ll be informed that the yacht had an accident, it caught fire, and you were the only one to escape alive.”

  “And Maggie,” Ben said. “Maggie escaped alive with me.”

  “Yes, Ms. Rodriguez-Kimura did escape alive, but that won’t be part of the story,” Jones replied. “Not yet, at least. We’ll concern ourselves with your story first then decide whether or not there is a dramatic revelation and a miraculous deep sea rescue of another survivor found floating out in the open ocean. But that is not up to me, so we won’t dwell on it.”

  “Won’t dwell on it,” Ben mumbled and rolled his head back so he could stare up at the ceiling. “Good idea.”

  “I think so,” Jones said. “Now, how about we start from the beginning. Not the very beginning, but when you first stepped onto the Lucky Sucker. Tell me everything you can remember.”

  Ben coughed a sad laugh at the mention of the yacht’s name then took a deep breath and began.

  53.

  A man wobbled precariously on a ladder as he struggled to free the Christmas and holiday decorations from the hooks over the supermarket’s automatic doors. The ladder shook under the man’s weight, which wasn’t exactly in a healthy percentile, and Ben could see the feet starting to slip and then tip.

  “I got you,” Ben said as he grabbed the ladder and steadied it for the man.

  A dagger of pain shot through his head as a slight rush of adrenaline coursed through his system, making his empty eye socket throb and pulse.

  “Thanks, bud,” the heavy man on the ladder said as he looked down at Ben. “You saved my bacon.” He frowned as he saw Ben’s eye patch and heavily bandaged hand. “Oh, Jesus, bud, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to save anyone’s bacon.”

  He let out a loud whistle and a skinny woman with scraggly hair and a distinct hint of meth head came shuffling from her post by the self-check register.

  “Bess can hold the ladder for me,” the heavy man said. “Thanks again, though.”

  “Damn,” meth-head Bess said as she looked Ben up and down. “You a soldier or something? Lose your eye in Afghaniraq?”

  “No,” Ben said. “I lost it playing poker.”

  Ben grabbed onto his shopping cart laden with groceries and wheeled it past the ladder and out of the supermarket before meth-head Bess could recover from her slack-jawed confusion.

  The cart’s front wheel wobbled as Ben navigated through the ubiquitous puddles that filled the supermarket’s parking lot. It was January in Seattle and the never-ending misty rain had fully set in. Nothing but cold, damp, and grey until spring hit.

  He slowed the cart when he reached his minivan. He smacked the back hatch with his good hand and after a couple seconds it popped open, rising automatically at a pace almost as excruciating as the pain in Ben’s head. He managed to get the bags of groceries into the minivan’s cargo area without too much trouble, but he was exhausted when he finally plopped himself into the passenger’s seat.

  “Home, Jeeves,” he muttered to Tanni who was sitting in the driver’s seat, staring at something on her phone.

  “I don’t know who that is,” Tanni said as she tossed her phone onto the dash and started the minivan up. “Where to now?”

  “Just home,” Ben said. “We need to pu
t away the groceries and I need to take a nap.”

  “That’s like the sixth nap this weekend,” Tanni said. “Didn’t the doctors say to let them know if you felt really sluggish? Should you call them?”

  “No,” was all Ben said.

  “Okay. Whatever,” Tanni replied, her face pinched with teenage indignation. “Go ahead and die then, but don’t come bitching to me.”

  “I won’t,” Ben replied.

  He rested his head against the cold glass of his window and looked past the trails of raindrops at the gloomy parking lot. Tanni backed them out then headed for the traffic light at the lot’s entrance. Ben watched the busy shoppers try to stay warm and dry and failing miserably just like everyone else. He couldn’t wait to get his damp clothes off and crawl into a warm bed. That was his favorite pastime, just curling up in bed and letting the world go on without him.

  He knew it wasn’t fair to the girls. They needed him. But after everything that had happened on the yacht, and the zero amount of information he got from that Jones guy before he was released to a normal hospital for the rest of his recovery, Ben just didn’t have it in him to pretend the world was the same as before he’d stepped foot onto a speedboat with Nick and Maggie.

  Maggie…

  Maggie?

  “Stop the van!” Ben shouted as he saw a figure in a hooded rain poncho duck into the bus shelter next to the parking lot’s entrance. “Tanni! Stop!”

  Ben shoved open his door, ignoring the honks from the cars stacking up behind them, and hurried as fast as his body could over to the bus shelter. He reached it and rested a hand against the metal and glass enclosure, his eye blinking over and over as he stared at nothing, at no one. The shelter was empty.

  The honking was joined by angry shouts and Ben slowly backed away from the shelter and turned back to the minivan. Tanni’s eyes were wide with fear and Ben tried to give her an apologetic smile, but he knew she wouldn’t see it that way since anytime he smiled it scrunched up his eye patch, reminding the world he was not a whole man.

  Ben got into the van and pointed at the light that had just turned yellow.

  “Blow it,” he said and Tanni hit the accelerator, hurrying the minivan through the intersection before the traffic light turned red.

  Neither of them said a word on the drive home.

  54.

  The spring sun warmed Ben’s skin as he lay on the plastic lounge chair, his face turned up to the sky, his eye patch off and next to his cold beer.

  May. Early May. The threat of spring rain looming in the distance. But for that moment, the sun shone and Ben soaked it in, the feeling that his life may be moving forward for the first time since…

  Since.

  Everything around him related to that single word. Since. Most of his conversations began with that word. Most of his interactions with neighbors or even his girls began with that word. Damn he hated that word and as he breathed in the clean air, he vowed he would drop it, let it go, never utter the word again.

  The new start he’d been promising his daughters needed to go ahead and start and he felt strong enough for that to happen right then. Too much time wasted, since…

  “Dad?” Norma asked from the sliding patio door.

  They had moved from his old place almost as soon as he could hold a pen to sign the papers. Too many memories. Too many good times that Ben knew had been complete and utter bullshit.

  So he’d bought a cute bungalow, big enough for the girls to have their own rooms and for him to have a space large enough for a bed and a dresser. One bathroom, but he didn’t care. He let the girls dominate it and they were perfectly happy with that.

  Bobbi had tried to insinuate herself back into his life, coddling him, mothering him, doing everything she could to take over his daily affairs while he recuperated. But he’d had enough strength to shut that down almost before it began. Bobbi was not the answer to starting something new. Far from it.

  “Dad?” Norma called again and Ben picked up the emotion in her voice.

  He opened his eye and turned around in the lounge chair.

  “Norma? What’s wrong?” he asked. “Did you cut yourself in the kitchen or…”

  There was no need to finish the sentence. He knew instantly why Norma sounded off. The woman standing in the doorway behind her was the reason.

  “Hi, Benjamin,” Maggie said.

  “Tanni let her in,” Norma said, her voice suddenly protective. “Then she told me to go get you and went back in her room.”

  “I’m sure she did,” Ben said as he slowly got to his feet. “Thanks, sweetie. You can go back inside and watch Netflix or something.”

  “I was drawing,” Norma said before she turned around and squeezed by Maggie.

  “Guess what she was drawing?” Maggie smiled. “An octopus.”

  Ben glared.

  “Too soon?” Maggie asked, her smile dropping away.

  “Never would be too soon,” Ben said. “What are you doing here, Maggie? Or is that actually your name?”

  “It’s my name,” Maggie said. She looked at the lounge chair next to Ben’s. “Can I sit down?”

  “Really?” Ben snapped.

  “I want to explain,” she said. “Everything. Or everything I’m authorized to explain.”

  “Authorized,” Ben replied, spitting the word back at Maggie. “Sure. Sit. Explain everything you’re authorized to.”

  Maggie sat down in the lounge chair then looked at the one Ben stood next to. “Are you going to sit?”

  “Oh, I think I’m going to stand,” Ben said. “What the hell made you think coming here would be a good idea?”

  “You don’t want to see me?” Maggie asked.

  Ben thought about the time at the supermarket and how he’d jumped out of the minivan without a thought. He’d wanted nothing more than to see Maggie right then. But now? With the new life promise he’d made to himself?

  “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “You really messed up my head, Maggie. I don’t know how I feel about you.”

  “I know how I feel about you,” Maggie said. “I love you.”

  Ben laughed.

  “I know that’s hard to believe, but it’s true,” she continued. “It’s why I’m here. I needed to talk to you before tomorrow.”

  “What happens tomorrow?” Ben asked.

  “Tomorrow there will be a quiet announcement of a survivor found at sea by a fishing boat,” Maggie said. “Then I get to come back from the dead officially and start over.”

  “What does that have to do with me?” Ben asked.

  “Everything,” she replied. “If this conversation goes the way I want it to then it’ll be a Canadian fishing boat that finds me just north of Victoria.”

  “If this doesn’t go the way you want?” Ben asked.

  “Then I’m found by an Alaskan fishing boat way up in the Bering Sea,” Maggie said. “Far away from Seattle and far away from you.”

  “Ah,” Ben said. “So you are here to see if I’m going to play the part of the relieved boyfriend and welcome you home or if you’ll just be greeted by Eskimos and bush pilots.”

  “No,” Maggie said. “You don’t have to play a part. My return will be a back page event. A paragraph at the most. No one wants any eyes on me, so things are already in motion to make sure not even a hint of me gets mentioned on social media or in any way that can’t be controlled.”

  “Yeah, you gotta control that flow of information,” Ben said. “That’s what this is all about? Will I talk out of turn if I don’t agree to let you back in my life?”

  “You’ve already been vetted,” Maggie said. “No one thinks you’ll ever tell what really happened. They’ve been monitoring your activity and all of your communications, which I’m sure a smart guy like you already knew.”

  “I assumed as much,” Ben said.

  “You are completely clear,” Maggie said. “As of yesterday, your file has been closed and there isn’t a single person assigned
to watch you.”

  “Yay me,” Ben said. “Free at last.”

  “It’s the same for me, Benjamin,” Maggie said. “As of yesterday, I became an independent person. I work for no one and no one will bother me again as long as I keep to my non-disclosure agreement and don’t say anything stupid.”

  “I have too many comebacks for that one,” Ben said.

  “A joke,” Maggie said. “That’s a start.”

  “No, it’s not,” Ben said. He sighed and pointed at the sliding door. “I think you need to go, Maggie. You wanted an answer? That’s it. There is no way I can do this.”

  “Let me talk first, please?” Maggie asked. “Then you can kick me out. But I want you to have all the facts before you do or say something that can’t ever be taken back.”

  Ben almost pointed at the sliding glass door, but the way the sun hit Maggie’s face, lighting up the hair that fell across his forehead, all the strength he’d been building up just left him. Poof. Gone. He sat down quickly before his legs buckled.

  “Then talk,” Ben said. “After that, you leave.”

  “Okay,” Maggie agreed.

  She wrung her hands together then placed them on her knees.

  “You, me, it was real,” she started and held up a hand immediately as Ben began to protest. “It was. I met you, fell for you, began a relationship with you, and it was completely authentic.”

  “Except for the you being a teacher part,” Ben said.

  “No, that’s real too,” Maggie said. “I have a Masters in education. I also have a few other skills. But I am a teacher. It made a perfect cover for my other job.”

  “Your real job,” Ben said.

  “My other job,” Maggie insisted. “I met you, we were getting along great, I thought I had something that would be separate from my other job, something to keep me grounded and feeling like a person. But that all changed when the connection between you and Nick was discovered.”

  “You found out I had a past that wasn’t so squeaky clean and you decided to use that for your own means,” Ben said. “I get it. If I’d found out some info I could use against another card player then I’d have jumped on it too.”