by Alan Spencer
"Illegal chemical dumping," Lords said. "Who knows what else? It's impossible, because Lee never reported back. We've got little to go on here."
"Whatever information Lee happened upon before traveling out there, it was probably given by the enemy," Berkley said. "We were stupid to look into the matter without more information first. Lee's so half-cocked about taking down the big offenders, he'll jump into the fire without thinking twice. The Green Project has experienced death threats before, but this, this is the most dangerous situation we've ever been put in. The enemy has the drop on us. They hold every advantage. They know we're coming. We have no idea who they are, or how many people we'll be facing. Your father has put us in a very bad position, Susan."
"Nobody could've predicted this," Susan argued. "Lee was only going to study the island, see if the facts were true, and come right back. He didn't intend—"
"We know nothing about nothing," Berkley bickered. "It's because of Lee's hasty actions that we could all be dead in a matter of hours. Thanks, Lee, for putting my life on the line. Damn him."
"Calm down," Pierce insisted. "We can't turn on each other. Not now. Not when we need each other the most."
Staff agreed with Pierce. "I've known Lee a long time. He wouldn't put us in danger on purpose. This was going to happen sooner or later. These people have been targeting us for awhile now. Whatever company they are, they've had our number for quite some time."
Berkley sneered. "I still don't like it. This is all Lee's fault. Goddamn bastard."
Susan and Lords weren't sure what to say next.
Pierce had to do something to take control of the situation. Experienced or not, they were his only allies, and he couldn't have them at each other's throats.
"Stop pointing fingers. This is happening right now. People are out to kill you. Let that sink in a moment. You can't rest until these people are taken out, so no matter whose fault it is, this is our situation. Period."
"Who the fuck are you anyway?" Berkley demanded. "Why should we take orders from you? You're nothing more than a washed up private investigator. God, when Susan spotted you, you were stinking drunk, and you looked like sunbaked shit. Why listen to you? You're a nobody."
"You should listen to me, because I'm the only one even close to qualified to save Lee and your asses."
"You're a fucking joke, you vodka smelling--"
Berkley reached out to grab Pierce by the collar, when Pierce tripped him with a leg sweep, twisted his right arm behind his back, and let Berkley wail in pain for a minute.
"Calm down," Pierce growled. "I could break your arm off, and shove it up your ass. If you want out of this mission, then go ahead, jump off this boat, and swim your way back home. Whoever's fault this is, you're in the enemy's crosshairs whether you like it or not. The police can't help you. You're on your own. I'm the only one who gives a damn about your lives that doesn't have to."
Staff was begging Pierce to let Berkley go. "Please, he didn't mean anything. He's scared like the rest of us, that's all."
Pierce released Berkley's arm.
Berkley rotated his arm to make sure it wasn't broken. "Why are you with us then? You don't have to be here, and this has nothing to do with you."
"I'm here because I helped the Branch family before, and they paid well for my services. And right now, I'm a broke ass. We find Lee, I get paid."
Pierce lied about his reasons. Everybody appeared to accept his line of thinking, and that was good enough. Anything was an improvement over, 'I saw the ghost of my dead girlfriend, you see, and she told me to help you people. I was this close to walking into the ocean and drowning myself, so it's good you came along when you did. Thanks, everybody.'
Berkley didn't want to be near Pierce anymore. Everybody except for Susan walked to the other side of the pontoon boat.
Susan was apologetic. "Sorry about Berkley, he's high strung. We've been at each other's throats for a while now. We don't know what we're doing, and we're just trying to stay alive, I guess."
"Death is everywhere," Pierce said, "and it'll keep on coming. The people who have dismantled your organization are well-versed in the art of killing. Whatever secrets they're trying to keep, they'll stop at nothing to keep it hush hush. We have to play it smart from here on out, or else the next place you sleep will be in a body bag."
Susan gasped in shock, and abruptly joined her group on the other side of the boat.
"You're making friends fast," Shark said. "What a team you people make, a bunch of environmentalists with their thumbs stuck up their green asses. You're the only one who can complete this mission. The rest of these guys are useless."
"Fuck off. Not now."
Shark took the hint.
Pierce was alone with his thoughts. He stared out at the vast expanse of bright blue ocean. Somewhere out there was the secret island. It was obvious to Pierce this was a trap. The enemy brought Lee out to the island, and now, the enemy had extended their invitation to the rest of The Green Project's key members.
Shark was right about one thing, Pierce thought. He was the only one who was qualified to complete this mission.
Making Waves
The boat was six hours into its journey. Skeeter was leaning against the guardrail, studying the waters with Pierce. "So, when are you going to bang Susan?"
"I'm not going to bang her."
"You'd be entitled. You save her dad, you save her, I would say a good banging for you is in order; it's common courtesy. You save the day, you get at least one fuck out of it. And she has to be into it."
"I'm more worried about what's waiting for us on that island, rather than a piece of ass," Pierce snipped. "The others are right. We could be walking right into a trap. If it's a big company dumping waste illegally, I'm sure they have the numbers to easily overtake us."
"It's an advantage, but so is having only a few people. You can sneak around easier. Infiltrate their operation. As long as you don't stop to smell the roses, you guys will be fine."
"What will I do after this is over?" Pierce asked Skeeter. "I mean, I can't see myself slipping back into my old life, working as a private investigator."
"Maybe you should explore new career options. Get out there, and meet new people."
"I'll never meet another Angel."
"People lose their significant others all the time, and move on. Somehow, life goes on. Do you believe in serendipity?"
"The fuck kind of a question is that?"
Skeeter was serious. "I believe there's more than one person out there you can fall in love with at any given time. There was maybe half a dozen chicks I could've fallen in love with out there. It's timing, chance, and opportunity that allows you to pick that one person to fall in love with. What I'm trying to say is there are more women to fall in love with out there. You have to open up your mind, and not compare notes against Angel. Get me? Open your mind."
"How poetic, Skeeter. I'm sure you're full of life advice, now that you're dead."
"Or just get laid, pal. That kind of relief can move mountains."
Berkley approached Pierce. The man's gait was cautious. "Look, we got off to a bad start. This situation is just so much to take on. I teach biology to college students, and fight for the environment. I never imagined myself toting guns, and facing machete-wielding kidnappers. This is all new to me."
"Nobody imagines themselves in these situations," Pierce said. "You and your group are very brave."
"Thank you for helping us."
Berkley wasn't keen on talking much longer, so he returned to the steering wheel. Everybody else seemed cautious of Pierce, and Susan didn't like his comment about winding up in a body bag. His tact could use some re-tooling, Pierce decided.
More hours passed. Pierce wasn't sure how much longer it would be until the island was visible. The group ate sandwiches from a cooler, and conversation was at a minimal. Everybody was nervous, so Pierce kept his mouth shut. The group needed time to themselves, and he'd give it to the
m.
It was four in the morning when the pontoon boat's lights hit a solid wall of fog. The fog was so dense, visibility was downgraded to a matter of feet. Staff said they were forty-five minutes from arriving at the island.
Before the group could react to the fog, machine gun fire spattered from the distance. Bullets tore up the pontoon boat from four directions. Pierce could see the brief orange flashes in the near distance, but before he could dig into his duffel bag and return fire, something punched him in the back. With the force of high-speed whiplash, Pierce was thrown overboard, and crashed into the water.
Machine gunfire rattled with a dull muffled effect from being underwater. Pierce could only use one arm to paddle, and the water was so dark, he couldn't tell if he was swimming to the surface, or down deeper into the suffocating abyss.
Everything in Pierce's head was growing tighter and tighter. The need to breathe was so compelling, he imagined his skull bursting, and his lungs breaking out of his chest. Fighting the urgency for air, Pierce could overhear gunfire blasting from all directions. Abrupt and piercing screams were cut short; maybe cut dead.
Pierce wasn't sure how to fight his way back to the surface. He knew one of those bullets had hit him. The question was where was he hit, and could he stop the bleeding? Paddling his good arm was doing little to help his situation. He kicked out his legs, and kept fighting to survive.
When his face hit the surface, he swallowed up air so hard he almost choked on it. Ocean surrounded him. There was no boat or weapons being fired, or any signs of life or land.
Pierce was stranded.
What a big help he'd been to Susan, he thought. The most experienced of the team was the first to go down. He should've kept his eyes open for threats. He'd been careless.
They came out of the fog, he reasoned. Nobody would've seen them coming. Everything happened so fast, Pierce was still piecing the scene together.
Pierce struggled to stay afloat. When he used his right arm, jolts of white-hot pain threatened to sink him right down to the bottom of the ocean. Exhaustion was starting to set in as well, and he was already weak from blood loss.
Don't let yourself go, he kept thinking. You stop swimming, you die.
Maybe he was going to die as he intended the other night. Instead of a walk into the ocean, he'd take a deep plunge, and never be heard of again.
Pierce wasn't going to last much longer. He kept sinking down, and having to force his way back up to the surface. How many more times could he do that before he'd fall below the waterline for good?
Adrift
Pierce thought he had to be dead by now. Would he haunt some poor fool's thoughts like his mercenary friends did his own? Maybe ghosts only lived in your mind, Pierce thought. He imagined the most eccentric people, and how they probably lived like socialite kings in their own minds. They dined with royalty, slept with the sexiest people, and accomplished world-shattering feats. All in the mind, Pierce kept thinking. His friends were alive only in his mind. He was truly alone in the living world.
Something jostled his body hard, and disturbed his thoughts. He opened his eyes. Bright morning sunlight shined down on him. Pierce's mind was slow to react. He was laying against a hard wooden surface, and somehow, he ended up back on Susan's pontoon boat. The boat itself was banked against several boulder-sized rocks. The distance was obscured by fog. Even the sunlight couldn't diminish its effect, and how it blinded the horizon.
Pierce was too weak to get up. Soft breezes rifled tree branches behind him. He couldn't think clearly enough to jog his memory to what had brought him to this point.
A friendly voice called out to Pierce. "Hey, you in the boat! Are you okay down there?"
Pierce struggled to get up. He had a hole in his left shoulder. He checked his back by touching a gummy exit hole. The bullet had gone right through him, and the wound wasn't bleeding. Lucky for him, Pierce thought. He could've bled out while unconscious.
He remained disoriented while two hands picked him up, and helped him to his feet.
"Boy, oh boy, friend, you sure wrecked your ride. Looks like your boat took some bullets. You're lucky to be alive." Under his breath, "Sort of."
"Where am I?"
"Relax, friend. You're not ready to carry yourself. I could tell you everything you wanted to hear, but you're barely conscious. I still see the stars twinkling in your eyes. Let me take you to safety. It's not safe for anyone out here if you're on foot. Plus, you've been bleeding. They can smell blood from miles away, and I'm not just talking about the cannibals."
"The what?"
"Never mind that. We should get moving."
Pierce was dizzy, and couldn't focus on the man helping him over the bank of jagged rocks.
"I've got a vehicle on top of the hill. I'll take you to base where we can sort you out. They'll have lots of questions for you; then you'll probably wish you were dead. What they'll do to you...boy, oh boy."
Shark's voice, "Wake up, Pierce!"
Skeeter's: "You're a dead man if you let this guy help you."
Hard Case: "Take his machine gun. He's armed!"
Pierce's vision cleared up. He wasn't running on full strength until he looked up at the man helping him over the rocks. The stranger wore a dark blue painter's suit with a badge at the breast. The badge was an orange biohazard symbol. The other breast pocket had the name "Willy" embroidered on it. When the man's eyes turned to meet Pierce's stare, the left eyeball slithered out of the socket. The orb dangled three inches down by a thin strand of pink orbital tissue. The eye smacked the side of Willy's nose, then it bobbed in place. Neon green ooze burbled from Willy's open socket.
Willy dropped Pierce onto the ground, and tried to stuff his loose eyeball back into the vacant hole in his head. "Damn it, I hate it when that happens! Fuckfuckfuck! I just can't keep my eyes in my head these days. I've already lost half my goddamn teeth and one testicle working on this damn island. By the time I retire, what's left of me you could stuff into a plastic bag."
Words couldn't represent Pierce's shock.
His fist did the talking for him.
Surging forward like a rocket, Pierce unleashed a thundering punch that sent the strange man reeling backwards. Willy didn't know what hit him, and he tumbled down a bed of rocks like a piece of garbage. The strange man was cursing and grunting in pain all the way down to his abrupt stop near the ocean's edge.
Shark shouted, "Run, you idiot! Go man, go!"
Pierce bolted from the scene. When he had to stop to catch his breath, he was standing on the outskirts of a jungle, unsure of his next move. The air was so sticky and heavy with tropical heat; every breath he took in felt like his head was covered with a thick blanket. He had to move fast before Willy got back up and charged after him.
"Did you see his eyeball?" Skeeter was freaking out. "It just fell out of his head! And the asshole tried to put it back in. What the fuck!"
"Forget that shit," Hard Case said. "Beat your feet! Don't even try to fight this jacked up asshole!"
A staccato burst of gunfire tore up the ground around Pierce's feet. Willy, Uzi barking in tow, was charging up the hill, and this time, he didn't give a good Goddamn about his dangling eyeball.
Willy's mouth was foamy with rage. "Stay where you're at! I'll shred you with this Uzi! You have questions to answer!"
Pierce didn't have the option to run. He had his hands up to indicate surrender when the great screeching roar of a mega bird unleashed its deafening shriek. A fast moving shadow eclipsed him. Before Pierce could identify the flying creature that was most definitely not a bird, jagged talons dug into Pierce's back. He was hoisted up into the air, and flying high.
Willy was waving his Uzi in the air and cheering. "Yeah! Eat him up! That's what you get, you motherfucking tree huggin' douche bag! Go save the environment in hell!"
Pierce had a high elevation view of the island. Fog surrounded the landmass. He couldn't see anything out beyond the perimeter of the island. Th
e boat must've idled through miles and miles of fog. This island's destiny was to be a well-kept secret. Pierce didn't feel so special being one of the few to find this hidden landmass.
It wasn't long before Pierce knew what had lifted him up into the air. He had straight A's in all of his science classes, even at the university level. He could easily identify the beast that was carrying him so far up in the sky. If the damn thing dropped him, he'd be pulverized by the fall. The elongated bird-like head was fleshed by grayish reptilian skin. The beak itself was narrow and long, and could pierce through its enemies with a powerful neck's thrust. The wings, which were a brilliant burst of bright red color, kept swooshing at the air, propelling them as fast as a single engine plane.
This can't be right.
I'm going insane.
I'm not only seeing my dead mercenary friends.
Now I'm seeing pterodactyls!
The pterodactyl had Pierce clutched in one hand, and he dangled helplessly. He could only imagine where this dinosaur beast would take him to. Maybe a nest, or a place where more pterodactyl friends could dissect him alive with their razor sharp beaks, and enjoy a nice spread of human meat.
Processing his situation was impossible. He watched the treetops of jungle come and go. He glimpsed an electric fence that stood at least thirty feet high. Beyond that barbed wire perimeter were numerous networks of buildings made of white brick, standing only two stories high. He imagined a lot of the structure rooted many levels underground. There was more to this island than scary dinosaurs and men who couldn't keep their eyeballs in their heads.
What Pierce saw for two seconds at the entrance to one of the buildings released a surge of adrenaline so potent, he dared to fight back against his predicament.
Susan was being forced into one of the buildings by a dozen of the blue outfitted goons like Willy. He could only imagine what they'd do to her, being the daughter of Lee Branch. Willy spouted his hatred for "tree huggers" only moments ago, and the Branch family was the prime example of tree hugging.
