Off the Deep End

by R. Jayne Revere

  Aaron sighed and clenched his jaw.

  The biting smell of gunpowder and acrid smoke drifted about. Screaming invaders, fear, and blood. The crew lined up for execution on deck. Tears streaking glossy ribbons down her nephew’s cheeks, creases that stole hope from her brother’s face… To be able to snap my fingers and whisk us all away from this hell!

  Alex glared at Shane and looked back to Aaron, the harsh and deadly reality of the situation pressing hard on her. Someone could die here. An overwhelming sense of loss and sorrow swept over her, constricting her heart. “But… but what part of this doesn’t… involve you getting yourself killed?” She sucked in her lip, crossed her arms, and looked down at the deck, blinking back the wetness that stung her eyes.

  “Hey, come on now.” Aaron stood and turned to face her. “Give me some credit here.” Reaching out, he put a finger under her chin and tilted her head back up to him. “They’re not likely to kill me. They still need information. Till they actually get it…?” He offered her a half smile. “This isn’t the first time we’ve done something like this. It’ll work out. Don’t worry about me.”

  Alex stared at him. Just exactly how was this plan supposed to “work out”? Sudden uncontainable emotion overcame her, the consequence of the upcoming gambit solidifying in her mind just how much his surviving this meant to her. How much he meant to her. She stepped forward and grabbed him in a tight hug.

  “Please be careful,” she whispered to him. “It matters.”

  Aaron returned the embrace, startled at just how much comfort her firm hold provided him in the midst of this impossible situation. “Be careful.” When was the last time anyone had said that to him? The urgency those hushed words held as she breathed them against his ear gave him a rush. The warmth of her body, holding him close, her touch imploring him to come out of this safe. He pressed her tight to him and rubbed her back, their recent moments in hiding replaying in his mind. And the method he’d chosen to calm her fears. Shit, really? At least it had worked. Levity always came in handy and for multiple reasons. Being that close to her had affected him for sure, but really it was just her in general. Her soft giggle at his remark. Those petal-soft lips and her deep sigh against his neck. Holy hell. Right then he’d known she’d be fine. Him, however? Emboldened by her reaction, his heightened senses from battle, and for the sudden need to calm his own nerves, he’d continued his mischief, and in his joking way he’d put his affections out there. She was used to his humor. And she hadn’t smacked him.

  She’d melted into his arms. Just like now…

  Nice job, Donovan. You should’ve told her before that you wanted to see her again after this voyage. But now sure the hell wasn’t the time.

  After a moment, he whispered into her hair. “C’mon, you gotta go now.” He resigned to give her one last hard squeeze before releasing her.

  She stepped back, turned, and paused.

  “C’mon!” Shane called in a loud whisper. He shouldered his rifle and motioned for the four to follow him.

  “Alex!” Jimmy called to her. “C’mon!”

  Aaron moved toward the corner. He looked back over his shoulder to find Alex’s eyes on him and gave her a nod. “I’ll see you after.”

  God, that look; he had to make it through this. Back to business, son. Now. He returned his attention to the path ahead of him, took a deep breath, and stepped out.

  No defense, no resistance. A play of submission to the pirates to convince them they had control. Let them punish him and make a scene so their comrades would turn their attention. There was never a guarantee of it going as planned. No assurance of success. Just a judgment call that violent men would enjoy a good torture show… Maybe it was a good thing he’d never discussed anything about after. In this mess he might not make it anyway.

  “I’ll see you after”…if I’m still alive. Fuck…

  “Don’t shoot! I’m coming out!” Aaron called from behind the bulkhead.

  “Show yourself!” a voice ordered. “Now!”

  Aaron emerged slowly, hands up as he stepped into view.

  The pirate commander nodded to a subordinate, and the scruffy man trotted over. With a rough search, he came up with the pistol, one extra magazine, and knife. His menacing smile revealed a sad lack of dental care as he stowed the recovered weapons in his own belt. He grabbed Aaron and shoved him hard over toward his boss and the captive group.

  “Where are the rest?” the commander demanded.

  “I’m it. They’re dead.”

  “I don’t believe you!”

  “Well, believe what you want, it won’t change anything.”

  The chief nodded to his second again.

  The man yanked Aaron’s arms back and zip-tied his wrists. “Down!” he growled into his new prisoner’s ear and kicked the back of one of Aaron’s legs to push him to his knees.

  As Aaron hit the deck, he looked over to the crew and found Mac’s defiant eyes. The discreet, slow turn of Mac’s head said “don’t do this.” Aaron read the concern on the older man’s face and responded with an almost imperceptible, reassuring nod.

  “We will get what we want, or you will pay dearly!” The man in charge moved to stand behind Aaron, pointing a pistol at his head. “What are the coordinates? Now!”

  Aaron shook his head. “What coordinates?”

  Impact from the butt of the weapon sent a jolt of pain slicing through Aaron’s skull. “You know them! You will tell us!”

  Aaron shook his head, driving the stars out of his vision. And so it begins… His ear throbbed from the shock of the blow, and warmth trickled down his cheek.

  He slumped and shrugged his shoulders, groaning out his reply. “Don’t know what to tell you, man. I don’t know any coordinates.”

  Shane moved the small group several hatches back and down to the next level. Emergency lighting cast eerie shadows as they hurried along, shoes scuffling intermittent mouse squeaks on gray-painted steel decking. As they reached the last compartment in that hallway, a walkie crackled to life.

  Shane snatched it from his pocket and hissed into it. “Not now!”

  The others, farther ahead, missed that response. Alex didn’t. Her heart might as well have fallen to her feet, each step now feeling like lead weights were in her sneakers as the meaning behind that short reply hit her. She stopped short and spun to face him.

  A wicked glint crept across his narrowed cerulean gaze. By now the others noticed the two unmoving behind them, and they also paused in inquiry.

  Shane brought up his rifle, motioned toward the last compartment’s hatch. “Get in.”

  “What the…?” Jimmy’s question halted on open lips, and he took a step toward Shane. “Just what the hell’s going on here?”

  “Dad?” Will moved closer to his father and twisted to follow the direction of that demanded question. His brown eyes grew wide as they met with Shane’s frosted ones. “Hey! You’re s’posed to be the good guys!” the young boy shouted.

  He stared at Shane, someone he’d shared laughs and playtime with just a day earlier. Respect drained from his indignant face. Small fists clenched as his glare bored into the turncoat.

  “So sorry, kid.” Shane’s flat tone revealed his lack of compassion. “Now do what you’re told and get in!”

  Alex backed away.

  With the group not reacting quick enough for Shane’s liking, he lunged out and grabbed her arm, pulling her against him. He shouldered his rifle and snatched her pistol from her belt. “Get the hell in that doorway or she’s dead!”

  “Aunt Alex!” Will cried.

  Alex jerked against Shane’s rough grip. Shane thrust the barrel of her gun against her head, and she stopped struggling.

  “You asshole!” she hissed under her breath. “We trusted you!”

  “Yeah, I know. Whatever,” he replied, voice cold and controlled. He tightened his grip on her arm and glared at the others. “Last chance. Get in. Now!”

  Jimmy offered Shane a w
ithering scowl and continued to hold his black look as he steered his son’s shoulders and eased toward the hatch. Shane just inclined his head along with a sick sneer. Reluctantly, Mario stepped through the hatch first, followed by Jimmy shielding Will. The disillusioned small boy still stared daggers through his tears.

  Shane half dragged Alex over. “Shut it,” he ordered, indicating the hatch.

  How could you! Furious at him for his treachery and at herself for feeling so helpless, Alex eyed him like she would a filthy toilet and reached out to close the hatch. Had she been correct in questioning her brother’s hiring of this bunch? It broke her heart to think that Les or Aaron could be involved in such treason. The constriction in her chest and the lump now clogging her throat threatened to choke her. Praying that the two were not in collusion with Shane’s duplicitous scheme, her fingers had barely touched the cold steel when there was a sudden shriek from within.

  A cacophony of reports exploded the terse silence, and flashes strobed the shadowed oval. Mario burst from the room, weapon snapping off rapid fire. He launched himself at Shane.

  Shane jerked away, nearly dragging Alex off her feet again as a round sprayed blood from his thick bicep. He cursed and spun.

  For the unfortunate cook, the mercenary’s reflexes proved too fast. A sidestep and then a single shot dropped the poor man in a heap to skid past Shane’s feet. His head thudded to the deck, and the pistol bounced from his now lifeless fist to clatter across the passageway like an unlucky die.

  Will’s shrill scream echoed from beyond the hatch.

  A cold sweat encased Alex at the shock of their friend’s undue demise. Mario, no! Oh God! And what an awful thing for her poor little nephew to see! Her horrified stare came to rest on their captor. Gloating twisted his lips into a vile bow, and he loosened his grip on her arm, too engrossed in his own sick world.

  You absolute sonofabitch! Alex broke free and dove for Mario’s dropped gun. Her fingertips made the grip just as the weight of Shane’s boot crashed into her side. She slammed into the adjacent wall.

  He scooped the pistol up himself, tucked it into his own belt, and stepped forward to slam the hatch shut.

  Alex pulled herself to hands and knees. Rising bile from both the blow to her body and the ugliness at hand tickled at the back of her tongue. She rubbed at a growing bump on the side of her head. Her left shoulder ached and her right side throbbed. Spots and dullness dissipated and her eyes regained focus as Shane grabbed her arm again, hauled her to her feet, and pushed her stumbling ahead of him.

  “You’re comin’ with me. Back up top, sweetheart.” Shane sneered. “Got a nice little show for ya up there.”

  “Oh God, they’re gonna kill him!”

  Shane had returned Alex to the main foredeck where the pirates held Aaron and the others. The position he confined her in kept them mostly hidden in the shadow of a bulkhead while giving her a clear view of the actions on deck.

  Interrogating. Taking a bit too much pleasure in inflicting pain. Most of the attention was focused on Aaron at present. Just as he’d told her would happen. On his knees, hands secured behind his back, he turned toward her. Bruising now marred the line of his jaw. A trickle of bright crimson snaked down his left cheek from matted hair just above his ear.

  Planned or no, this was not what she’d expected, and the sight nearly brought her to tears. Locked in Shane’s viselike grip, there was nothing she could do. Another sick chill needled her skin.

  You fucking pricks! Leave him alone! Every breath she took burned like fire in her lungs, and her stomach twisted into knots.

  A disheveled little man paced in front of Aaron. The stunted vermin alternated between yelling and short, quacking guffaws, occasionally providing a taunting jab to Aaron’s ribs or shoulders with the barrel of the rifle he waved wildly in one hand. A pistol was clutched tight in his other.

  Where the hell was Les, and why didn’t he do something?

  More screaming from the rat. Aaron remained motionless, head down, just keeping his balance as he received a hard boot to his back. The pirate commander positioned behind Aaron leveled his gun at his captive’s head.

  Horror gripped Alex, scrambling her senses. She couldn’t make out the hateful words, but that deep baritone voice spewed pure rage. The small scruffy one who stood in front of Aaron let out a cackling laugh.

  “That’s the idea, sweetheart.” Shane’s menacing words were edged with excitement, his sour whisper a grating abuse in her ear. He tightened his clasp on her arm, twisting until it hurt. “It’s part of the bargain. Guess you made the wrong choice.”

  Alex gave him no satisfaction from any reply. It would be impossible to find words to counter the nightmarish hell of events playing out in front of her. The iron grip on her arm grew so tight she felt he would break it, and she couldn’t quite stifle a whimper.

  At that, Shane let out an evil giggle and his restraint eased a bit.

  Right then, three successive thunks preceded respective sonic cracks. The two captors with Aaron glanced up. Faint shouting drifted from the other vessel. Another thunk-crack. Silence.

  Clearly unable to determine the origin of presumed shots, the commander returned his attention to Aaron. Oh God! What if he tortured him? Alex hiccupped a sob. What if he killed him, thinking it would get the others to talk?

  The commander licked curled lips, displaying a toothy grin as he lined up his kill shot again.

  Head still bowed, Aaron felt the whiz above his skull blow an icy kiss on the back of his neck. A crunching, aqueous thwack came from behind him, like a melon dropped from a high-rise, followed by the sharp crack of pistol fire, and the bullet meant for him drove into the deck next to his knee.

  Fine red mist speckled the floorboards. Ringing in his ears from his captor’s missed shot muted the thump at his back. Aaron risked a peek up to see the man in front of him gasp, eyes dilated and mouth agape at having witnessed the disintegration of his commander’s chest.

  ’Bout damn time, Les…

  Aaron dropped to his side and kicked out. A successful aim landed a crushing blow to the forward man’s knee, and the bones crunched and separated under his boot.

  The little man screeched as he slammed down, impact with deck boards bouncing both pistol and rifle from his fists. He clutched at his ruined joint, screaming and cursing Aaron all the while. Eyes locked on the semiauto, the pirate let go of his knee with a howl and scrabbled to close the short distance between them to recover the fallen handgun.

  Just as the pirate’s fingertips tickled the grip, Aaron booted it out of reach. The scrawny man swore and drew a fist at him. Aaron rolled closer. The pirate’s wild punch missed any solid contact, and Aaron swung his legs, locking them around the cur’s head and neck.

  Trapped in the crush of contracting thighs, the diminutive hijacker flailed arms and legs in an attempt at escape, grasping and clawing at both decking and his captor’s pants as he squirmed to regain his freedom. A tight grimace contorted the swinelike face, and a last rasping squeal escaped through bared teeth.

  Aaron arched his back, twisted, and squeezed until there was a loud pop. The pirate went limp.

  Releasing his leghold, Aaron spun and scooted close. He snatched his knife from the fallen scum’s waistband. Behind his back he worked it up his wrist. The sliced zip tie flopped to the floor, and he slammed his blade back home in his boot. Aaron flipped over to crouching and grabbed the pistol off the deck. His gaze darted over his surroundings, a quick assessment of his new situation.

  “Well, well, well… Now it’s a party!” Venomous sarcasm from a familiar voice. Shane moved out into better view, hauling Alex with him, knife at her neck. “Nice show!” he spat out. He barked orders at the three pirates guarding the remaining crew members. “Get them outta here! Lock ’em up below somewhere!”

  The trio fidgeted but did as instructed and began herding the group off the deck. A thunk-crack and the one bringing up the rear slumped. Several of the captured
crew took advantage and subdued their two remaining captors, commandeering weapons.

  “Care Bear, you get your ass down here right now, or you’re gonna lose two more!” Shane shouted.

  Focus locked on Shane and Alex, Aaron clenched his jaw tight. More? What the hell had gone on? He blocked out hurtful images before they could take hold. Not now. Get this done. And Alex? The sight of her trapped in the hold of a madman didn’t help his frame of mind.

  Purposefully positioning Alex between himself and Aaron as a shield, Shane walked her farther into the open.

  Aaron kept his aim on Shane, though he had no clear shot. He waved off the crew, hoping they wouldn’t try to intervene, wouldn’t cause Shane to act out in haste. They stopped and backed away, headed below, their restrained captors in tow.

  Knowing Shane’s methods and skill, having him as an opponent rather than an ally definitely altered the equation. Another man down, a new enemy. Why the hell didn’t I see this coming sooner? Shane had always been a little off, but Aaron had never thought the man would flip like this.

  Treading slowly and cautiously, Aaron eased around Shane and Alex. “Bear, you got this?” he called out. Nothing. “Les?”

  A sudden scuffle and several small-arms shots sounded from the bridge area. Still no reply from anyone.

  “Shit,” Aaron murmured under his breath. From bad to worse to hell. His mind raced in overdrive to come up with a solution to this mess.

  “I think ol’ Care Bear might have gotten himself in a pickle.” Shane offered an exaggerated chortle, then turned severe. “And if you want this little chicky and the rest of ’em to live, you’ll drop your weapon and give up. Right now!”

  “You know that’s not gonna happen,” Aaron replied, keeping his voice calm and resolute. “Think about it, man. You’re outnumbered now. No way you make it out.”

  Shane shrugged. “Maybe I don’t make it, maybe I do.” He shifted his stance so Aaron could better see the knife his left hand held pressed against Alex’s neck. “But I can sure as hell cause you some serious shit in the process. I know how you can’t stand to lose any oh-so-precious people under your watch,” he snarled. “It’s your worst fear. That’ll cause you more pain than anything I can do to you. But still…” He shrugged again, took the pistol from his belt, and pointed it at Aaron. “This is my show. I decide the entertainment value. You’ll drop that weapon. And you’ll do it now!”