Caught Dead (The Journals of Octavia Hollows #3)

by Stacey Rourke

  “No worries, my friend. Life at sea is not for everyone.” Load successfully brought up, Drew locked the pully into place. “It does seem to agree with your piglet, though.”

  That was a piggy squealing fact.

  Every time the boat rocked in one direction, Bacon would dash the opposite way. With a chorus of merry snorts, he would let the motion of the waves slide him back across the deck.

  “Lucky him.” My head lolled back, smacking against the side of the ship with a muted thump. “What about Mark? How was he with this?”

  A sad smile tugged at the corners of Drew’s mouth. “Mark… was a salty sea dog to the bone. There are some people who are born to be on the water, always chasing that horizon. Mark was one of them. On land, his life was a big ole mess. Wife messing around, him messing around, the bank threatening to repossess his house and truck. Whole thing was a shit-show. But out on the water, all of that faded away. Here, he found… peace. The guy was a true seaman.”

  “If I didn’t feel like boot-stomped dog crap, I totally would have snorted at the word semen.”

  Drew cast a sideways glance my way and rolled his eyes. “What are you, twelve?”

  “Sometimes.” I dry heaved as the ship capped another rolling wave. “So, the guy’s life was a mess. Do you think he would take any kind of drastic measures to fix it?”

  “What, like a mob loan or something?” Reaching into a cubby, Drew unfurled another net and secured it to the next pully.

  Actually, I was thinking of the Jinn I ran into in Vegas. He was easy enough to defeat, his undoing as simple as a wish. I suppose it was lazy sleuthing to hope for the same beastie twice.

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  Releasing the pully, he guided the rope hand-over-hand to lower the net into the water. “Nah, far as I can figure, he was ready to let the bank take everything and walk. Kept rambling on about a fresh start.”

  Despite my fog of nausea, a shiver of unease prickled down my spine. “A fresh start? You don’t think he was going to hurt his wife in some way, do you?”

  Grabbing the edge, Drew peered into the water to make sure the net landed right. “I learned long ago not to assume I understood the motives of others. Still, I don’t think that was it. The week before he died, he started talking about some woman he met. I never got her name. Didn’t ask, didn’t care. But, I know that every night, when the boat docked, he would clean himself up and wait for her on the pier.” Mouth sinking into a frown, he shook his head. “Goes to show you what can happen when you allow the entirety of your happiness to rely on others.”

  “Are all fishermen so jaded?” I ventured.

  Chin tilting in my direction, he lifted one brow in question. “Are all deckhands so green?”

  As if to further his point, the ship lurched, earning yet another urp I had to hide behind my hand. “Touché.”

  Chapter five

  “How do people in the movies make this look so easy?” Spinning in a circle, I tried to line up the end of my sword with the hole of the sheath strapped on my back. “Do they load the damned thing before putting it on? That seems impractical for any kind of actual fight situation.”

  The tip of my sword caught on the side of the rim and slid inside in a happy accident.

  “Hey! I got it!” I chirped, glancing at Bacon to celebrate my small victory.

  He congratulated me by flopping onto his side under one of the pier’s post lights and farting. Which, by his standards, was like, the highest level of compliment.

  The sun had just bowed its head for the day, making it the exact time Drew claimed Mark would scamper off to meet his new hottie.

  Moving past my momentary win, I had no choice but to spin in the opposite direction in hopes of stumbling into the same kind of dumb luck with my other sword. “I mean, I doubt I’m going to need these. Even so, remember that badass-looking chick I bumped into in Seattle when I was chasing after you? No one would dare mess with her. That’s the kind of façade I want to present when this mystery woman shows up. I want her pants-wetting afraid not to spill her guts about everything. Whoa…” Coming to an abrupt stop, I held out one hand to steady myself until the world stopped whirling around like a dizzying carnival ride. “Speaking of spilling guts, I may throw up a little bit.”

  The darkness itself seemed to answer, a high-pitched shriek slicing through the settling hush of night. Eyes bulging, my head snapped up in the direction of the sound. Thunder clapped overhead, vicious claws of lightning lashing through heavy clouds. Their brief flash of light illuminated a pair of enormous wings that beat against the air, casting an ominous shadow over the dimly lit pier.

  While the point of my blade had somehow managed to find its way within the leather folds of its sheath, I kept my hand squeezed tight around the hilt in blind panic.

  Another crackling vein of lightning revealed a hulking beast seemingly formed from my most ghoulish nightmares. Savage claws were curled in flesh-shredding threat, while tentacles rolled and writhed from the lower half of a swollen, monstrous face.

  Filling my lungs, I exhaled through puffed cheeks. “Welp, we have accomplished pants-wetting fear. Totally not the way I was hoping for, though.”

  Scrambling to his feet, Bacon dashed behind a post to hide.

  Readjusting my grip on my sword, I assumed a wide-legged stance. “If this is the gal dearly departed Mark was meeting up with, I think I understand why things with his wife never would have worked out. Talk about unachievable body images.”

  The beast swooped overhead in a final loop before landing not ten feet away from me with a heavy thump that shook the weathered planks of the pier.

  I let my blade hiss a little further from its sheath, but still didn’t expose it. I equated it to coming face-to-face with a Silverback gorilla. I didn’t want to do anything that could be perceived as a threat, out of fear the creature would rip my jaw off and beat me to death with it. Frozen in fear, I swallowed hard and prayed the yellow-eyed creature towering over me would somehow confuse me with a lamp post.

  Bacon—that sweet little idiot—had other ideas. Ears tucked flat to his skull, he charged straight for the beast like a wild boar. Hooves clapping over the squeaky pier boards, he squealed his piggy battle cry to the heavens.

  “Bacon! No! Bacon, sit! That thing will make you its cocktail frank, you curly-tailed moron!”

  Warrior swine couldn’t be slowed or stopped.

  Filling my lungs to capacity, I freed one blade and held it at the ready by my side. The bitter truth was if that thing harmed one tuft of Bacon’s soft little peach fuzz, I would unleash a bloody rampage all my own. By which, of course, I mean I would die in a gory slasher-movie way, trying to avenge my pig.

  Head lowered, Bacon was coming in hot toward his target.

  My heart launched into my throat as the monster took one wide stride forward and caught Bacon in its palm. Its talons curled into his sides, its elbow bent to cradle my suddenly stone-still pig in a football hold.

  Bacon’s beady little eyes bugged in their sockets, his snout twitching in terror.

  The creature’s tentacles rolled around Bacon’s body, tickling his tail, brushing his ears, cradling his face, and flopping over his belly. My favorite pork rind was completely at the beast’s mercy. Which meant it fell to me to somehow save his dumb ass.

  How I was going to do that, I had no friggin’ clue.

  Cradling Bacon in its arms like a doting new mother, the winged being raised him closer to its face to brush cheeks with the confused swine.

  “Bacon, stay very, very still,” I muttered through my teeth.

  Bacon emitted a noise I’d never heard from him before. I can only describe it as the plaintive merp of realizing he had made a horrible mistake.

  Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I fought against basic self-preservation and dropped my sword fully in its sheath.

  “Hey there… guy,” I ventured, at a complete loss of how one properly addresses
a giant monster. “You’re holding,” I pantomimed rocking a baby, “my friend. Please don’t eat,” I opened and closed my mouth to imitate chomping, “my friend.” I finished off with a point in Bacon’s direction.

  The sea monster sucked in a shocked gasp, its body pivoting away from me as if to shield Bacon from my attack.

  “Oh, no, no, no!” I waved my hands in front of me. “I,” thumb jabbed at myself, “don’t,” adamant shake of the head, “want to eat,” back to chompy-chompy, “him.” Another point at Bacon. “He’s my friend.” I curled my hands into a heart over my chest.

  The creature exhaled, its shoulders sagging with relief.

  “I just wanted to make sure you,” I jammed a finger of accusation toward the hulking monstrosity—because that was always a good idea, “didn’t eat,” chompy-chompy, “him.”

  A high-pitched screech seeped from the tentacles of the beast as it gazed down lovingly at my petrified pig. One final squeeze of endearment, then it lowered Bacon to the deck boards. Its giant claws hovered at Bacon’s sides, waiting patiently for him to gain his footing before pulling away.

  Freedom in sight, Bacon bolted straight for me. He hid behind my leg, traumatized and trembling. The beast didn’t give chase, but plucked a strand of sea weed off its shoulder and began merrily gnawing on it.

  “You’re an herbivore,” I announced with audible delight. “I saw this playing out in a very different way.”

  “The noise came from over there!” From the shoreline, blocked by the line of tied-up boats, a gruff voice called out. “Down by the pier, go!”

  “Shit!” What the creature was, or where it came from, I had no idea. What I did know was that no good would come of a random fisherman stumbling upon it. Spinning in a tight circle, I located a black tarp thrown over the dingy of a nearby fishing boat and tugged it free. Rising up on tiptoe, I flung it over the creature’s head and shoulders. That did not help the fact that it was a building-sized beast far larger than even the most record-breaking humans. Bending my knees, I bobbed up and down. “Can you do this? Crouch down a little?”

  The beast’s head cocked. Tentacles curling, it tried to imitate the act—in a laughable scene I promised myself I could crack up over later if we got out of this. In a crouch, it was about two feet shorter, which landed it way closer to passable as a human.

  “Good! Great job!” Cautiously reaching up, I tugged the edge of the tarp further over its head like a hoodie, shielding it in shadows. The creature winced at my touch, but made no attempt to pull away.

  “Come on! Over there! I think I see movement!” The shouts grew louder, accompanied by heavy footfalls in the sand pounding closer.

  Crouching down, I clicked Bacon’s leash onto his harness and wrapped it around my hand twice.

  “Now,” I instructed, keeping my own knees bent in example. “We just need to stay low and keep you hidden under that tarp. My motel room is right across the street. Think of this as a hella good quad burner. Perfect that apple-bottom, my calamari-faced friend.”

  The creature’s yellow-slit eyes blinked in my direction, oblivious to the meaning of the words tumbling from my mouth.

  “Never mind, not important. Let’s just get moving.” With one hand on the crinkling plastic tarp draped over its back, I ushered it toward safety. “Low rider, passes as a human. Low rider, won’t leave them assumin’,” I sang in an off-beat rendition of the song of the same name. “Ba-ba-ba-ba-bum-not a sea monster.”

  Maintaining that awkward stance, we shuffled along.

  I held tight to the tarp cloaking the beast in darkness, bristling as two men ran straight toward us. Feeling a rush of heat fill my face, I forced a tight smile and jerked my chin in their direction. “Beer and selfies don’t mix. My friend fell right overboard.”

  “Get the hell out of the way,” the shorter of the two men grunted, barely glancing in our direction.

  Eyebrows raised in disbelief, I locked my arm tighter around the monster’s mid-section and shuffled on. “Ba-ba-ba-ba-bum-I can’t believe that worked.”

  Chapter Six

  “Okay. Okay. Oh-kay.” No matter how many times I said it, with varying inflections, it didn’t make the situation any better. Metaphorically speaking, I was in a canoe with a hole in the bottom, paddling my way up shit creek.

  The tentacled creature sat huddled in the corner of my motel room, its entire body expanding and contracting in anxious heaves. Its giant clawed hands were pressed to the walls on either side of it, as if preventing them from closing in. If I had to guess, it was suffering from whatever the opposite of seasickness was.

  “Any suggestions on how to proceed from here would be greatly appreciated.” Pacing at the foot of the bed, I glanced to the little piggy who went weeee-weeee-weeee right into the sea monster’s grasp.

  Turning in three circles on the bed, Bacon offered me a compassionate snort before wriggling and nudging the comforter into a cozy nest just for him. It would seem he was totally comfortable adding the newcomer to our little family. I did not concur. If for no other reason than I had no idea where I would find an infant carrier the creature’s size with which to hide it.

  Out of ideas, I filled my lungs to capacity and did the unthinkable. Pulling my phone out of the back pocket of my black jeans, I clenched my teeth to the point of pain and dialed Sister Dina’s number.

  She answered on the second ring, concern braiding knots of unease in her tone. “Octavia, what’s wrong? Something’s happened, hasn’t it? I knew it. I could feel the negative energy snaking around you.”

  “I’m okay,” I assured her, combing my fingers through pink strands of hair desperately in need of a good washing. “I’ve just run into a little bit of a situation and I…” don’t say it, don’t say it, “… need your help.”

  Silence.

  “Dina?” Pulling the phone away from my ear, I glanced down to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. Finding that wasn’t the case, I tried again. “Did you hear me? I choked on my pride and said I could use some help.”

  In place of a response, a sharp knock rattled my motel room door on its hinges. Head snapping in the direction of my new friend, I drew a complete blank over how one was supposed to hide a sea monster. The bathroom? How would I get him (sitting in that position had confirmed his gender to a gross degree) off the floor?

  “Who is it?” I called out, feigning a tone of calm neutrality.

  “Octavia, it’s Dina. Open the door.”

  On a normal day, my relationship with the Wiccan elder was chilly at best. Circumstance pushed me well beyond that. Flinging open the door, I caught the Amazonian-sized woman by the wrist and dragged her inside. The instant the door slammed shut behind her, I launched at her and latched on like a panicked koala. “Thank you, in all your witchy-wonder, for coming. I didn’t know who else to call, or what to do.”

  “Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?” Returning the hug with an awkward pat on my back, Dina sniffed the air. “And why does it smell like rancid fish sticks in here?”

  “I’m fine.” Releasing my hold, I took a step back and gestured to the creature with a roll of my wrist. “I just made a new friend I don’t quite know what to do with.”

  Dina’s spine straightened, her hands dropping to her sides as if touching me suddenly scalded her. “I told you to leave. I told you to get out of town as quickly as you could.”

  Feeling every bit the chastised child, I looped my thumbs in the pockets of my jeans and cast my stare to the russet carpet. “I know. Believe me, breaking a hip kicking myself. That said, maybe we can table regrets long enough to figure out what to do about Captain Squid-face over there.”

  Snatching a water glass off the end table, Dina marched to the bathroom with resolute strides. After filling it under the faucet, she carried it to the newly dubbed Squid-face. Squatting down beside him, she poured a bit into her palms and rubbed it over his skin. It acted as sea creature Xanax, instantly chilling him out. “Do you have any idea what
this beast is?” She kept her back to me, her tone clipped and frosty.

  “I do not. What I have learned, is that he can fly with surprising speed and agility for a fella his size,” I admitted, wetting my suddenly parched lips. “And, judging by his response to your little rub down, it also seems he doesn’t like being out of water for long. Like an enormous flying fish.”

  “I see.” Pouring out the last of the water, Dina gave Squid-face another hit of liquid goodness. “Follow up question: Do you know who a creature, such as this, is typically a minion for?”

  “I…do not.” I considered lying, but figured it to be pointless.

  “Clearly.” Dina pushed herself off the floor, the fabric of her flowy skirt falling around her ankles in a curtain. “I gave you a very simple warning, and you chose to disregard it. Therefore, I think it would be best for you to handle this situation on your own.”

  Parking myself in her path to the door, I held up both hands to halt her. “Whoa, now! Let’s not get crazy! I do stupid, rash things. That’s kind of my trademark move. But isn’t it endearing enough to overlook?”

  “I care for your well-being, Octavia. I truly do. As such, I am utterly confident you are in no mortal danger. That said, I’m not going to be your paranormal safety net, here to catch you whenever you get into a situation you can’t handle.” Tucking one shoulder, she easily skirted around me. “You brought this mess on yourself. Now, figure it out.”

  My hands fell to my sides in exasperated disgust. “You were concerned enough about something here to call and warn me, but when I actually need help, you’re going to cut bait and run?”