Shark & The Wolf: Predators and Prey

by Daniel D. Shields

  They crossed over a causeway that provided a link from the mainland to the first of the many islands of the Keys. They stopped in front of a large wooden sign attached to the side of an old wooden boat, half buried and anchored in the sand. The sign read: Welcome to Key Largo – Entrance to the Conch Republic and the Florida Keys.

  Shark jumped off his bike and noticed Dog Z Boy looking quizzically at the sign. “What’s the Conch Republic? Are we in a different country or something?”

  Shark flipped through his guidebook. “I don’t believe so. It says here that something happened once where the U.S. Border Patrol set up a roadblock back on U.S. 1 in Florida City. This meant residents of the Keys had to prove citizenship every time they went to the mainland. I guess it pissed them off a bit because they decided to try to secede from the United States. Many Key residents now consider themselves to be both Conchs and Americans.”

  “Sounds pretty cool, to be partying in the Conch Republic!” Dog Z Boy yelled. “Just show me the way to the bar.”

  Shark closed the guidebook and placed it back in his knapsack. He stepped out into the center of the road and stared down the highway, deciding what to do. He spoke facing forward, knowing that Dog Z Boy was listenig from behind. “Islamorada is the Key that has the Tiki Bar with the famous rum drinks. It’s about thirty miles straight ahead, then after that, Key West is another seventy-five miles.” Shark turned and looked directly at Dog Z Boy. “We only have about an hour before sunset. That’s when the parties in the Keys come to life. The guidebook says that Key Largo has a bar not to be missed called The Quacking Duck. Since it also says it has a pool table, I say we get a room and crash here tonight.”

  Dog Z Boy smiled at Shark. “If the guidebook says not to miss it, and it has a pool table, then it sounds good to me.”

  “Great,” Shark replied as he jumped back on his bike and revved the engine. “Let’s find ourselves a cheap hotel and give the Duck something to really quack about.”

  “You quack me up,” Dog Z Boy joked.

  Shark let out a big laugh and gave his best friend a big smile. “Let’s ride.”

  They headed down the two-lane road through the center of Key Largo. The street was lined with large palms and other tropical plants that blocked the full view of the large resorts Shark could see dotting the coast. Shark took a left off the main road and headed east on Ocean Drive, which after a few blocks ended at the vast Atlantic Ocean. They sat for a moment admiring the view, then made a right on Ocean Cay, which ran parallel to the water. The pavement ended and gave way to loose sand which caused their bike tires to struggle. As they rounded a curve the road ended, and right there, just as described by the guidebook, was a white-shingled shack sitting right on the Ocean. There was a big sign on the roof that read: Captain Bill’s Resort and Spa.

  Dog Z Boy looked at Shark. “You don’t think this place is going to be too fancy, do ya?”

  Shark looked around at the grounds. There was an old volleyball court with weeds growing up from the sand. He jumped off his bike and approached an ancient wooden hot tub that was filled with green, algae-covered water.

  Shark smiled. “I don’t think it’s going to be too fancy, Dog Z Boy. I think it’s just our speed. Let’s see if they have any rooms.”

  Shark opened the squeaky screen door and stepped into the small office. He heard the wooden floorboards creak under his feet. Shark took a deep breath; the room had a surprisingly pleasant scent of old dust mixed with salt from the sea. He didn’t know why, but it reminded him of home. He rang a little bell that was on the counter.

  He heard her voice first: “Just a minute, I’ll be right with you.”

  As she stepped around the corner, Shark’s eyes grew wide in amazement. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on. And as he looked at the shocked expression on Dog Z Boy’s face, he knew that his friend was in agreement.

  “Hi, my name’s Vixen. What can I do for you boys?”

  Shark stuttered. “We’re . . . er . . . we’re er . . .” He looked at Dog Z Boy for help.

  “We’re looking for a room,” Dog Z Boy blurted out.

  Shark regained his composure. “Yeah, that’s right . . . need to know if you have any rooms.”

  “Well, let me see,” she said as she thumbed down the log book which Shark could see was empty. She looked up at them. “Looks like you guys are in luck. We’re wide open. Do you want one room or two?”

  Shark was still mesmerized by her beauty and was slow to respond. “One should do it.”

  He sensed that Vixen knew he was checking her out and just hoped the attraction would be mutual. He watched as she walked slowly to the back wall and retrieved a set of keys. He thought he detected a smile forming on her face but wasn’t sure. She returned to the counter and handed Shark the keys. “Great, here you go. It’s bungalow eight.”

  “That’s cool. It’s like eight, as in eight-ball pool,” Dog Z Boy responded excitedly.

  Vixen flashed a large smile at the unexpected reaction. “Oh, you guys play pool?”

  Shark felt Dog Z Boy slap him on the shoulder. “Do we play pool? My buddy here is the one and only pool shark.”

  “Really,” Vixen said as her green eyes focused on Shark’s. “So you’re going to the Duck tonight, then?”

  Shark was melting into the floorboards as his gaze with Vixen intensified. “That’s right, going there to catch the sunset in about ten minutes.”

  Vixen continued her eye lock with Shark. “Just be careful. They don’t take kindly to strangers coming in and beating them on their own tables.”

  Shark took a deep breath. He knew he had to get to know this total vision of a woman who was standing in front of him. He looked at her long black hair, her beautiful green eyes, and noticed the small star tattoo on her left temple. Her face was warm and inviting, total perfection. She was just plain hot. The palms of his hands began to sweat as he reached for the nerve to ask her to join them. After a short pause, he decided just to go for it. “Well, if you join us, we won’t be considered total strangers.”

  Vixen smiled. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

  Shark was left speechless, and the moment turned awkward. Dog Z Boy jumped to the rescue. “I think what he’s saying is that we could sure use a beautiful tour guide to show us around the island.”

  Nodding his head in agreement, Shark looked at Dog Z Boy, then back at Vixen, who gave Shark another big smile. “Well, I wouldn’t want you two to get into any trouble. I’ll close up and meet you boys out front in ten minutes.”

  Shark felt a rush of adrenaline run through his body as he realized that he would be spending the evening with the beautiful creature known as Vixen. He smiled back. “Great, see you in ten. I’m Shark, and this is Dog Z Boy. All we have to do is drop our bags.”

  Shark led Dog Z Boy down a meandering sand path lined with small bungalows tucked into overgrown tropical foliage. Shark looked up at the number of the run-down hut. It read: Number Eight.

  “We’re here, Dog Z Boy. Let’s drop the bags and start the party.” Shark made his way over the weathered wooden porch and opened the door. Inside, he could see two queen beds and a small table with a colorful lamp. Perfect, he thought.

  Dog Z Boy walked in and opened a pair of green wooden shutters, exposing a spectacular ocean view. “I could really get used to this.”

  Shark dropped his bags on the bed closest to the window. “I’m with you, brother, that’s quite a view, but I’m more interested in the one at the front desk. Now let’s party.”

  As he walked in The Quacking Duck Bar with Dog Z Boy and Vixen, Shark took in the scene. It was on the bay side of the island and had a large wooden deck that opened directly to the water. Shark could sense the eyes of the regulars checking him out. They are all wondering, he thought, what Vixen is doing with two strangers. He didn’t care. He could handle his own should any of the regulars make any trouble.

  They grabbed a table on the raili
ng next to the water that provided a perfect, unobstructed view of the setting sun. Shark ordered the first of many rounds.

  The three of them sat and told stories and laughed. Shark liked Vixen’s wide, warm smile that appeared when she laughed at his and Dog Z Boy’s jokes. She seems to be enjoying herself, he thought.

  They listened to the acoustic music of a barefoot singer and watched as he looked over at Vixen. “We have a special treat in the house tonight, folks,” the singer announced to the crowd with a smile as he slowly strummed his guitar. “That is, if she would be willing to join me in a song?”

  Shark leaned over to Vixen. “Why is he looking at you? Do you sing?”

  “I’ve been known to.” Vixen stood and walked toward the small stage. “I’d be happy to play with you, Jimmy,” she announced to the guitarist as she waved to the crowd. She took the cordless microphone off the stand and looked back at the table. “This one goes out to my new friends, Shark and Dog Z Boy.”

  Shark grinned widely at the unexpected acknowledgement. He looked over and noticed Dog Z Boy also had a wide grin. They both gave small waves to the crowd’s light applause.

  “We have something about friends there, Jimmy?” Vixen asked the singer through the microphone.

  “We sure do, Vixen,” the guitarist responded as he slowly strummed the opening of the tune.

  Shark was amazed as Vixen’s angelic voice began to sing a song about friends that was once played at Woodstock. He looked over and noticed that the entire crowd was also mesmerized. He felt himself melting in his seat as he looked up and noticed Vixen’s exotic green eyes locked onto his. Her pure beauty radiated. She walked over and sat on his lap as she continued the song, their deep romantic gaze intensified. She suddenly stood as the guitarist went into an extended musical bridge. She then held the microphone in the center of the table and motioned for Shark and Dog Z Boy to lean in.

  “Come on, boys, help me finish the final verse of the song.” The three began to sing and the crowd went wild.

  The crowd applauded at the amazing rendition. Shark felt shocked and slightly embarrassed as Vixen gave him a small kiss on his forehead. She bent over and did the same to Dog Z Boy.

  The crowd shouted her name. ”Vixen! Vixen! Vixen!” She gave the audience a wave, handed the mike back to the guitarist, and walked back to the table and sat right next to Shark.

  “That was incredible,” Shark said.

  “I love that song,” Dog Z Boy chimed in.

  Shark and Vixen shared a long gaze. He could feel a large smile forming on his face and watched as the same appeared on hers. Our mutual attraction must be obvious to everyone in the bar, he thought.

  The rest of the evening progressed in stages. The first was the Keys ritual of celebrating the sunset with a toast just as the sun fell below the horizon. The second was a few hours of playing pool during which Shark and Dog Z Boy told many stories and they all had many drinks and laughs. The third stage was when Shark and Vixen lay together on a blanket on the beach, where warm breezes ruffled palm tree leaves as a full moon illuminated the perfect, star-filled tropical sky.

  Shark was smiling as he opened his eyes briefly and saw the inside of the train car. He was humming the tune Vixen sang as he closed his eyes and let himself doze off into a much-needed deep and rejuvenating sleep.

  CHAPTER 12

  The Train

  Shark listened to the click-and-clank noise of the wheels moving over the rails as the old circus train moved north through the plains; it was the only sound to be heard. He sat with his back against the side of the dirty rail car. It was empty except for a little hay on the floor and an old burlap blanket that lay just beyond his reach.

  He reached down and moved his hands over the restraints bolted to his ankles. He moved his hands from the iron clasps to the long chain that ran up and connected to a set of iron bracelets around his wrists. He again tried to chew at the chains, his sharp, serrated teeth making a scratching sound with every bite. He felt the chains where he had chewed and again found not even a scratch.

  Shark looked up and across to the other side of the car. Through the bar-covered window he could see the tops of mountains in the distance, their white, snow-capped peaks illuminated by the light of a full moon. On any other night, in any other circumstance, this view would have been beautiful to behold.

  The silence was suddenly shattered. He could hear a voice and loud footsteps on the roof of the car. A hatch in the ceiling swung open, and an empty whiskey bottle fell and shattered on the floor. A short, fat, bald, ugly man stuck his head down into the car. He was drunk. His face was filthy, and when he grinned, Shark could see he was missing several of his rotten yellow teeth. The man smelled as if he had not bathed in over a month.

  The man laughed and looked directly at Shark. “Hello, Fishy. Want to play? Mr. Shaw sends his greetings.”

  The whip was long—long enough to reach Shark as it came down through the hole in the ceiling. The first impact struck Shark just above his right eye. He reached out, trying to grab the end of the whip, but the whip was already gone, and in its place was a large gash in his thick skin. Pain radiated throughout his body, and he screamed in agony. He quickly stumbled to his feet. He heard another crack of the whip and felt more pain. Shark turned the front of his body away from the attack, but another lash of the whip came down and struck him on his back. Whip! Whip! Whip! Crack! The beating went on, and Shark was helpless to stop it. The ugly, sadistic man laughed with each blow.

  CHAPTER 13

  Two Prizes for the Price of One

  Old Jack entered the lobby of the posh Hotel D’Elegante in the South American city of Matadore. The lobby was filled with ornate Spanish accents, apparent in both the furnishings and architecture. Fresh flowers filled the room, and his nostrils inhaled the pleasant scent of lavender.

  A bell hop approached. “Good to see you again, sir. May I take your bag?”

  Old Jack nodded, gave his bag to the bell hop, and headed toward the front desk.

  The woman behind the counter was a beautiful blond with an Eastern European accent. She greeted him with a warm, familiar smile. “Hello, Mr. Jack, here for another stay?”

  He smiled back. “Yes, two nights, please.”

  The blond woman checked her computer screen. “I see we have room 327 available, Mr. Jack. That’s your regular room, is it not?”

  “Yes, that’s fabulous. I’ll take it,” he said as his attention was drawn to the bar off the lobby. He could see a couple playing pool. He looked back at the blond woman, who was holding his key.

  “Here you go, Mr. Jack, I’ve also included a complimentary massage and have prearranged your dinner reservations for eight p.m. each evening. The bellhop will bring your bags to your room. Enjoy your stay,” she said politely.

  Old Jack took the keys. “Thank you.”

  He turned and walked toward the bar, stopping for a second to watch the young couple play pool. They were not that good, and his interest quickly waned. He continued to the bar and ordered a whiskey.

  Old Jack sat, taking slow sips of the intoxicating beverage. He thought about the show, particularly the death of the lion and the bull, and smiled. Death was his friend.

  His peaceful moment was suddenly interrupted by an obese woman who took the chair next to his. She smiled at him, showing rotten, yellow teeth. “Care to buy me a drink there, sweetie?” she asked.

  Old Jack looked her up and down. She was obviously a vagrant and a prostitute. Not to mention just plain vulgar.

  “Absolutely not,” he said. He stood and moved two chairs down.

  He watched as the woman raised herself from her seat and approached him. She moved in close to his face. He could smell her foul breath and was now only inches from her rotten teeth.

  “Your loss,” she whispered as she ran her dirty hands across the base of his neck and walked away.

  Old Jack gave a little shake at the thought of her. He felt repulsed. And those teeth�
�he hadn’t seen teeth like that since he was a child. They reminded him of his mother’s. He took a big sip of his whiskey to calm his nerves.

  Across the bar he noticed a glass case that held a collection of old swords. He fantasized about breaking the glass, grabbing a sword and slicing the vulgar woman’s head clean off her disgusting frame. Little does she know, he thought, how close she actually came to death.

  He took another big sip of whiskey and again focused on the sword collection, eyeing it carefully. Just a bunch of replicas, he thought, decorations to give the place an authentic Spanish look. Not a real one, not like the one I found for Shaw in Fiji. A new smile formed on his face. He felt a wave of adrenaline run through his body as he thought about how smoothly his plan fell into place. Not one, but two treasures. He not only used Shark to retrieve the saber but captured him and sold him to Shaw. That was pure brilliance. He took a long sip of whiskey and closed his eyes as a devilish smile formed on his face.

  Old Jack sat at the bar at Tiki Wiki Billiards, sipping one of their famous Rum Jungle drinks. He checked out the beautiful curves of Cahira’s body as she worked the blender behind the bar. Not bad, he thought. Might be willing to give that one a shot at the title. The title of future Mrs. Jack. His eyes were drawn to a beautiful fox walking slowly up the front steps of the bar. As he looked at her, he quickly forgot about Cahira. This fox had to be one of the most beautiful creatures nature had ever created. She would definitely work as the future Mrs. Jack. The fox approached the bar and stood to his right. He looked up at her long black hair, then followed the immaculate curves of her body from her feet all the way up to her stunning face. He noticed a small star tattoo on her left temple—a real wild one here, he thought. She glanced at him with mesmerizing green eyes, and he almost fell off his chair. What would it take to get a woman like this? Balls, he thought, the balls to try.