Adrenaline

by Bill Eidson

  And a painful cut along the tip of his forefinger.

  He had found the razor.

  Carly’s eyes were glued to the red digits, down to thirteen minutes now.

  They had just charged through town in Alex’s truck. Carly had said they weren’t too far away by water, but she didn’t know how to find the place by boat. Not in the dark, anyhow. Steve had spun the boat around and they had taken more time than he could afford running through the night to get back to the boat launching site. He had run the Blue Water up onto the ramp and thrown two tanks and his dive gear into the back of Alex’s truck.

  Steve got it when they saw the sign for Sea Crest.

  “Jansten,” he said. “You’re keeping her at Jansten’s house. That’s how Lazar got to you, he went to question Jansten or something, right?”

  She looked at him and then looked back to the numbers.

  “Where is he?”

  “What?”

  Steve shook her. “Where’s Jansten?”

  She seemed not so much afraid of the descending numbers as mesmerized. “He’s in the bedroom. Dead.”

  “God damn it! Steve hit the dashboard with his fist. What the hell’s the matter with you two?”

  That startled her. She blinked at him.

  Then she sat up suddenly. “Hey, how do I know this is real? Maybe it’s just some frigging clock you picked up at the drugstore.”

  She started to open the case and he snatched her hand away. “Don’t. There’s a tension release detonator in there.”

  “Maybe I should do it then. Take you out, too.”

  He looked at her carefully, but didn’t say anything. He turned onto the gravel road leading to Jansten’s house.

  She stared at him, her hands trembling. She almost did it. Slipped those latches and let it all end right there.

  But in the end, she folded her hands in her lap. “I can’t go to jail,” she said, as they charged past the house.

  “Where are they?”

  She nodded to the pier. “They went off the end of that.”

  Steve drove onto the pier and stopped the truck. He hurried out to the back of the truck and pulled on his mask, tank, fins. He grabbed a dive light and quickly tightened a regulator onto the spare tank.

  In his head, Ray’s hands beat against slick fiberglass.

  Steve pulled the mask down over his face.

  “What about me?” Carly said as he stood near the edge of the pier.

  He didn’t answer her.

  “There’s only seven minutes left,” she cried. “You can’t leave me here!”

  Steve jumped into the water.

  Carly moved herself to the edge of the pier. She watched the light go deeper and deeper. She was silent, until from the corner of her eye, she saw the flicker of change in the digital readout as the seven turned into a six. Before she knew it was going to happen, she burst into tears.

  It was dark, and she was cold and wet. As far as she could see, everything from that night Neal had pounded on the door of her mother’s trailer had led her here tonight, and she couldn’t see how that was fair.

  She hiccupped. She looked back up at the house and realized one of the floodlights was still on. That made her tears stop. She remembered Geoff turning them all off as they left. She knew he did.

  She stifled a scream.

  There was a boat pulled up on the beach, covered with a tarp. It hadn’t been there when they had left.

  A wave lapped up and moved the tarp near the transom. Even in the poor light, she could see the manufacturer’s name.

  Mako.

  Chapter 40

  Lisa was almost out of air.

  Lazar had been able to slice away the rope binding them within minutes after getting his hands on the razor.

  And even though they couldn’t pull their legs free of the chain, Lazar had started cutting away the wetsuit around her legs, trying to get enough slack to pull her legs free.

  When that first tug on her breath came, Lisa looked at the pressure gauge and saw the needle pegged at zero. She had squeezed Lazar’s arm with all her strength and then lain back in her seat, trying to be calm. Trying to conserve the last few breaths until he could strip the material away.

  He recognized what was happening and worked furiously.

  She knew he couldn’t have much air left either. She knew that whatever time and air he spent on her, he couldn’t spend on himself. She knew that, and still she couldn’t find it in herself to protest.

  Hurry, she thought. Her ankle was loose in the chain now, but still she couldn’t tug it free. She fought for it, pulling Lazar aside and tugging her leg with everything she had.

  Close. But no goddamn cigar.

  She exhaled.

  Then, slowly, she inhaled. Waiting for rejection.

  It came within half a breath. Complete resistance.

  The tank was empty.

  Still she tried, still she choked and gagged against the mouthpiece trying to find air where there was none. Lazar saw what was happening, and he handed her his mouthpiece and then went back to work on her suit.

  She drank carefully from the air. Bad form to take it all. Hysteria began to bubble inside her and she clamped down on it tight. Crazed laughter consumes too much air, she told herself, solemnly.

  The razor bit into her leg and she cried out. She tapped his shoulder, and he came back up to take the mouthpiece.

  That’s it, she told herself, looking at his pressure gauge. The needle was sitting just above zero.

  He gave her back the mouthpiece and went back to work.

  She saw a light outside the window.

  Lisa rubbed her faceplate, not sure if she was hallucinating.

  It was there. A light. She thought maybe this was Death. Or maybe just Geoff coming down to gloat.

  That thought gave her a kind of hope. She fumbled for Lazar’s hand, looking for the razor. He pushed her hand away and kept working. She yelled into her mouthpiece, determined to live long enough to cut Geoff, cut him any way she could.

  And then she recognized who it was and she was certain now that she was hallucinating. She leaned back in her seat as he reached in; she couldn’t let herself believe that he was real.

  Luckily, that didn’t stop her from accepting the bubbling regulator from Steve.

  He slid the tank in between them and handed the extra hose and mouthpiece to Lazar. The cop grabbed Lisa’s hand and they squeezed each other so hard it hurt. She was laughing inside her mouthpiece and she could hear him do the same. A little hysteria would be acceptable now, the solemn voice told her, and she gave in to it for a second or two, and then sobered up fast. She was suddenly very anxious to be out of the car altogether, breathing real air instead of the canned stuff.

  She put her facemask against Steve’s. She couldn’t really see him once the light was blocked out, but, God, she knew he was there.

  She drew a deep breath.

  It’s over. It’s over.

  She could cry all day if she wanted.

  Suddenly, Steve was yanked away from her.

  He cried out in pain, a muted underwater sound, but she recognized it for what it was. She reached out for him, terrified, thinking something had him, a shark or a barracuda.

  Steve’s tank clanged on the roof and Lazar turned the dive light out the front window and she could see Geoff and Steve on the hood, fighting.

  And Steve had something sticking out of his back, a big, yellow-handled screwdriver.

  Lazar slammed himself to the left and right, but couldn’t pull himself free. Lisa tried the same, but as much as she strained, she couldn’t quite pull herself free from the chain.

  Geoff was trying to yank away Steve’s air hose. Steve kept his hand over his own facemask and mouthpiece, like when she had seen him jump off a boat with all his gear. He was trying for the knife he kept on his weight belt, but Geoff’s leg covered it as he straddled Steve.

  Lisa saw the dull reflection of the razor in Lazar�
��s hand, and saw him reach around the front windshield with it from the driver’s side.

  But he couldn’t get close enough to them.

  They were closer to her.

  She grabbed Lazar’s hand for the razor.

  He hesitated, and then she squeezed hard. “Give it to me!” she yelled into the mouthpiece. He handed it to her.

  Lisa hit the window with the razor’s handle three times.

  Lazar turned the dive light so the blade glittered brightly. Steve’s head turned their way, and suddenly, he shifted, knocking Geoff back against the front window. Steve had to take his hand away to do that, and Geoff used the opportunity to strip away Steve’s mask and regulator.

  But Steve kept charging. He kept pushing Geoff back until they slid off the edge of the car. Lazar lunged across Lisa and reached through the window to grab Geoff by his tank.

  And Lisa used the razor across the small of his back.

  Chapter 41

  Carly saw Geoff was all wrong as soon as his head broke the surface. He could move his arms, but it was Steve who was keeping him afloat.

  A moment later, Lisa and the cop joined them.

  “Hurry!” Carly said, as she heard Steve telling Lisa how to disarm the bomb.

  Lisa hurried up the ladder with the key in her hand.

  “Is it real?” Carly said.

  Lisa didn’t answer. She slid the key into the lock and switched off the timer.

  “Was it?” Carly asked.

  “Yes,” Lisa said, tiredly. She slumped back against a piling for a moment, then turned to help Lazar. Geoff clung to the bottom of the ladder, his body slack.

  Carly called to Geoff, but he didn’t answer. “Can’t you hear me?” she said.

  Steve said, “Lisa, throw me down a rope for him. He’s paralyzed from the waist down.”

  “What about you? You’ve still got that thing in your back.”

  “Let Mann drown,” Lazar said.

  “No!” Carly said.

  “Girl, I’d drown you with him, if I had the energy.” The cop held himself up against a piling.

  “Please,” Steve said, his voice weak. “Let’s just finish this.”

  “I’ll get the rope.” Lisa hurried to the truck and returned with a heavy length of hemp. She tossed an end of the line down to Steve, and then she, Lazar, and Carly pulled Geoff up. Though his arms appeared to still function, he didn’t help himself at all.

  Carly dragged the aluminum case to the edge of the pier and pulled Geoff’s head to her breast. “Oh, baby,” she said. “You’re hurt bad, aren’t you?”

  His legs hung over the side, slack, like those of a doll.

  He said nothing.

  “Steve!” Lisa cried, and turned to Lazar, white-faced. “He’s coughing blood.”

  Lazar staggered over to Geoff and yanked the loop of rope from his shoulders. He said to Lisa, “Go down there with him, and hold on to this. I’ll pull you along the pier to the beach.”

  She jumped into the water. Lazar dropped the line and hurried up the pier.

  Carly and Geoff were alone.

  “Why did you come back?” she whispered.

  He didn’t answer.

  She cradled his head in her lap. “Does it hurt?”

  He opened his eyes. She saw his lower lip start to tremble, and then he clamped his jaw down tight.

  “Geoff, talk to me, please.”

  “I can’t feel my legs,” he said.

  “I thought you were dead. I thought you drowned in that boat.”

  “Almost did. But I found an air bubble under the cabin roof. I got out before the boat hit bottom. I’ve always had luck. Always had fantastic luck.”

  She saw a tear slip down his cheek and wiped it away as if it were just seawater on his face. She said, “So why did you come back?”

  “Crazy.”

  “Why?”

  “Crazy and I’ll never walk again for it.” His breathing began to rush and he looked left and right, panicking. “Oh, Jesus, oh God, I’m going to be in some prison hospital. Some prison hospital and I’m not going to be able to do anything.” He began to shiver, even though the night was warm. “Jesus, Carly, I could last years like this.”

  “Ssssh.” She kissed him on the forehead. “I know. They might never let us out.” She looked him in the eyes. “That goes for both of us. So I want the truth. Was it for the money? Did you figure you’d get Steve and make him go back down for the money?”

  “The money’s gone.”

  “Is that why, though?”

  “No.”

  “Why, then?”

  “You know why. To close it out. To finish with them and to get you.”

  “You were going to take me?”

  She could read it. Read the surprise in his eyes, perhaps with himself. “I told you,” he said. “You were going with me. We would have found another way to make some money.”

  “You love me?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Seems that I do.”

  She kissed him on the mouth. “I just wanted to go away with you. I wanted that so bad.”

  She told him what was in the case, what Steve had said about the detonator. She slid the case on top of them and he put his hands on the latches.

  “Take me with you,” she said.

  He did.

  Epilogue

  They dressed warmly against the October chill and set sail out of Boston Harbor just after midnight. The wind favored them by coming across the beam at a steady fifteen knots. Steve programmed a course into the GPS before coming back to the stern to take the wheel. The Sea Tern settled into a fast reach, her wake bubbling white.

  Lisa sat beside him. Her hair tickled his cheek and he felt content for the first time in months.

  The media had been after every element of the story, characterizing it as the ultimate boardroom clash. Lisa and Steve had seen the picture of themselves inside the ambulance more times than they could count: Lisa, exhausted and bedraggled. Steve, his face shockingly white from loss of blood. Their hands linked.

  Luckily, the press liked that. They liked the idea of a wealthy guy fighting for his wife. They liked that Lazar credited them with saving his life, and that they said the same of him. Having a veteran black cop behind them all the way made a huge difference.

  As for Geoff, a Boston Herald photographer somehow got into his apartment and shot virtually every picture on the wall. The Globe ran an editorial titled NARCISSUS LIVES AND DIES IN BOSTON. The story of Geoff’s good looks, his embezzled wealth, his shocking level of violence—and most of all, his relationship with Carly—sold a lot of newspapers.

  Luckily, every good story needs a hero or two and Lisa and Steve fit the bill.

  In truth, without the public sentiment and Lazar’s influence with the district attorney, Steve might well have gone to prison for sinking Alex and Jammer’s bodies at sea, and for the handgun violations.

  As for the assault on Raul’s yacht, Lazar told both Lisa and Steve how it had to be before the ambulance ever arrived. He knelt between the two of them on the beach, the flames still flickering on the pier. “You weren’t there, you got me? That thing was all Geoff’s doing. No one left alive to prove it’s not. That gets out, you’re gonna have gang shit on top of the cops. One or the other, somebody will get to you.”

  As it was, they escaped the gangs, the police, and even the press—but not the board of directors of Jansten Enterprises.

  “We’re looking at a mess, Steve,” George McGarrity had said at that morning’s board meeting. With Jansten gone, he was the acting chairman. McGarrity didn’t meet Steve’s eyes. “We don’t doubt most of what we heard. We certainly believe Geoff was the instigator here, and while personally many of us admire what you have done … the fact of the matter is that you—as well as he—used company funds inappropriately.”

  Here McGarrity had raised his hand, presumably to catch Steve’s objection, which didn’t arrive. “Yes, we realize that your wife was in a terri
ble spot, and we’re sure in such a desperate situation it only seemed expedient to take the money.”

  Steve looked down at the boardroom table, letting the words wash past him.

  So much for wealth and power.

  He thought of the speech he could make, how he could castigate them for judging him after the fact. “Just what the hell would you have done?” he could ask. He could talk about the cost of selling his home to immediately pay back the company, even though Raul’s aluminum case had been recovered and supposedly the one hundred and fifty thousand would soon be released from evidence. He could talk to them about an executive’s ability to make a decision and act. He could even talk to them about Carl Jansten’s own robber baron heritage and how he undoubtedly would have taken similar action had he been in the same predicament.

  But Steve didn’t say any of these things.

  McGarrity continued. “… and, yes, you have made restitution … but with the questions still open about Carl’s death and the entangled mess between you and Geoff Mann, I’m afraid this just won’t do. Jansten Enterprises has an image to maintain, and that means not only absolute honesty, but the appearance of absolute honesty …”

  Steve walked out.

  In the elevator, rushing down to ground level, he did a quick assessment of their finances. The house already belonged to someone else, the contractor had been paid. Steve had never been a believer in golden parachutes and had never negotiated for one. So his salary would dry up within a few weeks.

  But the boat was still theirs. After using most of the house equity to pay back what he owed to the corporation, they had enough cash for about four months. Maybe six if they were careful. Most likely he would raise capital for a start-up, produce an even better line of boats with Lisa’s help. But he didn’t even want to think about that now.

  As he and Lisa rose and fell with the motion of the waves, she asked, “Are you going to miss it?”

  They looked back on the lights of Boston. He knew if he put the binoculars to his eyes he could have picked out the Jansten building.