The inferno blazing to his satisfaction, he turned and ran, disappearing into the surrounding darkness. He took a wide arcing path to the marina, staying well off the road, certain the raging fire at the compound would bring everyone from the waterfront. Sure enough, within minutes, he saw the headlights of several cars racing toward the compound. Gasping for air as he reached the marina, he found it utterly emptied. But he knew his good fortune wouldn't last. The Priest's people would soon figure out what had happened, and would be charging back to the marina to cut off Arkin's best escape route.
He raced down to the dock and jumped in the fastest-looking boat he could see—it was an open-top fiberglass tender, maybe 20 feet long, with a 150-horse outboard and a steering console. The keys were in the ignition. He cast off without bothering to check if there was any extra fuel, food, or water on board. It hardly mattered now. He fired up the engine, backed out of the slip, then did his best to maneuver toward the opening in the rock jetty. The steering was stiff. Looking forward as he tried to turn, he saw that his leeway was pushing him toward the concrete riprap end of the breakwater. If he drifted much farther to port, he'd hit. He passed the breakwater close enough to reach over the rail and touch it. But against all expectation, the hull didn't hit bottom, and he slipped out of the marina and into open water. Even as he did so, he could see two sets of headlights rushing back toward the marina. He rounded the northernmost tip of the island and set a westerly course straight out to sea, reasoning that they'd expect him to go north toward civilization or east toward land. But for now, he was satisfied to just get the hell away from the island, whatever the direction. And he thanked his lucky stars for the dark, overcast night.
When he was a couple of miles off shore, he turned around to see two beams of light shining out over the water, no doubt from vessels with bow-mounted search lights. They appeared to be running out toward the north and east, just as he'd anticipated. He had to get as far offshore as possible before morning light, before they could search for him with their helicopter. The engine was running fine. But the gas and temperature gauges weren't functional. He had no idea how much fuel he had, or if the engine was running hot. And if the engine died, he died.
He took stock of his situation, realizing that he probably had no food or water on board. Just the clothes on his back. Could he sneak into a village to the north or east to scrounge for provisions? No—they would expect him to try that, and would capture and kill him. There were no towns to the south—not for hundreds of kilometers anyway. He could still head that direction, at some point touching land to forage for food and fresh water. But his chances wouldn’t be much better. As soon as the group decided he hadn’t headed north or east, they’d search to the south, since there was nothing to the west but thousands of miles of open ocean. And even if he tried to sink the fiberglass boat and strike out over the rugged, mountainous mainland to the south, they would probably spot the wreck, fly in their tracker dogs, and hunt him down.
What to do? Drift west to New Zealand and find work on a chardonnay vineyard? With no passport? No identification? Across thousands of miles of open sea? A pipe dream. He would capsize in heavy seas and drown. Or if the sea didn't take him, he would die of hypothermia, starvation, dehydration, or all three.
Even if he evaded capture and survived, then what? He could never go home. If, by some miracle, he brought the group to justice and exonerated himself, he could never return to his old life, with all his sad and infuriating memory.
Motoring on in darkness, he realized that he was almost certainly a dead man. But to his surprise, he felt no anxiety. No fear at all. Instead, his body tingled with an unfamiliar, tickling lightness. Before he knew it, standing there at the helm and steering his boat out into the vast and empty sea, he was laughing out loud.
If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review
on Amazon, here:
WRITE A CUSTOMER REVIEW
Independent authors live and die by their reviews. The author would be grateful for your help. Thank you.
To read
CHASING THE MONKEY KING
by D.C. Alexander,
PLEASE CLICK HERE
Praise for Chasing the Monkey King
"Entertainment so involving you won't realize
you're being educated too."
— Coast Weekend
To sign up for advance notification of NEW BOOKS by D.C. Alexander,
please click here:
EMAIL SIGN-UP
Your email address will never be given to anyone else, and will only be used to notify you when new D.C. Alexander books are published.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
D.C. Alexander is a former federal agent. His debut novel, The Legend of Devil's Creek, was a #1 Amazon Kindle Best Seller. He was born and raised in the Seattle area, and now lives in Louisville, Kentucky. He welcomes your feedback. You can email him directly at:
[email protected]
To follow the author on Goodreads, please click here:
GOODREADS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Many, many thanks to novelist Sue Grafton, who spent countless hours helping me hone my writing skills.
For invaluable assistance, advice, and encouragement along the way, I also owe a debt of gratitude to Holly Pemberton, Arland Digirolamo, Elaine Bilodeau, Art Bilodeau, Cheryl Kringle, Mickey Meece, Doug Kimball, Scott Lindsay, Paige Rivas, Jim Kemp, Elizabeth Goodman, Ellen Nason, Judy Pemberton, Jamie Mingus, Charlie Mingus, Julie Hawkins, Elizabeth George, Juanita Chen, Sue Campau, Norm Campau, Adrianne Hoadley, Kirsten Anderson, Christine Lyons, Amy Curtis, Assistant U.S. Attorney Karen Shelton, former Assistant U.S. Attorney Peter Katz, Special Agent Antonio Jasso, Special Agent Kory Casler, Special Agent Helena Chavez, Special Agent Brady Ipock, Hon. Judge Joan E. DuBuque, Professor Emeritus Malcolm A. Griffith, Professor Alexander Pettit, and the late Dr. Roger Salisbury.
Finally, I'm grateful to many authors and literary mavens for their priceless guidance over the years, including J.A. Jance, Kevin O'Brien, P.J. Alderman, Dr. Allen Wyler, Mike Lawson, Jane Porter, David Long, Greg Bear, Mark Lindquist, John J. Nance, Kelley Eskridge, Julie Paschkis, Jennie Shortridge, Dia Calhoun, Nancy Horan, Robert Dugoni, Nancy Pearl, Jess Walter, Stephanie Kallos, Royce Buckingham, Layton Green, and Rose O'Keefe.
The Shadow Priest: Omnibus Edition: Two Complete Novels Page 51
