Thunder Storm

by Matt Lincoln

  He aimed his camera at her, trying to catch the light just right so that he could capture the beauty of the moment. He stepped back and took some photos of the rest of the group, too, as they worked their way into the water. The air around them was calm and quiet, and there was very little chatter as everyone tread carefully on the rocks.

  After a few minutes, Miguel realized that he was the only one not in the water. He set his camera down next to Maria’s shoes and propped one foot on the platform to untie his own shoes. Before he could undo the lacing, he heard a crack through the air. His head shot up as he scanned the group to see what it was, but everyone looked as bewildered as he did. On the surface of the water, a crimson red was blooming across the surface. In the center, the tour guide stood with his palms over his stomach, and a mix of surprise and terror etched onto his face.

  Miguel heard another crack, and then the screams began. The water began splashing as everyone struggled to escape the pond, but it was fruitless. The slippery, uneven bottom made it impossible to reach dry land efficiently. Everyone was trapped, and the cracks through the air continued their assault. He watched Maria stumble on her way out, and he went to dart toward her.

  An arm wrapped around his waist forcefully, catching him mid-stride, and a calloused hand gripped his mouth. Miguel was dragged backward, kicking and screaming, but it was no use. Whoever had a grip on him was strong, and a hell of a lot bigger than he was.

  He watched helplessly as Maria lay flat on her stomach, reaching an arm out to him in dismay and fear. He rounded a corner and lost sight of her, his feet dragging in the dirt as they went, and then the hands released him, tossing him face-first into the dirt. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, and then he heard a thud.

  Suddenly, Miguel’s vision went white, and a pain shot through the side of his skull. The surrounding sounds melded into some sort of ringing noise, and then his world went dark.

  Chapter 2: Linda

  “Hey, Captain Reyes, how’s it hanging?” Debra Slade’s voice echoed through the bridge, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turned back to find her standing at the top of the ladderwell with a coffee mug in each hand. Her black curls were slicked back into a low bun, and her dark skin glowed in the sunlight that beamed through the windows. “I brought you your favorite.”

  “You are my favorite Gunner’s Mate onboard, you know that, right?” I reached out and took the mug Slade offered me as she approached the helm.

  “Would you still say that to me if I wasn’t the only Gunner’s Mate onboard?” She chuckled as she sipped her coffee, looking out past the bow of the cutter at the clear turquoise Caribbean water glistening before us.

  “Absolutely,” I confirmed, inhaling the aroma and immediately feeling more awake. “You’re the one who brings me coffee.”

  “Good point,” she acknowledged. She slid into the black cushioned chair beside me. “So, where are we and what’s going on?”

  I took a long sip of my coffee before answering her. “Sector wants us to do a pass of Mona Island, so we’re headed there now. We’re almost there, actually.”

  “Another random check for troublemakers?” she asked over her coffee mug.

  I simply nodded. Slade knew that it was routine for us to patrol around Mona Island. The island was uninhabited, with some rough terrain and various caves scattered across it. It was also right between Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic, so it was the perfect place to stop off to offload contraband or exchange goods with very little chance of prying eyes getting in the way. In other words, it was a perfect haven for the bad guys.

  We usually didn’t find much out there. Not that the smugglers would hang around and wait to be caught, but I definitely felt that our constant presence deterred a lot of them from using the island the way they wanted to in the first place. As the small island began to appear over the horizon, it looked like we weren’t the only ones to come out this way this time.

  A small speed boat eased out onto the water, leaving the island and heading away from us. There was another boat docked near the same spot, and I recognized it as one of the tour boats. I was tempted to look into the speed boat but was distracted by someone on the beach. Whoever it was, they were flailing their arms around dramatically.

  “Are they waving at us?” Slade had been slouched slightly in the chair as she nursed her coffee, but now she was pitched forward in her seat with rapt attention.

  “It would appear so,” I replied, wondering what on Earth they would need to be flagging us down for. “Should we small boat in and find out what’s going on?”

  Slade groaned, but I knew it wasn’t a serious complaint. She set her coffee down and pushed the button down for the intercom.

  “Now, prepare the Boarding Team,” she announced. After she was done, she took one final gulp of her coffee before peeling herself off the chair and heading down the ladderwell to get ready. “You get next round!”

  My Boarding Team was amazing, and I didn’t just say that because I used to be on it. We were a very tight-knit group, and we’d been through enough treacherous situations to last us all our entire lifetimes. Stuff like that, it tends to bond people together. I knew that with Slade down there letting them know what she saw, they could be ready in no time.

  Sure enough, within five minutes, the entire team was standing before me, decked out in their helmets and body armor, an array of firearms visible between them. Slade was in her usual stance, with her hands resting against the butt of her rifle, which was strapped to the center of her chest.

  “Hey, guys,” I announced, clapping my hands together once for effect as I scanned all of their faces. “There is an individual trying to get our attention out there. I want to small boat in and see what’s going on. Stay alert and focused. I don’t know what you’ll find.”

  “You got it, boss.” Brian Murphy, our Boatswains Mate, flashed me a huge smile. Murph worked the communications systems out on the boardings, keeping us all updated as things progressed out on the water. He was a bit stocky and always hid his short brown hair under a ballcap, even outside of work.

  “Yeah, boss, whatever you need,” Perez parroted. Perez was Murph’s direct boss, and he was also the one driving the small boat on every mission.

  In addition to Murphy, Slade, and Perez, my team also consisted of Chief Sanchez and BM3 Taylor. Luke Sanchez was on the shorter side and sported a thick mustache. Taylor, on the other hand, was rail thin, which made his uniform appear to be hanging off of him. The plastic-rimmed glasses completed the look, and I was surprised no one poked more fun at him for it… goodnaturedly, of course.

  Taylor led the way back down the ladderwell, and Slade, Murphy, Perez, and Sanchez followed suit. ET2 Rogers stayed behind and headed over to the QMOW station to keep tabs on their progress from up here on the bridge. Rogers was tall, with a crop of bright red hair and friendly blue eyes, and he always stood at the QMOW station. As Quartermaster of the Watch, he was responsible for charting the course of the small boat during missions and often advised them on potential alternate routes during pursuits. He was our essential set of eyes up here on the bridge while the rest of the team members were down in the water.

  “I wish they’d stop calling me the boss,” I joked to Rogers as I resumed my stance at the helm.

  “Eh, you know they mean well,” Rogers chuckled. “You’re a great CO.”

  “Maybe,” I mused, “although if you’re comparing me to the last Commanding Officer, there aren’t exactly big shoes to fill.”

  “Touché.” Rogers glanced out the starboard side window, where he could see the water churning from the movement of our small boat. “Looks like the team is underway.”

  At that moment, the radio and intercom crackled to life, and Murphy’s tinny voice echoed through the bridge. “We are underway and en route to assess the situation.”

  I snatched up the intercom mic before Rogers could reach for it. “Thanks, Murph. Keep us posted.”

  “Isn
’t that literally my job?” he teased.

  I watched up ahead as the bright orange accents cut through the clear water, making a beeline toward the coast. The waving had stopped by this point, but I hoped we were still needed.

  “Rogers, let Sector know what is going on,” I advised. “Not sure what kind of situation to expect, but we may need backup. Or not. I don’t know, just let them know we found something.”

  “Sure thing, Cap,” he replied cheerfully as he typed out a brief message to Sector. I watched the boat reach the shore. At first, it just bobbed nearby, but then I saw someone quickly hop overboard and run onto the beach.

  “Murphy, what’s going on?” I demanded into the intercom, my voice automatically shifting from friendly to authoritative.

  “There’s an unmoving body on the beach,” Murphy replied quickly. “We are determining if they are conscious. Hold on--” His voice cut off suddenly amidst some clambering. I saw a second body hop into the water and begin wading to shore.

  “Damn, I think--” Murphy cut out again. “I think we need medical assistance here. Hold on--”

  I shot a quick look toward Rogers, who had one hand hovering above the keyboard and the other hovering over the phone, ready to reach out and request whatever we needed from Sector.

  “Okay, so we should probably call for medical assistance immediately,” Murphy advised, “but realistically, I think it’s too late.”

  “Murph, we need to administer medical assistance regardless of their condition,” I reminded him, a bit more forcibly than I had intended. Beside me, Rogers was on the phone requesting immediate assistance.

  “Well, obviously, Cap, but there’s no pulse.” Murphy’s voice sounded resigned. “They were waving us down for medical help, but there’s a lot of blood. There’s nothing anyone could have done.”

  “No,” I breathed, barely aware that I was still holding the intercom button down. “No. If we had known sooner…”

  “There is literally nothing we could have done,” Murphy assured me. “We are not sure what happened here, but he was badly wounded. There’s nothing to do. Even if we had been here when it happened, we would have seen the same results.”

  I collapsed back into my chair as the blades of a nearby helicopter started thrumming in the distance. It grew closer and closer until it passed over the top of us, and the familiar orange Jayhawk came into view as it descended over the beach.

  I watched as the commotion grew. The EMT on board ran over to the scene, did his assessment, and then went back over to the open door of the Jayhawk, emerging again with a stretcher.

  “They’re taking the body,” Rogers pointed out unhelpfully.

  “They’re slowing down,” I added, noting the slower pace as he set up the stretcher onto the sand.

  “That’s never a promising sign,” he muttered.

  “Damn it!” I threw myself up off of the chair and began pacing angrily. “Did I handle this wrong? Should we have called it in sooner?” I rubbed my face with my hands as I ran through everything we had done.

  “Hey!” Rogers yelled. I whirled around suddenly and fixed him with a steely gaze. He stepped back and held his palms out to me. “Okay, so I’m sorry I yelled, but Murphy was right. There is nothing we could have done. You know Murph, Cap. If there was anything that could have been done, he would have done it. If there was anything different that we could have done sooner, he would have said it. You did everything you could.”

  I sighed and followed that up with a few deep breaths to release some tension. “You’re right,” I acknowledged. “It’s just so frustrating. I saw them waving at us.”

  “The last desperate hope of a dying man,” Rogers mumbled. “Everyone is here now, though. We will figure out what happened.”

  Rogers was right. Within a few hours, law enforcement would descend upon this place to figure out what exactly had taken place, so I reached for the intercom.

  “Murph, what’s your status?”

  The intercom crackled to life. “They’re advising we stay put until law enforcement shows up.”

  “Understood,” I replied. “Sorry, guys. I know it’s lunchtime. I’ll see if CS1 can whip something up that we can send your way.”

  “Damn, that’d be much appreciated,” he replied. I could hear the gratitude in his voice.

  I glanced over at Rogers, who nodded.

  “That’s a great idea,” he admitted. “Would you like me to go wake up Jones?”

  “Ahh, she was on duty last night, wasn’t she?” I groaned. “I didn’t mean to volunteer her for something during her nap.”

  “She did say to wake her up if we needed her,” he reminded me. “Besides, she lives for this stuff. Remember the drug bust last patrol? The team was stuck out there for hours, and Jones was whipping up desserts.”

  I had to laugh at that one. Hailey Jones was a great cook, and she took her job to the next level. While everyone else had been grumbling about not being able to get home on schedule, Jones had been in the galley baking treats to keep morale up.

  “Yeah, you have a good point there,” I acknowledged. “Alright, go wake her up.”

  “I hope she makes her burritos!” he shouted as he swung himself around and began hustling down the ladderwell. His voice echoed up as he descended. “I’m going to tell her to make her burritos!”

  I shook my head and looked back out the window. The Jayhawk was leaving with their patient, and my team was scattered, half on the beach and the other half still on the small boat. Now that the excitement was over, the only thing left to do was wait. There were probably less ideal places to be forced to wait than on a tropical island, so I was sure they were doing just fine out there. We weren’t due home for another couple of days, and with nothing else on our agenda, we had plenty of time to kill out here.

  An hour later, CS1 Hailey Jones poked her head up through the ladderwell.

  “Hey, boss,” she called out. “The burritos are ready.”

  I chuckled as I turned to face her. “Rogers talked you into the damn burritos, huh?”

  Jones shrugged goodnaturedly. “It didn’t take much convincing. They’re easy to make, and I did just wake up.”

  “Good point,” I acknowledged. “Are they packed?”

  “Yep, They’re ready to go.” She hung precariously on the railing and yawned silently. I knew she was ready to climb back into her rack.

  “Do me one more favor before you turn in?” I asked, knowing she wasn’t going to be happy, but she’d agree to anything I asked.

  “Name it,” she grinned. Her eyes looked tired, but she didn’t let it show otherwise.

  “Send Rogers back up here, and wake up XO. I’m heading out when they pick up the burritos. I want to be there when law enforcement arrives.”

  Jones looked taken aback, which didn’t surprise me. The Commanding Officer didn’t usually leave the cutter, but I felt this was an extenuating circumstance. Someone had died, and we were first on the scene. I didn’t want my team subject to any unnecessary scrutiny without me there to protect them.

  “Sure thing, boss,” she called out as she descended the ladderwell. “The burritos are sitting in the galley when you’re ready!”

  Minutes later, Rogers resurfaced with his own mug of coffee, and XO was right behind him. XO was new to the boat, as he had stepped into the role when I was promoted. The two of us were still getting a rhythm going, but so far, I liked him. He was always willing to help, whether it was me or the nonrates.

  “What’s going on, Lieutenant?” he asked as he walked over to join me at the helm. He took the empty seat beside me, the large, cushioned chair swallowing his rail-thin frame.

  “I’m getting on the small boat. I want to be on the scene when law enforcement arrives. I need you up here at the helm.” I slid off my seat and held my hand over the intercom as I awaited his response.

  “Not a problem,” he replied nonchalantly. “Isn’t that, I don’t know, unusual, though?”

 
; “Yeah, probably,” I agreed, “but there’s a dead body out there, so this entire situation is unusual, don’t you think?”

  I was asking for his opinion, but he read my question as rhetorical.

  “I’m here for you, boss,” he replied cheerfully, turning toward the helm. “You go ahead. I’ve got this.”

  “Thanks,” I nodded. I quickly jammed on the intercom. “Hey, Murph.”

  “What’s going on, boss?” he replied.

  “I need you to swing back and pick me up,” I informed him. “Also, I have burritos.”

  “Say no more,” he said with a laugh.

  I looked out the window and saw some commotion as my team shouted across the shallow water to each other. Someone waded back toward the small boat which I thought was wise. With Perez at the helm and Murph on communications, someone needed to be on the boat with them ready to defend it if necessary.

  As the small boat drew nearer, I saw that it was Slade who had volunteered to hop back on board. I headed down to the mess deck and swiped the bag of burritos off the counter in the galley. As I made my way out to the main deck to meet the small boat, I took a minute to appreciate my team. They were always good at thinking on their feet, no matter what situation they were thrown into.

  “Burritos!” Slade shouted as they pulled the small boat in. I let out a hearty laugh as I handed the bag over and climbed on board.

  “Smart of you to leave Sanchez behind,” I assessed as Slade helped me get settled. Perez headed back toward the island immediately as Slade stuck her nose in the bag and took a deep inhale.

  “Yeah, we figured a Chief would be the best person to be standing there in case anyone showed up while we were on a burrito run,” she chuckled. “What are you doing out here, anyway?”

  I shrugged. “I feel that since this is an unusual situation, I should be on scene when they arrive. I don’t need you guys catching the brunt of this thing.”

  “Ahh, face it,” Murph called out behind him, his voice muffled in the damp wind that whipped our faces. “You just miss riding with us.”