Storm Surge (22 page)

Mercer did
nothing.

“See, here’s
the thing, Mercer. You’re mixing in things that are far above you. This is a
fight between very, very powerful people.
Movers and shakers.
The people who really run things, not a bunch of
Russkie
immigrants who’ve seen ‘The Godfather’ too many
times.
What I’m saying here,
Mercer,
is
you’re
way out of your league. Just like Deputy
Dawg
, that yokel you met up with, was out of his.
Smart move, using him as a decoy, by the way.
I mean, talk
about expendable. Don’t know as I would have trusted him with a gun, but I
guess you had no choice. I assume you’ve taken care of him.”

For the first
time, Mercer reached up and touched the mike button.
Click.

“Ah, you are
listening,” the voice said. “Good. Now maybe we can do some business. You have
something we need, Mercer. You’ve figured out that we need that generator to
finish our job with the safe. And you have the sparkplugs we need to make the
generator run. But what you don’t know is that we have something you’re
interested in. Something you’d like to have very much.
A way
off this island.
Interested?”

Mercer
hesitated,
then
touched the mike button. “I’m
listening.”

“We’ve got
boats, Mercer. Two of the finest, fastest inflatable rubber boats the Zodiac
Corporation makes. And enough engine to scoot you across the sound when the eye
gets here. And, thanks to you, we have some empty spaces. In fact, we can
squeeze everyone we have left into one of the two we brought. Now, I’ll admit,
you’ve irritated me more than a little. You’ve put me behind schedule. I don’t
know if we’re going to be able to get out of here before the eye passes. But
you can. You have no need to stay here. You can even take your playmates with
you. Mercer, this is not a fight you need to be having.”

“And the
minute we get out into open water, your guy in the lighthouse picks us off like
ducks in a shooting gallery,” Mercer said.

There was a
pause. “What makes you think we have anyone up there?”

“It’s what I
would do.”

“You’re a
smart guy, Mercer.
Which is all the more reason for you not
to get involved here.
And if you don’t mind my asking,
What
exactly is your problem, anyway? Why’d you stick your
nose in? Was it the woman and the girl?”

Mercer didn’t
answer.

“
Ahhhh
…” the voice said. “That’s it. The lady in our party
says you were shocked to find out she was a woman. Is that it? Got a soft spot
for the ladies? Our colleague was engaging in some fun and games you didn’t
approve of?”

“He needed
killing,” Mercer responded.

“I see. Well,
you certainly did that job. But that’s all a bit arrogant of you, don’t you
think? There’s a lot of people need killing who don’t get it. And a lot of
people get killed who don’t need it. You think you can set all that right?”

Mercer didn’t
answer.

“Never mind,”
the voice said, “that doesn’t get us past our problem, does it?
The problem of you not trusting me to keep my word.
That
I’ll let you and your friends go. How about this? You leave from the other end
of the island.
Away from the lighthouse.
Or from the construction docks.
The best sniper in the world
couldn’t make that shot.”

“I’ll think
about it.”

“Think hard,
Mercer. The water’s rising. The clock’s ticking. The eye will be here soon.
Keep this in mind, too: if we don’t have a deal, my other colleagues will be
looking for you. And they won’t be authorized to offer any deals. You take my
meaning?”

Mercer didn’t
answer. He just took the headphones off. He started walking back up the stairs,
slowly, occasionally turning back to watch the rising water.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

When he got to
the top of the stairs, Sharon was waiting, standing in the hallway like a
sentinel. “Who were you talking to?” she said.

He thought of
saying “no one.” He couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“I got one of
their headsets,” he said. “They want to make a deal.”

“What kind of
deal?”

“The
kind of deal where we walk into a trap and they kill all of us.”

“You don’t
trust them.”

“No. They
can’t afford to let anyone live who knows that they were here.”

“What the hell
do they want?” Her voice trembled slightly. She was on the ragged edge of
exhaustion, he realized.
Physical and emotional.
She
swayed a little, unsteady on her feet like a drunk.

“You need to
get some sleep,” he said.

“I’m fine.”

“No,” he said,
“you’re not.” He took her gently by the shoulder and started to turn her back
towards the bedroom. She reached up as if to brush his hand away. Instead, her
hand closed over his. They stood looking at each other like that for a moment.
He moved towards her. She took her hand off his and put it against his chest,
softly. “No,” she whispered. “
Not…not
now.”

“Not…now?” he
repeated.

She smiled
wearily at him. “If you could see your face…”

“What?”

“Well, we kind
of have other stuff to think about right now.” She chuckled, low.
“Bad timing, Mercer.”
She turned and walked back into the
bedroom. Mercer watched for a moment before he followed. Something had passed
between them. He wasn’t sure what, but things had changed. He stopped, then
went back to get the shotgun where he had propped it against the wall.

Bohler
was seated in an easy chair across
the room. He had his head in his hands. Glory was still sitting on the bed,
glaring daggers at him. The only illumination was the flickering candles. It
was a big room, but sealed in as it was, and with the oppressive humidity
everywhere, it suddenly seemed very small.

“Look,” Mercer
said. “I know you want to bring me in. But we’ve kind of got a bigger problem
right now. If we get you armed, will you promise not to do anything stupid?”

The deputy
looked sullen for a moment, then nodded.

Mercer went
on. “We’re stuck here for a while. The water’s rising outside. I don’t think
they’ll try to move on us until the eye passes over. But we need to set a watch
either way.” He looked at
Bohler
. “Can you take the
first watch?”

“Yeah,”
Bohler
said. “Am I supposed to do it unarmed?”

Mercer tossed
the shotgun to
Bohler
. “It’s only light shot,” he
said.
“For skeet.”

Bohler
looked at the gun sourly. “Great.”

“Well, it was
enough to scare you into almost shooting a teenaged girl,” Mercer said.

“How was I
supposed to…
”
Bohler
stopped,
his mouth a thin, angry line.

“You’ll
forgive me if I don’t completely trust you yet,” Mercer said. “If someone tries
to get in, get off a shot. I’ll come back you up.”

Bohler
just nodded, not speaking.

“Kyle,” Sharon
said. “You need to tell him.”

Bohler
looked confused. “Tell me what?”

Sharon was
looking at Mercer. “If we’re going to work together,” she said, “everybody has
to know what’s going on. Tell him what you told me.”

Mercer thought
a moment,
then
shrugged. “Okay.” He turned to
Bohler
. “They know I’ve got their radio,” he said. He
indicated the headset hanging around his neck. “The leader tried to make a
deal.”

Mercer was
startled by the expression of rage that crossed
Bohler’s
face. “What deal?”

“He says they
have a spare boat, now that they have a couple fewer men.” His smile was more
like a
baring
of teeth. “He offered to trade it for
the sparkplugs from the generator.”

“If we get
anywhere near them…”

“They’ll
ambush us and kill us all,” Mercer said. “We’re not doing that.”

“Who put you
in charge?”

“You want to
put it to a vote?” Mercer said.

Bohler
looked from Sharon to Glory, then
back to Mercer. His shoulders slumped. “No,” he said.

“Okay then. We
need to talk. You were in with them, right?”

“Right.”

“How
many?”

“There were
three men in the house with me, and the woman. There was one who was pretty
clearly the leader. There was another guy, the guy who took me prisoner. Then
there was…the one you killed.” He looked at Sharon. She didn’t react. “The
woman was some sort of technician. I think she was supposed to open the safe.”

“The safe,”
Mercer said. “What’s in it?”

“They never
said. I don’t think anyone but the leader really knows.”

“Any idea if
there’s anyone else?”

“The leader
spoke a couple of times on the radio. I think to someone in the lighthouse. Oh,
and by the way, I didn’t see any boats.”

Mercer nodded.
“I doubt that there are any,” he said. “Okay. Keep an eye on the front door
from the bottom of the stairs. Sharon, Glory, you stay here. I’ll be in the
guest room, down the hall.” He picked up a candle and made his way down the
hallway.
Bohler
followed as far as the stairs. Mercer
heard him stop. He turned, raising the machine gun slightly.
Bohler
had the shotgun down by his side.

“When we get
out of this,” he said, “I’m still putting you under arrest.”

“Whatever,”
Mercer said.
Bohler
went on down the stairs.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

After a half
hour, Mercer decided that sleep was going to be impossible, even though every
nerve in his body screamed for it. If the keening of the wind outside and the
waterfall roar of the deluge against the house wasn’t enough, his mind was
racing, trying to figure an angle, some way to keep them all alive. And his
memories kept intruding.

The new home
he'd been sent to after Miss
Earla's
was more
crowded, with three other boys and Mercer. One of the boys was a huge
dark-haired brute named
Dunkle
.
Dunkle
had the other two boys terrorized, particularly the youngest,
a
puny redheaded kid named Eric Teagarden.
Dunkle
pushed and baited the new kid, trying to get a rise
out of him that would lead to a fight. Mercer refused to respond, which seemed
to enrage
Dunkle
even more.

The third
night he was there, Mercer was up getting a drink of water in the upstairs
bathroom. He heard a door open and close, and saw
Dunkle
coming out of Teagarden’s room, buckling up his pants. He looked at Mercer, and
a nasty smile had crossed his face.

“He’s done in
for the night,”
Dunkle
said, “but maybe you can have
a piece of him tomorrow night.” Mercer could hear the soft sounds of weeping on
the other side of the door.
Dunkle
turned away and
walked down the hall to his room, an exaggerated swagger in his step.

Mercer had
long ago learned the value of being able to move quickly and silently, and he was
behind
Dunkle
before the older kid knew it. They were
at the top of the staircase that led down to the lower level where the foster
parents slept, blissfully and drunkenly unaware of what went on after they had
passed out. Mercer grabbed
Dunkle
and slung him down
the stairs.
Dunkle
didn’t cry out, but the sound of
him crashing down the stairs was like thunder. Then there was nothing.

Mercer stood
at the top of the stairwell, listening. He saw Teagarden’s pale frightened face
peek out from his room. The younger boy's eyes widened as he saw Mercer
standing there. He closed the door quickly. Mercer went back to bed.

The foster
parents found
Dunkle
the next morning, dead of a
broken neck at the foot of the stairs. “I didn’t hear
nothing
,”
Mercer had said. He looked at Teagarden, who was staring back at him with a
strange fascination.

“Neither did
I
,” Teagarden said finally.

He needed
killing
,
Mercer  was
going to say, but he didn’t. He didn’t
think anyone would understand.

The next week,
they moved him again, so the word of Miss
Earla’s
death didn’t reach him until two months after her funeral.

***

He heard
someone moving in the hallway and sat up. The gun was in his hand before he
realized he was reaching for it. He relaxed as he saw Sharon standing in the
doorway.