The Myriad Resistance (28 page)

Sloshing my way to the side on my knees, I brought one knee down on a battery lodged perpendicular in a groove on the floor of the boat. I howled in pain. Lurching sideways, I scooted on my hip until reaching the side. There I pulled myself up and peered over the side. Danny had a large tarp stretched out on the water's surface. Judging by the color and size, it was the one from his boat. The limbs and branches protruding from underneath were a dead giveaway as well. They also helped to keep it afloat. The tarp rocked like a large jellyfish on the pitching sea. The weight of the batteries piled in the center kept it somewhat steady.

Danny folded the four corners over the pile of batteries and then shouted in my direction.

“I'll be back!” he said as he disappeared beneath the waves, followed by a bubbly slurping sound as the tarp submerged behind him.

I watched as Danny and the tarp went under. It now resembled a large misshapen jellyfish descending into the eerie luminescent murkiness. The luminescence seemed to be getting brighter by the second. I saw the silhouette of a couple of large fish pass beneath me. I shuddered and withdrew from the side of the boat when I recognized one of the fish as being a shark. I cautiously peered over my tarp. The patrol boat was still moving on the same course all the others before it. How long would it be before they spotted the massive glow of the Impals and came to investigate … one minute, five minutes, ten seconds?

I had no clue. I kept my eyes trained on it, searching for any change, any course correction that might suggest they saw us.

“Why the hell was the Navy wasting this time and energy?”

It was not as if we expected an attack from a foreign enemy. Nor should we expect a flood of Impals sneaking into the country. That would be a foolish move on their part … unless forced to do so.

I knew it was a possibility. Some other countries wanted to put their metaphorical trash on our doorstep, knowing they would be put in the ultimate trash compactor. Europe was alleged to be more humane in their treatment of Impals. However, this was not the case with countries in our own hemisphere. Some of them could barely maintain their political and economic structure before the storm arrived. Their capacity was now pushed far past their respective limits. These countries would be beyond desperate.

Yes, my father would want to avoid that as much as he wanted to get rid of the ones already here. He was doing a service for America. He was doing a service for God by getting rid of these deceitful ‘demons.' Turning the Navy into a glorified border patrol was no stretch for him. I wondered how long it would be before anxiety overtook Europe. Humanity can become scarce in the presence of desperation. Were we really doing these Impals a favor, or were we delaying the inevitable?

As I watched the patrol boat, I did not notice the water around me was starting to get darker. It was like someone lowering a dimmer switch. When the boat approached our launch site, my heart froze. They almost come to a complete stop. They aimed their spotlights deep into the parking lot of Grandview Natural Preserve. I strained my eyes to see. After several torturous moments, I breathed a sigh of relief. The trucks were all gone.

The plan was that once Danny and I were away, everyone would return to their respective bases. Except for Derek, who would wait on the Hampton Roads side of the bridge for us? It seemed it would only be me slipping out now.

Soon, the patrol boat moved on, mimicking the same course as its predecessors. It wasn't until then I realized that I was sitting in the dark again. My boat still moved toward the bridge/tunnel. I leaned forward and peered into the water; it was as dark and murky as ever.

Looking up, I saw a dark shape looming above me, a short distance away. My blood ran cold with my initial reaction. I thought it was another tanker about to plow into me. When I recognized the large pilings underneath, I knew it was a long pier. It was the long fishing pier on the northwest side of the island marking the beginning of Thimble Shoals Channel. The bridge disappeared in front of me as the road dipped under the water, giving way to the beginning of over a mile of tunnel. A couple of flashing red lights marked the end of the pier, warning off any approaching ships. The pier extended out at least a couple of hundred yards from the rocky shores of the man-made island.

As we pulled even with the end of the pier, Danny's head popped up over the side of the boat. He more came through the edge of the boat than climbed over it. He then sat down across from me with a grin on his face that said, “Well, haven't we just had the shittiest luck?” I think that assessment is the understatement of the century. After several seconds of uncomfortable silence, I asked, “Are you okay?”

He regarded at me with a serene expression and then the corners of his mouth began to slowly turn up. His answer shocked me.

“I am terrific,” he said with sincerity. “I don't think I have ever felt better in my whole life.”

“Are
you
okay?” I asked, tapping my finger on my forehead.

Almost on cue, a loud metallic scraping echoed underneath the pier. The crumpled remains of Danny's boat banged about on the rocks in the swell of the surf. Even in the shadow of the pier, it was still recognizable from the ambient walkway lighting above. He stared at the twisted hunk of metal with his former arm protruding from it. A frown washed over his face and he turned back to face me.

“I don't know why everyone is so worried about dying,” he said in a matter–of-fact tone. “There's nothing to it.”

I was incredulous. Aside from taxes, dying was the largest concern of mortal man. Of course, Danny was not mortal anymore. I glanced back over at the wrecked boat as it made contact again with the rocks again.

“What's better?” Danny asked. “That,” he said pointing at his boat, the arm flapping against the side. “Or this?” he said, taking his same arm and moving it back and forth through the side of the boat.

I didn't know what to say.

“I don't have an ounce of pain anywhere in me right now and I have never had so much energy. I feel invincible,” he said.

I suspect he was right, unless he came up against iron or … the Tesla Gate.

“So what are you going to do?” I asked.

The question sounded vague, yet Danny understood my meaning.

“As soon as we get them safely on the boat, I'm retiring from running the Impal Underground Railroad. I'm going with them.”

“So what's the plan now?” I asked.

“I left the tarp lying beside the tunnel down there. They are supposed to drop their batteries before going in … then I'm going to lug them up here.”

“You can see the tunnel?” I asked.

“Not really, but you can tell where it is. There's a rock pile over the top that makes it kinda stick out.”

I paused for a moment, trying to recover from my shock and absorb everything Danny was telling me.

“So … how are you going to get the batteries up here?” I asked. “Won't the tarp be kinda heavy? The water has to weigh a ton.”

“Well …” Danny said. “I have that figured out; at least I think I do.” He flexed his biceps like a bodybuilder showing off his physique. “I feel a lot stronger now. I haven't put it to the test quite yet. I think between the two of us we can handle it.”

I'm pretty sure my face turned white. I couldn't believe Danny wanted me to go down there with him and help him hoist up a tarp full of batteries. I was a decent swimmer, not a strong one. I hadn't participated in a breath holding contest since I was a kid. I think even back then my personal best time was a little over a minute. I didn't see how I could be of any assistance unless I was, well … unless I was like Danny. I had no desire to ‘give up the ghost' just yet. Besides, I need to get back to my family. Danny read my apprehension and gave a hearty laugh in the metallic Impal timbre. As always, I shivered.

“Relax, Cecil,” he said. “With my plan you won't even have to get wet!”

A few moments later, our momentum and the current brought us to an abrupt halt on the rocky shore of the island. To our right, the fishing pier towered about twenty-feet overhead. I could barely make out the rooftop to a brick building beyond it. I recognized the building as the sole restaurant and visitor center on the vast expanse of the Chesapeake Bridge-Tunnel. There was open ocean to our left. In the distance, was the other end of the tunnel where the road snaked out from the water like a sea serpent. The bridge continued a little over a mile away. I was thankful the rain stopped. It made visibility a lot better, but the counterpoint to that was the wind had picked up. The rear of our boat bobbed up and down like a seesaw, as the bow remained lodged on the rocky shore. A cool wind began to blow over the surface of the water, chilling me to the bone in my soaked clothing. I wished more than anything that I was back with Barbara, lying together in some secluded mountain lodge in front of a roaring fireplace. Maybe it would be possible now that this was almost over. It's funny how discomfort and longing can manifest naivety in an otherwise rational mind.

Danny reached up and started messing with the now slack rope tied to the front of my boat. Either the Impals stopped and were waiting for instructions or they were now passing into the tunnel.

After a few frustrating moments, Danny turned to me.

“Can you help me out here?” he asked in a sheepish tone. “First day with the new fingers,” he said, wiggling the fingers on both his hands.

I scooted forward as Danny moved out of the way. There was not much room to maneuver in the tight proximity of my little boat and my left side brushed against him. I didn't think my skin could be any more chilled than it already was, but the frigid touch of an Impal was more intense than any cold. Our brief meeting almost took my breath away until Danny moved off, giving me plenty of room to work.

After a few quick tugs, I loosened the rope. Danny sprang forward and took it from me. He stood over me in the boat holding the end of the rope in both hands and scanned the pier above us. After a quick inspection, he turned to me.

“Take this end of the rope and go up there,” he said, holding the rope out to me. With the other hand, he pointed to the nearest railing on the pier.

I took the rope and peered up the slope. My heart skipped a beat when I considered having to make a twenty-foot climb on slippery pier pilings. Then I noticed how the rock shore sloped gently upward until the island and the pier met. It should be an easy climb, although it would require sure footing, unless I wanted to assist Danny down under the waves.

“I'm going to take the other end down here and weave it through the grommet holes of the tarp. We should be able to hoist it up using the railing up there like a makeshift block and tackle,” Danny said.

I was doubtful. No matter how tight he bound the tarp together, we would still have the issue of water collecting inside and it would increase the weight of our load.

“What about the water weight?” I asked.

Danny held out his hand.

“Give me your knife,” he said.

I pulled out my small pocketknife, and handed it to him. He took it and then asked me to open the blade for him. It seemed that tasks requiring nimble fingers were quite a challenge for Impals, at least new ones. I pulled out the longest one and handed it back to him. He reached over and grabbed my tarp, which dangled over the back of the boat, and began to slice chunks out of it. As soon as he carved out five or six substantial pieces, he handed them to me. I stared at him blankly. He held out his hands, palms up.

“Unless you want to burn the hide off your hands when we start pulling the tarp up, I would suggest wrapping your hands with these.”

He stood up, and then made a few upward poking motions with the knife. “Don't worry; I'm going to turn our tarp into one big ugly black colander.”

Without another word, he stepped through the side of the boat and disappeared beneath the churning waves.

CHAPTER 26

THE PIER AND THE PULLEY

“Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting.”

~J. M. Barrie

I sat in the boat for a long time, unable to move. I was in a compounded state of shock that started when I saw Danny crushed by the tanker. I didn't notice the metallic clang anymore. Still, his crumpled boat bounced about between the pier pilings like a ghoulish pinball. The shock increased when Danny showed up in his luminescent form like it was just another day at the office. However, I think what shocked me the most was he didn't seem to mind one bit. In fact, it might be accurate to say he relished it. I tried to put myself in his shoes and found the task impossible.

I would think I would be shaken up and a little stunned. This was true of the Impals I have witnessed leave their fleshy existence. The one commonality Danny and I did not share was that I had a family. They waited on me to return safely tonight. Danny did not, unless you counted a hostile ex-wife.

Danny was tough as nails and he didn't ascend to the rank of colonel being otherwise. I knew him to possess little fear of death. When we served in a few war zones overseas, he portrayed a calm and collected exterior. I guess that trait made it easier for him to embrace his current situation. I found myself pitying him for what happened and admiring his resolve in the same instant. He was indeed a hero and humanitarian in life and in death.

I knew it was going to take more than a few minutes of pondering to come to grips with the mortal loss of Danny and his curious rebirth. I pushed it to the back of my mind. Focusing on the task, I grasped the rope tight, wrapping it around my hand for purchase. I then stuffed the strips of tarp into my pocket. I felt like a man attempting a net-less tightrope walk as I gingerly stepped out of the boat and onto the wet and slippery shore.

After almost teetering backwards a couple of time, I completed my climb on hands and knees, clinging to the rocks for dear life. The wind whipped through my hair, making it impossible to hear anything. I guess that's why I didn't hear Danny at first when he resurfaced.