The Raft (5 page)

“What?”

“Stop saying 'what' and 'who' and hold the
helm!” Maggie stepped up and out of the cockpit, letting go of the
wheel. Rachael lurched forward, catching the wheel in both hands.
She had no idea how to steer a boat. She vaguely knew it worked in
no way like a car.

Maggie scampered on her hands and knees up to
the bow. The thin boat was twenty yards in front of them now, lost
in the drizzle. Maggie opened the bow hatch and pushed the top half
of her body through, letting her legs kick up into the air. She
came back up, trailing a pump action shotgun in her left hand. She
stood up, feet spread wide apart at the pulpit and cycled the
action of her weapon.

“Chemical Ali, you son of a bitch! Come
about!” she screamed into the cold air.

There was no answer.

“Ali, you goddamn fool! This is Maggie! And
you better consider yourself under arrest, you piece of shit! Cut
your engines and prepare for boarders, or God help me!”

“Ya can't arrest me!” a heavily accented
voice spoke up from the fleeing vessel. There was only the voice,
no sign of its owner. “I ain't no member of ya court!”

In answer, Maggie lowered her shotgun. She
fired of a shot, taking the recoil of the gun handily with her
weight leaning forward. The blast of buckshot ruptured a large
water tank to the port side of the narrow vessel. A torrent of
fresh water poured out onto the deck.

Rachael ducked down behind the helm.

“You crazy bitch!” the voice came again.

Maggie rested the shotgun in the curve of her
hip. She cycled the action with a single hand and expertly caught
the thrown shell with the other. “Cut that motor or the next round
will be in your ass, Chemical!”

In the drizzle, the incessant whir of the
two-stroke died.

Rachael braved a quick glance over the
helm.

“Bring me in abaft,” Maggie said to Rachael's
terrified pair of eyes. She was threading the shotgun carefully
back through the bow hatch. “Then cut the engine. Understand?
Rachael?”

Rachael hurriedly nodded.

Back on her feet, Maggie climbed over the
grab rail and hung out over the water from the very tip of pulpit.
When Chemical's vessel came within reach, she sprang forward,
catching hold of the ruptured water tank, still spouting water.

Rachael cut the engine. It took her two
attempts, but she quickly deduced the control that was the
throttle. There was an interminable period of silence as Maggie
disappeared in amongst the cluttered deck of Chemical's craft. Then
a thump, followed by an earsplitting crash. There were a few
screams and Rachael began to panic. The
Soft Cell
was
drifting from the stern of the other craft, Rachael began to stab
at the controls to bring her back into position. The helm was
infuriatingly complex. She pushed the throttle forward and got no
response. She pounded it with her fist and felt like she was about
to cry. Then, to Rachael's infinite relief, Maggie appeared on the
deck of Chemical's vessel. All one-hundred-and-forty pounds of
Maggie had a muscular two-hundred-and-twenty of bloodied-nosed,
baggy-pant gangster in tow.

With a calm moment to inspect the control
panel, Rachael noted Maggie's helpful reminders scrawled in black
Sharpie here and there on the console. Her lips moved as she read,
she soon had the engine restarted and the boat puttering forward,
closing on the stern of the second vessel.

“You crazy bitch!” Chemical Ali G repeated as
Maggie pushed him off of his own craft. He crashed down onto the
deck of the
Soft Cell
. Maggie sprang on him, dragging him
forward to the pulpit and zip-tying his wrists to the grab rail.
“Ya goddamn, crazy-”

Maggie slapped him hard on the side of the
head. Rachael winced. “Enough,” Maggie instructed, wagging a stern
finger at the brutalized Chemical.

Chemical evaluated his compromised position
and decided to keep his mouth shut.

He was young, perhaps no older than Meerkat,
with a head of dyed blond hair and a small black goatee. He was all
muscles under his white undershirt, for all appearances a tough
character. Rachael marveled that Maggie had been able to handle him
so convincingly.

“He's injured,” Rachael said with concern,
not moving from her spot behind the helm.

“Crazy son of a bitch tried to stab me,”
Maggie held up her bare left forearm, showing it to Rachael. She
was bleeding, too. “I had to hit him with the closest thing at
hand.”

“Yeah, a friggin' frying pan. I think me nose
is broke,” Chemical complained in his thick Cockney accent.

“Serves you right!” Maggie spat.

“Ya attacked me, you crazy slapper! Chasin'
me down and comin' onto
me
boat. Ya got no right!”

“I got every goddamn right,” Maggie replied
dryly, tending to the cut on her arm.

“You ain't holdin' me franchise. You kicked
me out, 'member? For not paying me fines.” Chemical Ali G rolled up
a wad of blood in his mouth and spat it overboard. Rachael had
dodged down into the cabin and returned with some dish towels. One
she handed to Maggie and the other she tentatively used to wipe
Chemical's face.

“Did you have to hit him so hard?” Rachael
asked, wiping Chemical's mouth.

“He was a fleeing felon.” Maggie wrapped the
towel around her forearm.

“I ain't!” Chemical protested. “I ain't done
nothin' wrong!” He struggled against his zip ties. Rachael,
surprised, stepped back. Up close and agitated, Chemical was even
more intimidating than Rachael had first feared.

“With Meerkat dead and the Brontosaurus on
the run, I'm sure you're an accessory to something, Ali.”

A cold chill suddenly hit the bound man.
“What?” he asked.

“Accessory to something: murder, evading
arrest, withholding information. I'll have to think of
something.”

“No, what was that 'bout Meerkat?” Chemical
said with cold intensity. Maggie looked up from tending her arm and
exchanged a glance with Rachael.

“He doesn't know,” Rachael muttered.

Maggie's shoulders deflated. She tied off the
dish towel on her arm and turned to Chemical.

“What? What happened to Meerkat?
Tell
me
.” Chemical demanded.

“She washed up onshore this morning,” Maggie
said flatly. “She'd been in the water for maybe half the
night.”

“No, no...” Chemical said in disbelief. “No!”
He struggled again at his bonds.

“Don't make me hit you again!” Maggie showed
Chemical the back of her good hand.

“Maggie!” Rachael scolded, stepping between
the two of them. She turned to Chemical and spoke softly. “That's
what we were doing on Horus's boat: looking for him. You really
didn't know anything about it?”

“Nah, nothin'. Oh God, Meerkat...” The white
pallor of Chemical's skin told Rachael he wasn't lying.

“Horus has fled to the dryland. He's our
prime suspect.”

“Nah, no. He'd never,” Chemical muttered. “He
loved her... loved her...”

Rachael turned to look at Maggie.

“Was Meerkat... pregnant?” Maggie asked,
returning Rachael's gaze.

“What?” Chemical grunted with what appeared
to be genuine surprise. Rachael could almost see the wheels in his
head turning. When the right cog fit into the right slot, he again
began thrashing at his zip ties. “Come on, Maggie, let me go! I'm
done causin' any palaver. Cut me loose. Hey, darlin',” he addressed
Rachael. “Have a heart...”

“What is it, Ali? What is it? Was she
pregnant?” Maggie asked again.

“Nah, nah... come on, Maggie, you know you
can't hold me like this. Let's call this all a misunderstandin' and
cut me loose, ah?”

“If you're covering for Horus, Chemical, I'll
make sure you get it good, just as bad as Horus. You want me to
hand you over to the dryfoot cops? How many warrants do you have
outstanding on the dryland, huh? Chemical? You want to think about
what they'd do to you if they caught wind of what you and Horus
have been up to? And let's not forget accessory to murder after the
fact. You remember the inside of a dryfoot prison? I bet you do.
No, you're going to sit there and like it and tell me what it is
that's got you so excited all of a sudden. Was Meerkat having some
other man's child? Someone other than Horus? Is that why he flew
off the handle? Threw her overboard?”

“I-I-” Chemical stammered.

“I'm running out of patience, you limey
snot...” Maggie inspected the cut on her forearm. Chemical's eyes
grew large and round.

All of a sudden, he couldn't get the words
out fast enough. “Look, I don't know nothin', okay? I ain't tellin'
you nothin'. But it's like... ya know, big. Massive. If I tell ya
what I know, ya got to let me go, alright?”

“You're not -” Maggie began again to lecture
Chemical, but he interrupted her by pulling against the pulpit with
all his might. Something had him spooked, honest to goodness
scared, and he seemed willing to tear the
Soft Cell
apart to
escape.

“Okay, okay,” Maggie conceded. “Calm
down.”

And at the sound of Maggie's acquiesce,
Chemical visibly relaxed.

“What is it, Chemical?” Maggie asked.

“Alright, alright. Ya see, once or twice, ya
know, I took Meerkat along... you know, on a delivery...”

Maggie shook her head, missing Chemical's
point. “So what? She helped you deliver weed? To who?”

“To the dryland. Horus has been sending her
onshore, now and again, you see...”

“No. Why?”

“Well,” Chemical's tone became suddenly
conspiratorial. “And I ain't sayin' any of this, you understand.
You didn't hear nothin' from me. I don't know
nothin
',
alright? But accordin' to Horus, before Meerkat came out to the
Raft, she used to strip, ya know?”

Maggie shrugged. “So?”

“Well, so she had this customer back then, a
regular.”

“Yeah?” Maggie cocked an eyebrow, catching
on.

“And a few months ago, he comes callin'
again-”

“Ah, okay,” Maggie interrupted, rapidly
losing interest in Chemical's story.

“Nah, nah, you ain't heard the meat of it
yet, Maggie.”

“I've heard enough,” Maggie dismissed,
turning her attention to her injured arm.

“Nah, you harkin'? It weren't no professional
visit, this. He calls up Meerkat lookin' for a surrogate.”

“What was that?” Rachael shot back, suddenly
realizing she'd only been half listening.

“Surr-o-gate,” Chemical rolled around in his
mouth. “Ya know, young girls havin' babies for old slappers.”

“You're joking?” Maggie thought it was
humorous.

“Nah! Well, guess the wife of this geezer
can't have no more babies of her own. And the straight-up dryfoot
services have turned 'em away. Too old, or somethin'. Anyway, he's
lookin' for a healthy young girl. To, ya know,
plant his
seed
. And, out here, after all... well, everythin' is for sale
out here on the Raft...”

Maggie and Rachael exchanged confused
glances. Was Chemical Ali for real? He certainly seemed like an
unreliable witness. But his earnestness was compelling.

“'Cause Meerkat don't take none of this
seriously, but there's Horus whisperin' in her ear. Horus is a
smart one, he is. He sees the potential. Ya know, potential for
blackmail. They ain't talkin' about no clinical setup here, no. We
talking about old school insemination, if you know what I
mean.”

“And you were taking Meerkat to shore for
this?” Maggie seemed skeptical.

“Yeah, see, this dryfoot pigeon, he starts
payin' up, all callin' up Meerkat and shit, tryin' to hook up,
lookin' for more. Every time Meerkat goes to shore for a
treatment
, the more the pigeon wants more. And Meerkat keeps
jackin' up the price. We're talkin' cheddar here, ya know?”

“And Horus was okay with this?” Rachael
seemed appalled. “Prostituting his girlfriend?”

“Ah,” Chemical dismissed. “Can't be all that
hung up about that sort of thin' out here on the Raft, love.”

Rachael looked at Maggie disgusted. Maggie
shrugged.

“And this dryfoot pigeon?” Maggie pressed.
“Horus ever say who he was?”

And Chemical Ali G smiled. A wide, fat,
toothy grin. “Oh yeah, Horus was real proud. Says it was the
biggest, fattest pigeon that ever flew, if ya know what I
mean.”

“And?”

“And that's why you gotta promise to let me
go! This is serious shit, Maggie. Cut me loose.”

“Tell me first, then you can go back to your
junk.”

Chemical paused, licked his bloody lips as
his eyes darted back and forth conspiratorially. “Alright, but
these fellas are hard, you understand? You already seen what they
done to Meerkat.”

“Chemical,” Maggie was impatient.

“The dryfoot pigeon... Horus told me... that
it were... Hadian...”

“Who?” Maggie recoiled in genuine
incomprehension.

“What?” If Maggie was confused, Rachael was
blindsided. She was instantly able to place the name.

“
Senator
Hadian, yo,” Chemical
stressed.

Rachael and Maggie exchanged a pained,
wide-eyed look of panic.

Chapter 6

“This is insane!” Rachael rapidly fired.
Maggie and Rachael huddled at the stern of the
Soft Cell
for
a frantic conference, out of earshot of Chemical Ali G. The sun was
burning off the morning's cloud cover and Rachael shielded her eyes
to glare.

“It's bullshit,” Maggie replied. Despite her
muted tone, she packed plenty of emphasis into her vulgarity.
“Don't go making some sort of federal case out of this.”

“Federal case?” Rachael said in disbelief.
“He just said-”

“He just said nothing,” Maggie was trying to
keep her voice low and level. “And don't start pretending that that
moron knows any more about what's going on here than you and I
do.”