Tortugas Rising (6 page)

Water arced from the rear of the boat as the Sea-Doo Islandia skimmed across the water. The vessel’s shallow draft made the jet-boat the perfect inter-island transport. The archipelago’s islands had been plotted and reclaimed in a pattern that reduced the wave activity within the chain, and allowed the smaller craft a smoother ride on the channels.

Steve watched the islands fly by as Katherine piloted the craft. The topography of each personal paradise differed according to the taste of the owner. However, every one was extravagantly landscaped to the last twig and berry. No single island was more than a year old and yet each looked as if the plants had taken root and sprouted years ago.

“We’re almost there.” Katherine had given no hint of where they were headed. Nor had she let up on the throttle since they had stepped in the boat.

“Where?” Steve had to shout to be heard.

“The edge of ImagiNation.” She pointed ahead.

Steve laughed and she joined him.

“No, really.” She watched the water ahead of the boat.

Steve looked over the bow of the small watercraft and saw the channel widen before them into the open waters of the Gulf of Mexico.

Katherine killed the engine and they drifted onto the beach of the southern channel island. It wasn’t finished. The earth here was dark and thick, unlike the fine white sand that he had seen on every other island they had passed.

“Welcome to your island.” She grabbed his hand and led him out of the boat. She ushered him onto the beach. He did not resist. Instead, he focused on the touch of her hand.

It was like in the old songs, before swearing and other dirty lyrics were allowed – a spark from the simple contact of this other person’s hand delighted him.

She pulled him along to the western-most point of the island.

“Here’s one of the best features,” she was almost whispering. “It’s the perfect island to watch the sunset.”

“Why is that?” Steve shifted his feet in the claylike soil.

“No bugs yet, for one. Two,” she pointed out to sea.

Steve looked back toward the western sky. Oranges and purples layered the horizon and the sun melted into the sea. All was quiet. The lapping of the waves disappeared. The rocking of the boat against the sand was distant to him. He stepped closer to the girl, and put his arm around her waist.

They watched as nature seduced them both and let themselves be taken in by the turn of another day.

“I try to come out here every night. It takes away the pressure and aggravation of the day. As if my troubles set with it. With all the unreasonable requests, endless paperwork, and dirty limericks I deal with, I like to come out here where I know I’m alone.”

Steve turned to her. Her dark eyes smoldered as the breeze blew her hair across her face. “You’re not alone.”

“I’m as alone as I want to be.”

He took her face in his hand and leaned in. Their lips met, their eyes closed, and the roar of an engine tore them apart.

Startled, they broke their embrace. The disturbance had come from the far side of the island. Steve turned. The beach was wide but not deep. It rose quickly to a slope not far behind them. The engine died and men’s voices began to rise.

Still close, Katherine whispered, “I don’t think anyone’s supposed to be here.”

“Guests?”

“They should all be at the dinner reception.”

“Security?”

“Possibly. But I would be surprised. They usually stay on the patrol boats unless a private alarm has been triggered. This island is still being reclaimed and the work crew is on leave for another couple of days.”

Steve crawled to the top of the muddy embankment and peered over its crest. A small group of men clad in black scurried about. Each was armed.

Across the island in the growing moonlight, Steve made out a boat with a black hull beached on the shore. Four men wrestled a large crate from the deck and shoved it toward the center of the island. Another man, weapon in hand, walked slowly toward Steve and Katherine.

Bennett scrambled back down the hill. His palms filled with wet clay.

“We should run.”

They made it to the jet-boat quietly, the damp earth masking their footfalls. Katherine leapt into the cockpit of the Sea-Doo; Steve pushed it back out to the channel. As he pushed on the lip of the boat and pointed the hull upstream, the waves fought against them and threatened to force them back to the island.

“Steve.” She wasn’t whispering anymore. It was of no use.

The black clad figure stood above them on the hill of the beach. The barrel of his weapon was trained on Bennett. A slight shake of the gun indicated that the man wanted them back on the island.

Steve dropped his head in surrender and gripped the side of the boat until his hand turned white. Mud oozed from the lines of his palm. He whispered frantically. “Go, go, go, go!”

The wail of the Sea-Doo drowned out his voice.

Shock caused hesitation, and the gunman stumbled to find the trigger. The delay was enough for the water-jet to force the boat into motion.

Steve strangled the rail of the craft and tried to lift himself as far out of the water as possible. It wasn’t far enough. The drag on his body turned the craft back toward the island as the water forced him below the surface.

There was a banging; he wasn’t sure if it was gunfire or parts of his body being forced into the hull. His heels danced below the waterline. He gasped for air; water rushed into his mouth and forced its way into his lungs. He coughed and tried desperately to breathe as he strained his arms to pull himself free of the water’s grasp.

Bullets chased after the fast-moving craft, but the gunman’s window was short and his balance was off. Earth dug from the Intracoastal Waterway mixed with the pounding of the surf did not make for sure footing.

The jet-boat quickly turned the bend. The black boat was in the water and throttling up.

Steve suddenly found himself able to breathe and it was only then he realized that the boat had slowed. A hand touched his. He looked up to see Katherine motioning him into the boat.

“They’re coming!”

Steve pulled himself over the side as she tugged at his shirt and shorts to help drag him in. With his feet still in the water he shouted at her, “Go!”

The sudden lurch of the Sea-Doo rolled him on the floor of the sun deck as the craft accelerated.

A series of coughs drove the seawater from his lungs. The sensation made him dizzy and he struggled to focus.

“They’re right behind us,” Katherine yelled as she wrestled the wheel back and forth to dodge bullets she could not see.

Steve pulled himself into the passenger seat and looked aft. The dark boat was gaining. Fast.

“Keep turning! Stay out of the main channel. I don’t think we can outrun them!” Steve fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone. The touch screen remained dark. He rubbed its glass facing against his wet shirt and tried it again. “My phone is soaked. Where’s yours?”

“There’s no service here.”

Frustrated, Steve shoved the iPhone back into his pocket. It was the one purchase he had actually enjoyed making with his father’s money.

With every turn the nimble Sea-Doo pulled away from its pursuers, but with every straightaway they lost ground.

“This isn’t good.” Katherine screamed back at him. Her piloting skills were amazing. Though he was being tossed about the cockpit, Steve never felt that the craft was out of control. She was amazing; but it wasn’t enough.

Katherine veered again into another tributary of the main channel. The primary causeway would take them to Master Key and the rescue of ImagiNation’s security forces. But, out-powered, they had no way of staying in the channel for more than a short distance. If they weren’t turning they were losing the chase.

Steve tried to stand and put a hand on her shoulder, “I have an idea. Head into the main channel.”

“They’ll catch up.”

“Right. Trade places with me and hold on tight.”

Katherine didn’t budge. “Have you ever driven a boat like this?”

“No. But Paul made me rent a jet ski a few months ago.”

She stared at him but did not take her hand off the wheel.

“Trust me.”

Gunshots spouted geysers behind them. The dark craft was close. Only her erratic turns kept the gunfire from being lethal.

Katherine turned into the main channel and pointed the boat at Master Key. She let go of the wheel and traded places with the man she barely knew and put her life in his hands.

“Hold on tight,” Steve crashed down in the pilot seat and gripped the throttle. It was already pushed to the stops, but he pushed it harder pleading for every bit of speed the engine had in it.

The shots came closer and Bennett swerved to cause a sway in the wake that would hopefully throw off their pursuers’ aim. He straightened and pulled closer to the left bank of the channel.

The dark craft gained. Every moment brought their pursuers closer. The boat settled into the wake of the smaller craft and pushed the twin engines of the boat to overtake the smaller craft.

“Hold on, Katherine. They’re almost on us.”

The dark craft loomed behind them for only a moment. They had jumped Steve’s wake and run wide, but quickly pulled alongside the jet-boat.

“Steve!” She could see the barrel of the gun pointing right into the cockpit of the Sea-Doo. Bennett was watching the other side of the boat. There it was.

Bennett cranked the wheel and reversed the throttle. The nose of the boat dove into the water throwing Steve and Katherine into the dash; the rear of the boat continued its momentum, trading places with the bow. The jet-boat came to a stop in a distance less than the length of its hull.

The dark and powerful boat sped past the stopped craft; the advantage of its speed turned against it.

Bennett thrust the throttle forward and turned into the channel tributary. They had gained time and distance on their pursuers, and Steve was not about to waste it.

Katherine let go of the handle grip. Her fingernails had cut the plastic coating, and her fingers hurt as she uncurled them. She gasped at the maneuver, knowing that the only person more surprised that it worked than her was the man behind the wheel.

She stared at him as he watched the water before them. She reached over and touched his hand. “I can’t believe that worked.”

When he glanced at her, she was smiling. “Me either.”

They wove in and out around several islands before they felt confident enough to turn the engine off and listen. They heard nothing. They strained to hear the other boat’s engine, but it seemed clear they had lost it in the chase. The Sea-Doo drifted, the gentle slap of the waves against the hull was the only sound. Steve reached for the key to restart the ignition.

The faint sound of a distant engine piqued their ears. It grew louder.

Steve scrambled to turn the key but lost it in his panic. He padded around the dashboard trying to find it.

The approaching engine roared and the boat came around the corner of the nearby island. Steve focused and found the key, but, before he could turn it, the boat was upon them and slowing.

It was different. Smaller. The boat drifted next to the jet-boat and the engine died. He had seen it and others like it at the dock – an ImagiNation water taxi. A figure appeared in the canopy’s opening.

“You know boats are surprisingly easy to hot-wire.”

“Paul! Thank god you’re… you stole a boat?”

“You left me alone. I needed something to do.”

“Is there a radio in that thing?”

“Yeah, but I think we’re too far from Key West to get FM. And, you two look like you’re doing fine without the soft music.”

Steve hadn’t even noticed that Katherine had grabbed his arm when they first heard Paul’s boat. “Call security! We’ve been shot at.”

“Get in the boat.” Paul’s constant smirk vanished. With the order given, he disappeared into the cabin.

Steve jumped into the ImagiNation water taxi, and helped Katherine aboard. As she boarded he asked, “Can you work the radio?”

“Yes.” She moved forward to the cabin.

“Who shot at you?” Paul moved from one side of the passenger craft to the other, peering into the now black night.

“Don’t know. They dressed in black, shot guns, and didn’t give their names.”

Katherine studied the radio and flicked the power switch several times. “Nothing. The radio is dead. Almost as if it’s shorted out.” She turned to Paul. Paul could feel her stare. Steve was glaring as well.

“Okay, so, maybe it’s not as easy to hot-wire a boat as I thought.”

“Back into the Sea-Doo. It’s got to be faster than this thing. Chances are they still haven’t a clue as to where we are.” Steve ushered Katherine out of the water taxi. Paul moved forward to the cabin.

“Now, Paul.”

“Go ahead. Just let me get this thing moving in the other direction. Then come and get me.” He moved toward the cabin and Steve jumped back into the Sea-Doo. He waited for Paul to start the taxi’s engine, and turned the key on the Islandia. The water taxi’s engine roared and it began to move. A moment later Paul was in the water. Steve pulled alongside and fished his friend from the Gulf.