Authors: Stella Kelly
Blythe bit her lip. “Sorry, you’re right.”
“Besides, my brother Noki says most violent
crime’s committed in Hawaii are done with legally registered firearms that
somehow exchanged hands illegally.”
“So those guns could all have been registered
here and they’re just using them to trade for something else? Like drugs?”
Mak shook his head. “No way. Like I said,
machine guns are illegal in Hawaii. There’s no way to register one even if you
wanted to. Same goes for stun guns, silencers, hand grenades, and Teflon coated
ammunition.”
Blythe didn’t like the sound of that. Could
these guys be using Teflon coated ammunition? Was that how she was going to
die? And what exactly did Teflon do to you once it was inside you? She
shuddered.
They looked ahead in silence for a while,
watching as the men checked a few more crates and then nailed them back
together. The Asian man walked around with his phone taking photos of the
serial numbers on the side of each crate for inventory.
“With our strict gun laws, it’s a slap in the
face if you ask me. They’re doing this right under the authorities noses.”
“Isn’t that the point of smuggling?” Blythe
asked.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“There’s a lot of movement down there now. The
exchange is almost over and the other guys should be getting back on their boat
soon.” Mak stood and paced around the smoldering fire. He kicked dirt onto the last
of the embers, helping it along. “This could be our only chance to call for
help while they’re distracted by the exchange.”
“What are you saying exactly?” Blythe’s panic
spiked as she searched his eyes. A nagging anxiety crept in before he’d even
uttered a word.
“I’m going down there.”
“Where?” she hissed.
“Down to our boat. I’ll use the CB to call for
help and then run back here without being seen. I can do it.”
Blythe shook her head violently. “No way. Not
going to happen. Please, Mak, don’t!”
“I have to. It’s our only hope.”
“Then I’m coming with you. Please, I can’t stay
here and wait to die. I can help,” she implored.
Mak
stood motionless as he thought it through. “Okay, lets do this. We have nothing
to lose. I want you to stay close to me, right on my heels, got it?”
Blythe nodded. She was psyching herself up for
it, taking deep breaths like she was about to run a sprint race. Mak guided her
to the edge of the boulders and brought her down to a low crouch at his side.
“We’ll run down to the right, over that grassy ridge, and straight down to the
boat.” Mak moved his hand with each direction, like a football coach going over
maneuvers. He suddenly hesitated, realizing Big Lou may have been placed in the
boat they came in. “On second thought, maybe I’ll go alone.”
“Why? I want to go too!” Blythe demanded.
How could he say this gently? “Blythe, they may
have placed Lou on our boat. You can’t come. I can’t chance you seeing him. I’m
going alone.” Leaning back, he grabbed the gun, cocked it, and shoved it into
her hands. “If anything happens to me, you’ll have this. Just stay here and
wait until the Coast Guard comes. I’ll do everything in my power to reach that
CB. Got it?”
“No, I can’t. Don’t leave me here, Mak.”
Mak grabbed her around the back of the neck and
pulled her face close, his eyes intense. “I have to do this. You know that. I
have to save you.” He kissed her forcefully, as if creating a lasting memory of
her touch on his lips. Mak could feel the tension emanate from her. Her body
language was ridged and her face held a stony, accepting expression. She was
getting better at controlling her reactions, which impressed him
immensely.
Releasing her, he stood and straightened, raking
a hand through his hair and doing a visual search of the boat area. He wouldn’t
meet her steadfast stare, but he was highly aware of her eyes burning into him
pleadingly. It was as if he’d slipped into a warrior’s trance.
“Please, Mak, don’t do this.” Tears flowed down
her face.
“It’s our only hope, Blythe. My brother has
warned me about guys like these. We could be dealing with high-level members of
a crime ring, each one a potential convicted felon with years of jail time
– and years of shady wisdom learned in that environment. They’ve got
nothing to lose, everything to gain by our disappearance.”
She swallowed hard, her body shivering.
“Once the other guys leave, they’ll hunt us down
until they find us and I’m not going to let that happen.”
“If we don’t make it off this island, I’m happy
to have known you,” Blythe said with eyes closed. Opening them, she brought her
gaze up as Mak reached out a hand and caressed her cheek.
“You too. But know one thing. Look at me.”
Her eyes searched his.
“We’re making it out of here. The fun we’ll have
together is only just beginning. We’ve got unfinished business, Blythe.”
He wasn’t kidding
, she thought, though she was touched by his
words.
Chapter
Nineteen
Mak kissed her forehead, his lips lingering for a
moment before he ran away without looking back. Not wanting to pinpoint their
hideout, he traversed down behind the lookout and doubled back around the side
opposite the smugglers. Heading over the nearest ridge, he stopped and glanced
up toward her. Although he couldn’t see her, he knew she’d be watching so he
waved to reassure her.
He told
himself he was doing this to get help and rescue them, but in reality he knew
he had to save Blythe at any cost, even if he took himself out in the process.
As long as he contacted the Coast Guard, she’d make it. They’d come and rescue
her in no time. He was willing to sacrifice himself for her, that’s how much he
cared. He couldn’t deny it, not anymore. He couldn’t have what he wanted
anyway, the curse made sure of that. The closer he got to Blythe the worse off
they seemed to be. If he made love to her, professed his love, they were sure
to die. This way, if he died she would be safe and have a fighting chance of
living a long, happy life – curse free.
Mak waited, assessing the best angle to run in
without being seen. If he stayed along the tall brush off the path, he could
creep across to the boat without being seen. He also risked blowing himself up.
Tough call. Either way he could die.
The smugglers were wrapping it up, some getting
into the now empty powerboat while the original men exchanged money. They were
quite a distance away and preoccupied, so he ran with everything he had toward
the boat. Running across the dock would get him seen for sure, so he waded into
the shallow waters, avoiding the jagged rocks and anything that looked like it
didn’t belong on a beach…like unexploded ordnance. Swimming silently around to
the other side of the fire department’s rescue boat, he treaded while gripping
the edge, bringing his weight up to the level of the boat’s side. Peering in,
he was relieved that Lou’s body was nowhere to be found. He didn’t think he
could handle seeing his friend like that, discarded like an inanimate object.
Checking that the coast was clear, Mak pulled
himself over with effortless finesse and crouched soundless into the back of
the boat. Slinking toward the front, he dropped to the floor unseen, dripping
salty water everywhere. He slicked his hair back from his face and held the CB
to his mouth. He tried to keep his voice steady, direct, yet as quiet as
possible. He knew he only had one shot at this.
“Mayday, mayday, mayday. Chief Makaio Kalani.
Kahoolawe Island. Man shot. Gun smugglers present. Send backup. Mayday, mayday,
mayday.”
Mak awaited a response. Nothing. He sent the
message again and then heard hollering. He brought his eyes above the side
rail, spotting one of the thugs walking casually toward the rescue boat. He
gingerly replaced the CB and searched for keys. If he could get the boat out
into open water without being shot, he could go for help. Thinking frantically,
he knew the idea wouldn’t fly…not without Blythe. He couldn’t leave her up on
Lua Makika stranded. Sure, he could signal for her somehow from the water, have
her run down toward the other side of the island where she could get on the
boat. But he knew her feet were already shredded and her energy was completely
drained. Even so, anyone was capable of digging deeper for that little extra if
it meant saving your life. He knew she could do it, he believed in her.
Even still, as Mak peered over the side again,
he knew he could never untie the boat without being seen and the keys were
nowhere to be found. The plan of escaping by rescue boat was futile.
Mak slipped over the side of the boat again and
waited, treading silently on the far side unseen. The not too distant drone of
a powerboat followed by the sudden buzz of acceleration told him the other
smugglers had left, the tiny waves that soon lapped against the side of the
rescue boat validating their departure. Bobbing in the waves as he clung to its
side, he waited what seemed like minutes but the man he’d seen earlier never
arrived. Bringing his face up again, he saw nothing and assumed the man had
gone back to the encampment. Gliding quietly through the water, Mak swam around
the boat the way he’d come and waded back up toward the shore. It was riskier
now with the diversion of the gun exchange over.
<><><>
Meanwhile,
Blythe had been watching Mak’s every move like a hawk through the binoculars.
Scanning back and forth from the smuggler’s encampment to Mak and back again
like a maniac, her senses were in overdrive. She was completely cognizant of
the risk he was taking for their benefit and her entire body ached for his
safety.
She’d held her breath as he’d waded into the
water, only to disappear around the rescue boat. She’d seen the boat lilt
slightly to indicate Mak had boarded, but other then that, the overhang covered
any trace of him. She now watched in breathless panic as one of the thugs made
his way down the path. Her blood ran cold when she realized it was her
attacker. He sauntered over toward the rescue boat, his head tilting slightly
as if he’d seen something suspicious. She followed his every move as he
approached, wondering if he’d seen Mak getting on.
“Dammit, Mak, get out of there!” she hissed in
frantic desperation. Swiveling the binoculars back toward the encampment, the
other two men still looked preoccupied with counting the stacks of bills in a
black duffel bag. They seemed none the wiser to their buddy’s curiosities.
Swiveling back toward Mak, Blythe saw the thug
crouch and run toward the tall brush near the shoreline. He stepped in and
hunkered down low as if hiding. It was then that she knew Mak was in serious
trouble. With no way to communicate with him, she was forced to sit still and
observe while her heart beat up into her throat. Swallowing was impossible.
Tears flowed involuntarily as she bore her eyes toward the boat, waiting for
Mak to emerge into an ambush, willing him to safety.
Seeing movement around the bow of the rescue
boat, her eyes followed Mak as he swam in cautiously before standing and wading
in the rest of the way. She felt completely helpless. There had to be something
she could do. But what? Once on shore, Mak crouched and ran toward the path,
looking around as if he too had seen the thug. He appeared leery, yet
completely oblivious to the man who hid a mere stone’s throw away in the
bushes. Like a helpless sniper trained on her mark, she fought down her rising
fear until it got the better of her.
“Mak, look out!” she screamed with all her
might.
It was no use. The distance, coupled with the
wind, robbed her voice and carried it away to a mere whisper.
The man emerged from the brush at Mak’s back and
punched him in the side. Mak doubled over, surprised and winded. A sinking
regret found Blythe’s gut, they should have killed the man when they’d had a
chance. Now it all came around full circle. He would kill Mak and she would be
next. The good guys would lose and the bad guys would walk away without a care
in the world. Life was never fair.
To her surprise, Mak straightened and dove for
the thug, knocking him into the brush. They rolled around as Mak punched and
flailed his muscular physique around until he had a vantage point. The big thug
cried out and Blythe heard it, the shrill cry carrying up on the wind. If she’d
heard it, surely it had perked the attention of the others. She swiveled the
binoculars toward the encampment. The two remaining thugs were now running in
Mak’s direction. Blythe swiveled back to Mak, overshooting him and losing sight
of him for a moment. Disoriented, she realigned the binoculars to face him. She
saw Mak’s back leaning over a limp, lifeless body in the brush. Mak stood and
backed away. He looked left, toward the approaching men in the distance and
took off running to the right. She watched in awe as Mak sprinted up the path,
passing the rescue boat they’d arrived on and rounding the rise of Lua Makika.
The two remaining smugglers were right on him, running as fast as they could to
catch him. Blythe clamored her way up the boulder, still clutching the
binoculars for dear life as she willed Mak’s feet to run faster. How could he
possibly escape? They had a clear shot of him for miles. There was no way he
could outrun them forever, or their bullets. Even if the thugs stood still and
fired, they’d hit their target. As if witnessing a horrible accident before it
even happened, in Blythe’s minds eye she could already see the outcome. She was
going to lose Mak.