Landfall: Islands in the Aftermath (The Pulse Series Book 4) (10 page)

As they worked that morning to lower the masts, Larry was glad to see Grant display maturity and restraint by keeping well clear of Russell and avoiding interaction with him as much as possible. He noted too, that Russell made an effort to avoid getting too close to Jessica. Maybe that simple push that landed him on his ass taught him a lesson that would stick. Time would tell, but as it turned out, they were all relieved when Russell complained of being too tired to continue working and left to return to his camp and rest.
 

Jessica had been working close at his side as he made the plywood patches, and he could tell something was bothering her. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was more than Russell, because Jessica was avoiding Grant and Casey almost as much as she had the stranger before he quit for the day.
 

“I would go with you to look for Scully,” if that idiot wasn’t going.”

“I appreciate it, Jessica, but even if it weren’t for him, I’d hate to put you in that kind of danger. You’d be better off sticking with the group. We already know what all this splitting up has gotten us.”

“Yeah, but you’re about to do it again.”

“You know I have to. I can’t leave Scully behind.”

“Maybe he’s already on his way here? Maybe he will get here before you leave? That would be perfect.”

“It would, Jessica. But it’s not likely. I know I said he would make his way to the Bahamas eventually to look for us, but the chances of him finding us here on Green Cay are probably zero. First of all, he would try to go to the Dry Tortugas because he knew that’s where you guys were going to look for us. If he made it there and got turned away like us, he would probably go the Ragged Islands and Jumentos if he were able to make the crossing. But that would be extremely dangerous in the kayak. It’s practically dead to windward and there’s nowhere for him to stop, to break up the crossing to rest. I think he’ll be smart enough to wait a bit longer before he tries something that desperate. He knows I won’t leave and go somewhere else we hadn’t talked about without doing everything in my power to find him. So I’ve got to believe there’s a good chance I’ll find him in the Keys.”
 

“I hope you do. I just wanted to help, that’s all.”

“I figured you might want a break from sailing after being at sea so long. This is a pretty nice cay to hang out on for a while. It’ll be a lot better when I leave with Russell.”

“I don’t know if it will or not,” Jessica looked away. Larry could tell she was upset about something.

“What’s the deal, Jessica? Is this about my niece being back in the picture?”
 

Jessica wouldn’t say, but Larry already knew. He knew from what Artie told him of the voyage that Jessica had clung to Grant the whole way. It was understandable that she didn’t want to share his attention with Casey when they were all reunited here. Larry had seen this coming for a long time. He didn’t know when, but there was going to be a blow-up between Jessica and his niece over Grant. It was simply inevitable, although he also believed that if Grant were truly more interested in Jessica than Casey, his niece would be far more likely to accept it and let it go than Jessica. Jessica was used to getting her way, and Larry knew why. He would do his best to keep things smooth among his crew, but it would probably have to wait until he returned from his trip to Florida.

Jessica was about to say something else when they both heard Tara scream, followed by shouting from Casey as well. The two of them had put away their tools and gone ashore to gather more wood for the evening fire. Artie and Grant were still in the water, finishing up their work on the other hull.

“MY BOAT! REBECCA!”

Tara’s voice was hysterical. It was just like the night she’d come on deck during the Gulf crossing and discovered Rebecca was missing. Larry bolted to the beach with Jessica right behind him, and saw Artie and Grant doing the same out of the corner of his eye.
 

“THE
SARAH J.
IS UNDERWAY!” Casey screamed as they all ran to meet her.
 

Larry saw that Tara was racing for the dinghy, which was tied up high above the tide line with the oars in their locks. He took in the scene in the anchorage and his first thought was that Rebecca was pulling another stunt like her last, but then almost as fast as he thought it, he dismissed that idea. Her attitude had changed completely since her ordeal in the Gulf and besides, he doubted she could get the anchor up and set the sails by herself anyway. The
Sarah J.
was already more than a quarter mile south of where she’d been anchored, the mainsail full and drawing and the jib flogging as a figure in the cockpit worked to wrestle the sheets under control. He could now see that it wasn’t Rebecca and he knew immediately what was going on; it had to be Russell!
That sneaky bastard!
Rebecca was nowhere in sight. Larry scanned the water as he ran to meet Tara but didn’t see anyone swimming or anywhere in sight along the beach. Tara was already dragging the dinghy towards the water as fast as she could.

“WAIT TARA! I’M GOING BACK TO GET A RIFLE!”

“I’ll get it, Larry! I can run faster than you. Go ahead and help her get the dinghy to the water!”

“Ok, thanks!” Larry said, knowing Grant was right. He needed to get that dinghy launched as fast as possible. But with the
Sarah J.’s
sails filled with a favorable wind that would rapidly carry her away from the island, he wondered how they were going to catch up. Tara’s face was set with grim determination when Larry reached her side and grabbed the gunwale opposite her to help her carry the boat to the water. The finely crafted lightweight dinghy was designed for efficient rowing, and there was a sailing rig for it too, but unfortunately, the mast and the sail was still stowed aboard the
Sarah J.
where it had been since Tara’s parents last used it. With the rig, they would have a better chance, but what Larry really wished for was a Zodiac with a powerful outboard.
 

“Rebecca’s still on the boat! She’s got to be!” Tara’s voice was frightened, but she was somehow holding it together.
 

Larry agreed. There was still no sign of the girl in the water or anywhere else. Russell must have swum out to the boat and boarded it while Rebecca was below in her cabin.

“He must have hit her or threatened to or she would have screamed,” Tara said as they neared the water with the dinghy. Artie and Jessica and Casey had caught up by now too and all were helping. “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch when we catch him!”

Larry knew that once again, he’d screwed up. It was obvious from the minute they met him, that Russell was going to be a pain in the ass. But he’d misjudged his capacity to pull a stunt like this. He shared Tara’s sentiment, but wondered how they were going to catch the 37-foot sailboat that was already underway with a fair wind in its sails.

Grant sprinted across the island with two rifles in hand, one of them the lever action carbine he’d used so effectively in his first gunfight on Cat Island. “Let me go with Larry. We’ll catch them.”

“No!” Tara said. “I’m going. That’s my baby out there! You can’t leave me here!”

Larry took the rifles and put them both in the dinghy. It wouldn’t do to argue with Tara now. It was her daughter out there after all, not to mention
her
dinghy and
her
sailboat that had been stolen. But there was room for Grant too, and he could row faster than either of them, considering Larry’s injured arm. The only real hope they had was that Russell would screw up and run aground on one of the many shoals Larry knew were scattered to the south of the cay, or that he would give up and stop if they fired a few rifle rounds across his bow. Larry doubted the latter, and shooting directly at him wasn’t an option because Rebecca was on board and there was no way of knowing just where. There was no way Tara would let him risk a shot like that, and Larry wouldn’t take it even if she did.
 

Grant pulled at the oars for all he was worth and the dinghy was soon up to its maximum cruising speed. The Tartan 37 was slowly gaining distance on them though, and Russell now had the jib trimmed so the gap would widen rapidly. Tara was standing in the bow of the dinghy, screaming at Russell to stop and calling out her daughter’s name. It was heartbreaking to hear the desperation in her voice, and it brought back all his memories of that awful night in the Gulf when Rebecca had gone missing overboard. This time they knew exactly where she was, but she was just out of reach. Russell managed to slip through the shoals, whether by sheer luck or because he could still read the water depths by color in the late afternoon sun, it didn’t matter. He had also found time to look around down below, judging by what happened next. Larry didn’t notice the first small splash next to the dinghy until the sound of a rifle report reached his ears. He grabbed Tara and pulled her to the floorboards just as several more shots followed the first. Grant immediately stopped rowing, letting the dinghy drift.

“Dammit! He found the SKS!” Larry said, looking around to make sure Grant and Tara hadn’t been hit. “We’ve got to fall back. The bastard’s gonna get lucky if he keeps trying long enough!”
 

“NO!!!!” Tara screamed “We can’t let him just sail away like that with my baby on board! We can’t let him get away!

Tara got back to her feet and refused to get down, striking Larry’s arms away when he tried to grab her again. He gave up and let her stand there, screaming into the wind as they drifted. The shooting had stopped, but the
Sarah J.
was nearly out of rifle range anyway. They would have never caught up in the dinghy even if Russell hadn’t fired on them and Larry knew it. He felt like a helpless fool; an idiot who had truly screwed up again even worse than he had that night when he’d taken a brief nap while letting Rebecca have the watch. If he’d even guessed for a minute that Russell would pull something like this, he’d have shot him dead when he had the chance. What a fool he’d been to not see this coming. Tara collapsed into a sobbing heap in the floor of the dinghy when Grant started back for the beach and Larry didn’t know what to say or do to comfort her. But he knew what he was going to do about it. And he
would
do it or die trying.

Thirteen

T
HOMAS
A
LLEN
FELT
A
huge sense of relief once
Intrepida
cleared the bridge span of the Overseas Highway and the Keys were finally astern in the wake. By daybreak they were three miles south of the chain and making a steady five and half knots in the morning breeze. Scully felt good about the conditions and said it would be best if they continued on while the wind was good. He said it might strengthen later in the day out in the Atlantic, but he read no sign of a storm in the skies and didn’t think they would have trouble making the passage to the islands.
 

Thomas hadn’t slept all night, but he was still so wired from his near-death experience that he didn’t have the slightest inclination to try and get some rest. He was always that way when under stress or worry, which had been much of the time since they’d left their apartment and moved aboard
Intrepida.
Mindy, however, amazed Thomas with her ability to put worry aside—at least her worry about those things that did not require immediate attention or were beyond her control. Because of this, she’d gone below as soon as they were under the bridge and were relatively safe from the threats of land. Now she was sleeping soundly in the V-berth despite the heeling motion of the boat under sail. Thomas wasn’t sure how that was going to work out once they were in the open sea, however. Maybe she could do it, but he didn’t really expect to find out what it was like. The truth was, he usually felt queasy when he went below if there was much motion at all, so he figured he would be spending most of the offshore passage in the cockpit with Scully.
 

“So, what do you think? Do you still think this boat can handle the crossing, Scully?” he asked nervously as he stared at a chart of the Florida Straits and then out at the open ocean that stretched endlessly before them.
 

“Not to worry ‘bout de boat, mon. De boat, she’s good. Now we need only workin’ out de navigation. If you pass me dem chart, an’ take de helm, I doin’ dat now, mon.”
 

“Sure, no problem. I hope you can estimate about how long it will be until we can anchor somewhere again.”

Thomas wanted to be in the Bahamas already. Getting there was the part he was less than enthusiastic about. As he steered the boat while Scully plotted their course, he scanned the horizon for any signs of other boats—especially Navy ships or other gunboats. But they were alone for now. If they could just get out to International Waters and into the Gulf Stream, he hoped they would be home free. When they reached the outer reefs that separated Hawk Channel from the open Atlantic, Thomas steered through a well-marked pass that led to deep water. On a normal day, scores of fishing boats and dive boats would be hanging around the reefs up and down the Keys, but all that had changed now. Gone were the recreational vessels that dotted inshore waters, as well as the freighters and cruise ships that would normally be coming and going out in the Straits.
 

“I wonder why there are no Navy ships off this part of the coast? Seeing how they had the Dry Tortugas locked down and then what you said about the Everglades. It’s strange.”

“Probably dem not havin’ enough ship. Maybe only put de one dem got in de main place de traffic comin’”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll bet they have their resources in the Miami-Ft. Lauderdale area if they have them anywhere. Those are major ports. Probably several places farther north up the coast too. Any big ships coming in from other countries would go in there or enter the Gulf west of the Dry Tortugas.” It made sense that the blockade was mainly there to intercept bigger ships. Maybe they were concerned about foreign military vessels trying to enter U.S. waters in light of the crippling effect of the solar flare. Kicking recreational boats out of the anchorage at Ft. Jefferson might have simply been a drill or a matter of wanting the area to be exclusive to their operation. He didn’t know what they would have been doing in a remote place like Cape Sable, where Scully said his friends had been driven away with warning shots, but Thomas figured they must have had some need to secure the area. Whatever the blockade was about, it was a tremendous relief to get out of Florida waters unchallenged. Thomas had been worried about that ever since he and Mindy left Fort Jefferson. They weren’t ready for the Bahamas crossing then, but he’d certainly wanted to have the option when they were.