Page 118 of Lord Have Mercy Part Four: Big Son

“Stay here,” Daddy said. “Stay right here, and I’ll be back.”

Before Remy could protest, he moved, up and over the edge of the boat, and was gone with the faintest slap of water against the hull.

There was blood all over the floor of the boat. Daddy’s blood.

Remy heard a harsh sawing sound, and realized it was his own breathing.

There was a thump, and the boat rocked, and someone loomed over him; someone had jumped into the boat with him.

It was Tenny.

He heard more shooting, sharp cracks, and echoing movement, coming from the dock, from the other boats, from the shore. They were surrounded by gunfire.

“Hey, come here,” Tenny said in his real voice, and ducked low, and reached out his hand. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”

Someone howled, and it was a pained sound, like he was badly hurt or dying.

Remy took Tenny’s hand, and got pulled over to the edge of the boat, where first Boyle, and then Daddy had gone over.

“Take a deep breath,” Tenny said. “Hold onto me.”

Remy took a deep breath, and gripped tight to the back of Tenny’s shirt, and then Tenny leaped, and they were flying.

He didn’t remember to close his eyes. Tenny dove straight and neat, and barely disturbed the water, but Remy’s head was kicked back, and water rushed in to sting his eyes; it filled his nose and mouth, before he clamped his lips tight, and the world was black, and breathless, and the water was cold inside his ears, and hot where it slipped inside the neck of his shirt and soaked him straight to the skin.

For a moment, panic seized him the way Daddy had seized Boyle’s throat.

But then he reminded himself:I’m a good swimmer. And he really was; he couldn’t even remember learning, that was how young he’d been when he first started.

He forced air and water out of his nose and mouth, and when he blinked, he saw the silver bubbles leave him, andbreak upward, toward the surface. Beneath his tightly-clenched knuckles, Tenny’s shoulders worked in big, sweeping strokes; Remy could feel his legs kicking beneath his feet, and now that he was focusing on it, could feel the speed with which Tenny cut through the water, putting distance between them and the scene of the shootout.

Itwasdark under the water, but not as black as it had at first seemed. Tenny began to take shape, and something hulking off to their left. A gator? A gator! But, no, it was only a sunken long. Quicksilver fish darted from its hollows as they swept past.

Then Tenny tilted back, and his next few strokes carried them upward, and they breached the surface.

Tenny gasped, and Remy gasped too, and when air flooded his lungs, he felt how they were burning. He snorted water out of his nose, and shook his head, and blinked hard to clear his lashes.

“You okay?” Tenny asked.

“Yes.”

He heard more gunshots – and then something small struck the water, little splashes around them. Once, twice, three times, like insects diving…

Bullets, Remy realized.

Tenny gripped his shoulders, and turned him, so that he was between Remy and the dock. “Go, go, swim!”

Remy turned, and he swam.

He heard the swish and splash of water as Tenny followed him.

Heard more gunshots.

Heard a whine like a bee zipping past.

Heard a low, pained grunt.

Remy stopped paddling and turned around, treading water.

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