Page 48 of Walk on the Wilde Side
Sam tosses out the ropes and we help him tie off. "Perfect timing," Sam calls. He's a tall guy with a giant belly that's testing the material on his raincoat. His beard glitters with sea spray. And he's got the usual fisherman leathery skin, crisscrossed with deep crevices.
Sam is still busy on deck, so Ernie calls up to him after the engine shuts down. Instantly, the sea breeze and drizzle clears the air of the burning fuel smell. "Hey, Sam, you didn't happen to see that character Rick out there on the Knotty, did ya?"
Sam finishes his task of coiling up some rope and walks to the railing. "Sure did. He's anchored about three miles offshore, just sitting out there with his gang of misfits. I saw him in the distance and radioed him to see if he was in distress or needed help. He rudely told me he was fine and to mind my own business, so I hung up my radio and kept going."
"North or south of the marina?" I ask.
"Hmm, just north and if you ask me, they're up to something, and it ain't fishing or pleasure boating."
"Thanks, Sam, that's a big help," Ernie says.
"Yeah, thanks for your time." Ernie and I walk back to the kiosk and I'm already making my plan. "Ernie, I need to rent a wave runner."
Ernie stops. "You're going out to the boat? You heard Sam. Those guys are up to no good, and I think there are as many as seven of them, including one who's bigger than you who's been hangin' out with Rick these past few weeks."
I place a hand on his shoulder and give him a reassuring grin. "You're talking to Finn Wilde's boy, and last time I saw someone bigger than me I was standing in a funhouse in front of one of those crazy mirrors that stretched me up to about seven feet."
"What about the weather?" he asks just as the wind starts pushing a little harder against the docks, and the waves start slapping the slips.
"It's just a little rainstorm."
Ernie laughs. "That's right. You're a landlubber. You don't know anything about that ocean out there and how angry she can get when Mother Nature is tickling her. You'll wear a life jacket," he says in a way that lets me know there's no compromise.
"I might be a hotheaded Wilde, but I'm not stupid. I'll wear a life jacket. Just need to get out to the boat, pick up a passenger and head straight back to the marina." I want to add in "and break a few heads while I'm on board" but decide to keep that to myself.
Ernie shuffles toward the wave runners. "Uh Ernie, can we make it fast?"
Ernie is moving slower than the last time I saw him. He has to stop walking to look back at me over his shoulder. "What's your hurry, son? You saving a damsel in distress or somethin'?"
"Yeah, something like that." I pull out my phone and send off a quick text to Jameson.
Chug's out on his boat, three miles off the marina. I'm sure he's got Nev. I'm heading out there now. Keep you posted.
Ernie finds the wave runner with plenty of gas and grabs the biggest life vest he has hanging on the hook. Even then, it's hard to shut around me. "Hey, Ernie can you hang onto my phone? I don't want to lose it in the water."
Ernie looks at my phone in his hand. "You'll have no way to communicate. Hope you know what you're doing."
I untie the machine and climb on while Ernie's still in the small rental shed.
"Hold on there, Zander. You'll need to sign some release forms, and I have to read you the rules."
I wave. "I won't sue, and I already know all the rules. Might have to break a few, but I'll bring it back in one piece."
Ernie lowers the clipboard and pen he's holding and scowls at me. "Well, be careful, and she's a lucky girl. Both of you come back in one piece, you hear?" he yells over the motor.
I wave and nod. I pull the wave runner around. One-foot waves are starting to roll into the marina, and the rain is turning from a wet drizzle to heavy drops. I turn my head slightly to avoid the salt water in my eyes. I ride up and over the breaking waves. The wave runner smacks the surface hard. I steer the nose to the north and twist the throttle.
The cold water and wind are a brutal combination, but the water smooths out some as I ride out of view of the marina. I ride just slightly north and then I spot the boat in the distance. Adrenaline kicks in again to warm my cold muscles. I lean over the machine, grip the throttle and torpedo toward Chug's boat.
twenty-two
Nev
Present
"Zander!" I scream as I jump-scoot the chair, the fucking chair I'm still tied to, closer to the railing. Zander is moving but barely. With his hands tied, his body begins to sink below the surface. And then in a burst of strength, like the whole lifting a car off someone scenario, I break my hands loose. They're bloody and sore, but once they're free of the bindings, I untie my ankles from the chair.
The ghouls are having their moment of fun watching as the man who basically destroyed them all by himself sinks below the rough surface of the waves. The water is turbulent, and a misty rain has turned to a cold fog making it hard to see ten feet past the boat, but I keep my eyes on the body in the water. He's moving more now.
