“What happened?” Mark finally asked, his voice raspy and his pulse uneven.
Dave shook his head. “I don’t know what that was, but it wasn’t a tsunami.”
“We’re lucky to be alive.”
“No--we shouldn’t be alive.”
“God must like one of us. I think it’s me,” Mark said as relief coursed through him.
Dave pinned him with his gaze. “Something happened just now. And I’m telling you that whatever it was, it wasn’t natural.”
The sudden sick twisting in his own gut substantiated the other man’s opinion. Dave was right. Something was wrong. He could feel it, but he couldn’t explain it.
“I don’t know,” he finally admitted.
“Let’s get the ship powered up,” Dave said. He stood, his face scrunching up in pain, but he resolutely headed out the door, hopping on his one good foot while he kept the other from touching the ground.
Mark had never had an experience he couldn’t explain. He knew Dave had, and he believed him, but this was just so far beyond anything he’d ever known. He couldn’t even attempt to categorize how he was feeling. He wasn’t even sure what he was thinking. It felt like a rush of images, a mass of data, information suddenly bombarding him, just waiting to crush him.
Just like the lightning had revealed the wave.
“I’m going to need your help once I get up the stairs,” Dave called. “I can’t do this myself. Not with this bad foot. We need to get the old girl home, and the sooner, the better.”
“Coming,” Mark said. The sooner the better was right.
He stood up and took a quick glance around, looking for his phone. He didn’t know where it had landed when the wave hit them. From the sound of it, Dave was already halfway up the stairs. He gave up the search for the moment and hurried to help the other man.
~
Sally sighed as she hung up the phone. She had tried calling Mark. She’d wanted to tease him a little more about the frozen lasagna. It had gone to voicemail, though.
After she put the groceries away, she opened the freezer and stared at the remains of his last fishing trip. There were still half a dozen packages of fish filets all wrapped up nice and neat. If he brought much home this time, she’d have to make room by throwing out some of the old ones, not that she’d mind.
For a moment, she considered doing it right then, but she didn’t want to stink up the trash can prematurely.
“Temporary reprieve,” she told the packets as she closed the freezer door.
She got out one of her larger pots, filled it halfway with water and set it on a back burner to boil. Then she grabbed a frying pan and dumped the raw hamburger into it. She was going to make two lasagnas and freeze one. Mark’s birthday was in three weeks, and she’d be shocked if he wanted anything other than his favorite lasagna to celebrate. Sometimes, predictable was a good thing. Getting to kill two birds was also a very good thing.
She glanced at the clock a few minutes later as she dropped lasagna noodles into the boiling water. Mark and Dave were probably getting in the last of their fishing before they’d have to head home.
~
It was with a sigh of relief that Mark heard the voice of the Coast Guard come on over the radio. Thankfully, they had managed to restore power to the ship. Dave nodded his head as he briefed the Coast Guard on their situation.
“We’re heading for home port now,” Dave said.
After the call was over, Mark looked at him. “Are you sure you’re fit to drive?”
Dave was in the captain’s chair and they’d managed to get his broken foot propped up a bit. He appeared distinctly uncomfortable, but his eyes were clear and alert. He must not have taken a second dose of painkillers.
“Yes. In the time it would take them to get out here and get back, we could have made it home and I would be in the ER already. I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a little too much excitement on this fishing trip and I just want to get back as soon as possible.”
“Agreed,” Mark said fervently.
The boat began to move forward, her prow slicing through the water. Mark felt a tremendous surge of relief and for the first time in over twelve hours, he felt like he could breathe. The sun was high in the sky and all the darkness of the night before had vanished. It had left its mark, however, and several lingering questions remained--questions Dave was clearly as loathe to discuss as he was.
When we came up on deck, why was everything dry?
That had been the first and biggest question on his mind, after how they could possibly have survived such an event. After being hit by the tsunami, everything on the boat should have been drenched, if not decimated. Instead everything had been dry as a bone.
As if it never happened.
But it had happened. He knew it had.
At least, something had certainly happened. That something had tossed the ship pretty violently.
“You know, a lot of old timers have some pretty strange stories about this area,” Dave said casually.
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh. Plenty of strange stories. Things that don’t seem… natural.”
“I guess we’re going to end up as two of those old timers then, huh?” Mark tried to grin and keep his tone light, but knew he’d only succeeded in a grimace at best.
Dave shook his head slowly, deliberately. “Not me. I don’t have a story to tell, other than this broken foot.”
He looked pointedly at Mark, clearly waiting for him to say something.
Mark frowned. “You don’t want to tell anyone what happened last night and this morning?”
“Not especially. People can get a bit weird when you have experiences they haven’t and you talk about it in front of them, especially when they are as inexplicable as what we encountered.”
Mark knew Dave’s parents had been less than kind when Dave had revealed to them his prophetic vision when he was younger. He was probably hoping to avoid exposing himself to more ridicule, particularly given his current position. As a priest, he had a reputation to uphold.
“Don’t worry. The only person I’d tell is Sally, and I’m seriously debating that. I don’t usually like to keep anything from her, but, in this case, it might be better for me to remain mum.”
“Why?”
“If I tell her, I doubt she’ll let me go on any more fishing trips. Ever.”
“Won’t let you?”
“You don’t know what it’s like to be married, man. Wives can make your life miserable if they don’t want you to do something. And if I tell her about this, she might even think I’m losing my mind.”
“Crybaby.”
“Scaredycat.”
The sun had been blazing bright for the last hour. Mark was appreciating the light and heat more than usual when suddenly, a dark cloud passed overhead, blocking the fiery rays. Mark glanced up to see massive clouds moving in. He’d seen storm clouds gather hundreds of times and had never taken much notice of them before. But something felt strange about them this time.
“Those clouds look weird to you?” Mark asked. “Different than normal?”
“No,” Dave said, his jaw clenched.
“You didn’t even look up.”
“I didn’t have to. They’re perfectly normal.”
“Okay, now you’re spooking me,” Mark told him. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” he growled. “I just have a really pressing desire not to admit I’ve been watching them coming for the last couple of minutes.”
“Worried we’ll get some bad weather before we get home?”
“No. I’m worried about what it means that all of those clouds are being blown from different directions so they all converge on the same spot—right on top of us. There’s nothing normal about that.”
Mark quickly glanced back up. After a few seconds, he realized Dave was right. Clouds usually formed in one spot and then moved in one direction with the wi
nd. Everything should be moving one way, but these clouds appeared to be springing up at the edges of the horizon in all four directions and racing their way toward a fateful meeting in the sky.
“What does it mean? Some kind of crazy storm I’ve never heard of before?”
“I don’t know,” Dave snapped. “I’m busy not worrying about it, remember?”
“You’d tell me if--”
Dave suddenly cut the engine. He was muttering under his breath again. Mark wondered if it was Latin.
“What is it?” Mark asked sharply.
“The navigational equipment is going haywire. I don’t want to take a chance of us going the wrong direction and getting lost.”
Dave tapped one of the gauges. “Come on, work already.”
It was growing darker by the moment and Mark looked up again, surveying the strange clouds as everything seemed to grow darker around them. “How far are we from land?”
“My best guess? About an hour and a half.”
“You know the heading, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get out of here.”
“Without instruments--” Dave started.
“We can handle it. Just like the old sailors.”
“I told you, that’s not all its cracked up to be.”
“Don’t worry. We still have indoor plumbing. I think you’ll be fine,” Mark said.
Dave muttered to himself again, definitely in Latin this time, but he throttled the boat up. As soon as he had the boat in gear, he called the Coast Guard and gave them an update on their status. When he mentioned that their instruments weren’t working Mark heard the man on the other end tell him to use extreme caution. There was something ominous sounding in the other’s voice that he didn’t like. Did the Coast Guard know something they didn’t?
After Dave ended the call, Mark moved closer. “What exactly are the instruments doing?” he asked, after watching Dave tap one of the gauges a couple more times.
“See for yourself,” Dave said.
Mark edged forward until he could see the compass in the center consul. It was spinning round and round like a clock stuck on fast forward. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
“What the hell?” he asked.
“My thoughts exactly. I’ve never prayed a blessing over a ship’s control panel before, but now might be an exception.”
“No kidding. North can’t be in all directions at once.”
“And those clouds can’t be pushed in from all different directions either, but it’s happening.”
“What do you think it means?” Mark asked with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“I think it means we’re in trouble.”
“Oh good. I feel much better now. Thanks.”
“Mark, am I hallucinating, or do you see that, too?” Dave asked, his voice strained. He pointed ahead of the ship.
Mark glanced in front of him and his stomach turned. Ahead of them, the sea was gray. Farther along, it disappeared altogether in a cloud of white.
“There’s fog coming in,” he whispered.
6
Sally had just put the first lasagna in the refrigerator and the second into the freezer. She had at least an hour or so before it would be time to put the first one in the oven. She was just finishing up the dishes when her phone rang.
It was Mark.
“Back already?” she cheerfully asked as she picked it up.
There was a lot of static, and then finally she heard his voice. “No. Going to…late. Fog…instruments.”
“I can barely hear you. There’s interference,” she said, raising her voice to match the static. She glanced at her phone to make sure the signal was strong. She had full bars.
There was a particularly strong burst of static and she momentarily pulled the phone away from her ear. Then she heard, “Fog. Late tonight. Tomorrow.”
Then the call dropped.
She quickly tried to call back, but it went straight to voicemail. She dropped the phone on the counter and growled in frustration. She’d been so looking forward to this evening.
Oh, well. A delay wasn’t the end of the world. The fog would pass, and they’d make it home sooner or later. There went the chance for a quiet, romantic dinner, though. She thought of the negligee in the other room and picked the phone back up.
Hurry home. I have a surprise for you.
She sent the text and felt very pleased with herself, thinking of Mark’s expression as he read the text. As she was putting the phone down, her hand froze. A sick feeling washed over her. Her heart began to race and an unreasoning fear suddenly gripped her.
What if he never comes home?
She tried to shake herself, get the feedback loop in her mind to stop.
It’s okay. He’ll be here before you know it.
~
By the time he hung up with Sally, Mark was beyond frustrated. He wished they’d had a better connection. At least he felt like he’d gotten the message across. He hoped so, anyway. There had been a lot of static.
“How’s it going?” he asked Dave as he climbed back up to the wheelhouse.
“The Coast Guard said to sit tight and wait for the sun to start to set so we can get our bearings. They think it will burn through the fog so we’ll be able to see it.”
“I hope they’re right.”
“Yeah, me, too. As long as I’m not driving for the next little while, I’d like to have more painkillers, please.”
“Sure,” Mark said, hurrying down to the cabin to get the bottle. It took him a moment to find it, but once he had he hurried back.
Dave gulped down the pill that Mark gave him.
“You don’t look so good,” he remarked, more than a little worried.
The priest was pale and sweat beaded his forehead.
“I don’t feel so good.”
“Maybe you should lie down for a little while.”
“Frankly, with my foot hurting as bad as it is, I don’t want to try to get back down the ladder or the stairs.”
“There’s enough room for you to just lie down up here.”
“I really don’t want to move. I’m not sure if I get out of this chair, whether or not I’ll be able to get back into it.”
“Well, I’ve seen you sleep in classes before while sitting upright, so I’m sure you can do it now.”
“That was high school.”
“And it was hilarious.”
“I wish others had been as appreciative.”
“Mrs. Foster never even knew.”
“Yeah, but Mr. Garcia nearly failed me for it.”
Mark was at a loss. He didn’t honestly know how to help Dave. He didn’t know if he stopped talking if his friend would be able to get some sleep or if the pain would just keep him awake. If it did then talking to him was the better option, maybe it would distract him from the pain.
And the fear. Because of his injury, I’m sure he’s feeling it worse than I am right now. If the gauges were working, we’d already be back on the shore where he could get treated in the E.R.
“Can you sleep?” Mark finally asked bluntly.
“I don’t know, but I should try.”
“Okay. I’ll be nearby in case your balance isn’t as good as it was in high school.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Anytime.”
Mark climbed down the ladder and took a seat on the main deck where he could keep an eye on Dave. He wanted to try calling Sally back, but he was worried they’d lose power again and he wouldn’t be able to recharge his phone. He decided to save the battery in case something like that happened. Part of him argued that he should just take the phone down and plug it in now, but somehow, his phone felt like a lifeline as he held it in his hand. It was connection to home, to Sally and the girls. It hit him that he must be more anxious than he’d realized, since the thought of letting g
o of his phone, even to charge it, caused him to panic.
So not good. Just pull it together.
~
The hours passed slowly. He dozed off twice himself. Finally, the fog started to lift--not all the way, but just enough that he could see the sun, which was starting to set. He climbed back up the ladder to the wheelhouse. Dave was still in the chair, his head lolled to one side, snoring softly. He hated to wake him, but the sooner they made it home, the sooner Dave could get to a hospital. They couldn’t risk losing the light.
“Dave, wake up,” he said, shaking his shoulder gently.
Dave blinked several times and then looked up at him. His eyes were glassy and his pupils dilated.
“You okay to drive?” Mark asked anxiously.
Dave nodded slowly, his eyes drifting upward. “Follow the sun.”
“Okay. I’m going to stand right here and watch. Then, if you need me to take over, I can.”
“Cool.”
A minute later, after notifying the Coast Guard that the fog had lifted enough to sail, they were underway. Mark felt his spirits lifting.
Everything was going to be okay. They were headed due west.
~
An hour later, Mark was starting to worry again. Something still wasn’t right. “Shouldn’t we be seeing land by now?” he asked.
“Yes,” Dave said, his jaw clenched and his expression pained. “I’ve been angling slightly north, just a bit. At this point I don’t care where we hit in Florida. We just need to find land.”
“Do you want me to radio in?”
Dave nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon where the sun was slowly sinking.
Mark grabbed the radio. It was already set to Channel 16. He tried raising the Coast Guard. Only static came back over the radio.
Dave swore under his breath, not even bothering with the Latin this time.
The Triangle Page 4