Dave muttered in his sleep. He tossed his head back and forth a couple of times, sweat beading on his forehead. Mark was worried about him. He was worried about his broken foot, too. He knew an injury like that was nothing to mess around with. He just hoped it wasn’t getting infected. That was the last thing either of them needed to deal with.
At least the electrical systems seemed to be working fine now. All the lights were on. Unfortunately, the navigation system was apparently permanently burned out. At least they could move and they could broadcast their location. It was a definite improvement from the night before.
This night was quiet, but he could still hear the gentle lap of waves. Sound appeared to be carrying normally again. He couldn’t yet wrap his brain around what exactly had been happening the last couple of days, but he was grateful things seemed to have returned to normal, relatively speaking, anyway. He thought about the brief conversation he’d had with Dave. The other had said that old sailors told weird stories about the area.
Devil’s Triangle stories, he thought to himself.
He’d heard a few of them, but having practically grown up on the sea, he hadn’t given them much thought. He knew just how treacherous the ocean could be and how fast storms could come up. There were a dozen reasons why a boat could vanish without having to make up crazy stories about it.
Like what happened to us.
He sat very still as that thought rattled around in his mind. Some people told weird stories about the area. Others just disappeared, so no one knew what their stories may have been.
What if they were missing? What if there were people out looking for them and they couldn’t find The Guardians? What if they were lost forever and no one ever found them? His panic was returning a little bit and he took a deep breath to calm himself.
It was just silly superstition. His grandfather hadn’t subscribed to it and neither did he.
But he couldn’t explain what had happened to them. The darkness, the loss of lights, the complete, bizarre loss of navigation, the thick fog which came from nowhere and settled in so deeply he couldn’t hear himself speak.
One by one, he came up with logical explanations for each of them. As they lost battery power, some of the lights failed before others, though he couldn’t exactly explain the reason for that. The navigation had just been shot, possibly by a power surge. Terrible luck, but hey, it could happen. Fog occurred naturally all the time and had even been known to linger one place for hours if conditions were right. This particular fog was just worse than anything he’d ever encountered.
The only thing he couldn’t explain was the darkness which had devoured all light and sound. Just remembering it spooked him again. He cleared his throat just to reassure himself that he could hear it.
He was being an idiot. Still, he had a strong urge to wake Dave, to ask him if he’d ever heard a story similar to theirs. Mostly, though, he just wanted to hear someone else’s voice, to have reassurance that he wasn’t alone.
Just as he was about to go shake Dave awake, he heard a creaking sound in the distance. He strained his ears, listening. It slowly grew louder. He stood up and thought he could see a light in the distance.
Excitement surged through him.
“Dave, wake up!” he called elatedly.
“What is it?” the other man asked groggily.
“I think it’s another ship.”
“Where?” Dave asked, instantly coming fully awake.
Mark pointed. There definitely was a light, and it was coming closer. He was certain he heard a shout.
Suddenly the quiet was ripped apart by a deafening roar. There was an explosion of fire and a hissing sound as something raced through the air toward them.
Dave threw himself forward off his chair, tackling Mark to the deck.
“Cannonball! They’re shooting at us!”
11
“What the hell?” Mark gasped as pain exploded throughout his body.
There was an enormous splash a little distance past them as the cannonball hit the water.
“We have to get out of here!” Dave shouted, rolling off of him with a grunt. “Help me get up the ladder so I can get the engines started!”
Mark realized there wasn’t time. Dave was the pilot, but in the time it would take them to get him up to the wheelhouse with his bad foot, another cannonball would strike them and they’d be sunk. Mark scrambled across the deck, grasped the ladder and barely made it up.
Another cannonball came whistling toward them just as he started the ship’s engine. The grind of the engine shattered the night, but it wasn’t loud enough to cover up the sound of the second cannonball splashing down much closer to them than the first.
“Hold on!” he shouted.
He gunned the engine and the boat thrust forward through the water, rapidly picking up speed.
Ahead and slightly to the left, he suddenly saw a flash of fire in the darkness. It wasn’t that far off, and a second later a cannonball came from that direction and missed the boat by yards.
He shouted and jerked the wheel about.
“There’s two ships!” Dave yelled up to him.
“I know!” he yelled back.
Both ships were running dark and silent and he had no real way of seeing them. All he could do was guesstimate as to where they were based on the direction the cannonballs appeared to be coming from.
“Cut our lights!” Dave shouted from the base of the ladder.
Mark scrambled to do that even as he tried to figure out just how far away from the second ship he’d turned the wheel.
The lights went out, plunging everything into utter darkness. Only the sound of their engine now gave away their location.
“Why are they shooting at us?” he called out. “And with cannonballs?”
He heard Dave grunting and cursing in Latin and in English. Moments later, his friend dragged himself up over the edge of the wheelhouse and collapsed on the ground by Mark’s feet.
“Maybe they’re shooting at each other and we just got in the way,” he suggested with a gasp. “Old ships…cannonballs. I think we accidentally sailed into the middle of a reenactment. In any case, we need to get the hell out of here.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Mark said through gritted teeth.
There was a flash of light off to his right and another cannonball came their way. He yanked the steering wheel again as this one came even closer.
“I don’t know where both ships are.”
“Right now, they’re at your nine and two o’clock, if that helps you any.”
“Yes, thank you,” Mark growled. “If they want us, they’re going to have to catch us.”
He opened the throttle all the way up and the boat accelerated, cutting through the water as it rushed forward. He flinched as cannons were simultaneously fired from both sides.
“Steady,” Dave said.
“Who fires cannons at people?” Mark asked.
“Pirates.”
“Pirates? That’s crazy!”
“It’s either that or overzealous reenactors. Personally, I don’t want to stick around and find out.”
Mark heard the sound of another incoming cannonball. He gritted his teeth and stayed the course. Seconds later, it splashed down five yards to the front and right of his boat.
Were they still shooting at them?
He jerked the wheel involuntarily, sending the ship in a partial circle.
Great. Now I really do have no idea where I am, he realized.
He had never been so lost in his entire life, and with two enemies in the darkness trying to kill him, it was enough to make him want to start screaming and call for help.
There was no help coming, though. They were on their own. He wasn’t sure what was happening or where the other ships were. What if he had just put them on a collision course with the second ship?
As if sensing his fear, Dave hissed at him suddenly.
“What?”
“Cut the engine!”
Mark immediately did as his friend asked, heart pounding. The ship fell silent but was still drifting forward. He could hear the water lapping at the hull. He strained eyes and ears, trying to locate their attackers. He could see Dave watching the ocean, obviously doing the same thing.
After a minute, Mark was about to say something when Dave held up his hand for silence. He must have heard something, given the way he cocked his head.
It was agony for Mark to remain so still. He couldn’t help but wonder how their attackers managed to keep so silent. It felt as if they were completely alone, adrift on an empty sea. Yet he knew that couldn’t be the case, so he continued to hold his tongue.
All of a sudden, Dave sucked in a hard breath. He grabbed hold of the back of Mark’s seat, hauled himself up, turned on the engine, and threw the ship into reverse.
A shout from above caused Mark to look up. There above them towered a ship with tall sails. They had been within seconds of striking her broadside. More figures appeared on the deck high above them, silhouetted against flickering firelight.
Dave managed to turn the bow of The Guardians before shifting out of reverse. The boat plowed forward, waves buffeting her bow. Dave fell back onto the ground and Mark grabbed wildly at the wheel.
Fire suddenly lit up the night sky and for that one moment, he caught a glance of both ships. He opened up the throttle and sped away as fast as he could. Cannons whistled through the air overhead.
There was a sickening crash as one tore through wood. For a terrible moment, he thought they’d been hit, but then he realized the ship they’d nearly rammed was the one in trouble.
Sweat poured down his forehead, burning his eyes and half blinding him, but he couldn’t risk taking a hand off the wheel to wipe it away. Behind him, the two titans raged, and he could only hope that they became so obsessed with each other that he and Dave could escape.
He had the boat completely cranked up and going as fast as it could. He tried to focus on remaining on a straight heading. In the confusion and dark, with his heart racing and no navigational instruments working, it was harder than he’d ever imagined it could be. Still, he tried to keep his hands locked in the same positions relative to each other and prayed for the best.
Given the way the storm had tossed them around, not to mention the bizarre threat of cannonballs, he knew he should be grateful The Guardians was still even afloat, let alone capable of moving.
“Please hold together, girl,” he whispered under his breath, trying to offer the ship whatever encouragement he could.
For a moment it seemed as though she responded with an extra burst of speed, lurching forward. He bit back a shout of triumph.
Suddenly, the ship slowed and he heard a terrible, grinding sound. He had no idea what it was, but it didn’t sound good. Could it be the engine was giving up? Was it going to die on them? Before he could even think of the possible options available to him to keep that from happening, the ship slammed hard into something.
He and Dave were thrown forward as the ship’s momentum abruptly ceased. They both smashed hard into the control console. Mark fell down beside Dave.
As he did so, he twisted, looking up. He somehow expected to see faces looking down on them, since he was certain they had just rammed into the other ship.
Thankfully, there was nothing staring down at them but the moon. He gazed at it for a moment, trying to comprehend what it meant. His vision went blurry for a moment before fading to black.
~
Sally woke, her heart pounding, shadows of another nightmare fading fast from her mind. She sat bolt upright, unsure for a moment where she was. Then she remembered she was in a hotel room waiting to hear that the coast guard had found and rescued Mark and Dave.
She checked her phone. It was still nighttime. There had been no calls or texts. She thought about getting up, but sleep still tugged at the corners of her mind, trying to pull her back down into darkness.
She couldn’t remember much about her dream except that Mark was in terrible danger and someone was trying to kill him.
Her head was aching and throbbing so mercilessly that she finally got up to get a glass of water so she could take some aspirin.
Once she had done that, she sat back down on the bed and took several deep breaths. She closed her eyes and thought of Mark. She tried to picture him on the boat, tried to reach out to him with her mind and heart. She wanted him to know how much she loved him, how much she wanted him to come home.
It was crazy, but for a moment she thought she smelled his aftershave. She tried to breathe it in, wishing him there with her.
“I love you, Mark. Come back to me,” she whispered into the night.
She listened, as though she might actually hear him calling back to her. There was nothing, though.
She slipped back under the covers, laid down and prayed for sleep.
~
Mark felt as if he was falling, and it hurt more than he ever would have thought it could. Pain knifed through his temple. He blinked rapidly until he finally started getting his sight back. Slowly, the rest of his senses kicked in. He heard a horrible, wailing, grinding noise and the scent of smoke filled his nostrils.
“Turn off the engine,” Dave gasped from somewhere next to him.
Mark somehow managed to drag himself up to his feet and reach for the engine. The moment he turned it off, the noise ceased. He just hoped they hadn’t burned out the motor.
“What did we hit?” Mark asked, feeling as if he was not only moving and talking slowly, but also thinking slowly. “I don’t see another ship.”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t another ship,” Dave said.
“Maybe we hit land or a reef or something,” Mark said, his head pounding in agony as he tried to work it all out.
Land would be good, at least. They’d be able to find out where they were and get back home. He looked around, squinting, but only inky darkness greeted him.
“I don’t know where we are,” he admitted, his voice slurring as if he’d had one too many drinks.
Maybe I have a concussion, he thought.
“Are you bleeding, or am I?” Dave asked, his voice weak.
“What do you mean?”
“Can’t you smell the blood?”
Blood?
He couldn’t smell anything other than the spent engine, but Mark touched his pounding temple and his fingers encountered something warm and sticky. It stung where he touched it and he grunted in pain.
“Apparently, I am,” he said. “I must have hit my head. Are you okay?”
Dave didn’t answer.
“Dave? You okay?” Mark called anxiously. His voice was loud enough to make his head ring.
The silence continued.
Panic filled his heart as he narrowed his gaze and stared down, trying desperately to locate his friend. “Dave?”
There was still no answer.
Mark dropped to his knees. That was when the scent of blood filled his nostrils.
12
Dave was bleeding badly from a shoulder wound. A piece of metal appeared to be lodged in it. His scalp was also bleeding, just as Mark’s was. Since the head wound appeared superficial, Mark focused his attention on staunching the flow of blood from his friend’s shoulder.
He ripped off the tattered remains of Dave’s shirt and stuffed it against the wound. He couldn’t see the metal well enough in the moonlight to risk trying to take it out. He didn’t know how deep it was and he was afraid of making things worse.
“Come on, Dave. You’re better at this stuff than I am,” he muttered, wishing the priest would wake up.
Then again, it was probably better for Dave if he didn’t, because Mark wasn’t sure how he’d be able to handle the pain.
~
It was midmorning when Sally finally woke up. She rolled over and snatched up her ph
one. The only thing she’d missed was a text from her mother asking if she’d heard anything. She sent a brief text back letting her know the coast guard was still searching.
She called John, who had given her his direct number the day before. He answered on the second ring.
“Good morning,” he said, sounding beyond tired.
“Anything?” she asked, though she could already tell by the weariness in his voice there was nothing new to report.
“No, nothing yet. We have every available man out looking.”
She bit her tongue before she could demand to know why he wasn’t out looking, too. Someone had to stay at the station and coordinate and handle other issues that came up. Logically she knew that even if in her heart, she wanted the whole U.S. Navy to converge on the area in the search.
“Mark has a few friends who have boats,” she offered, belatedly realizing she should have immediately called and ask for their help in the search.
“While I appreciate the offer, I don’t want anyone else out there we’d have to worry about,” John said. “Let the experts do their jobs.”
“Why? Is there something going on? Something you’re not telling me? Some reason to worry more about ships getting lost today than at other times?”
“No, I’m just saying that we already have a lot of trained men out on the water and we don’t need civilians getting in the way,” he said, his voice hardening. “Especially emotional ones.”
“Like me?”
She heard him sigh. “I wasn’t purposefully making a comment about you. Obviously, you have every reason to be emotional. However, I would object strongly if you tried to take a boat out yourself in that mental state. The ocean can be treacherous enough for those who are calm and thinking clearly.”
Mentally she told herself not to antagonize the man who was her best ally in this whole mess. If she did, she’d likely find herself banned from the station. That would be worse.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” she said.
The Triangle Page 8