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Skull Wave (A Troy Bodean Tropical Thriller Book 5)

Page 20

by David F. Berens


  A crack of what might’ve been thunder interrupted Jack’s murderous swing. He stumbled backward, clearly surprised. Troy saw a dark red spot of blood bloom on the man’s right shoulder. His arm immediately went limp and the blade flew out of his grip. His gaze went up above Troy’s head and his eyes widened, but then turned into slits of anger.

  He growled something unintelligible and another crack spit the air. Troy turned around to see the angel of death standing on the bow of Mel’s tugboat. She was naked and glowing in the darkness. And in her hand was the fire.

  Clarice stood on the deck with a pistol held in both hands. Her eyes were determined and calm. She rolled her head around on her neck and Troy was sure he could hear the cracks of her spine. She raised the pistol slightly and closed one eye. Jack must’ve realized she was getting ready for the kill shot because he turned around and bolted away. Clarice pulled the trigger and the shot hit him high in the back. He stumbled and fell to a knee, but then stood again and ran. He dove right over the top of Mel’s unmoving form and leapt into the darkness. Troy heard the splash as the man entered the shark infested water. He’d chosen death by beast rather than by beauty.

  As if waking from a nap, Mel looked up at him in apparent surprise.

  “What’s all this about?” he muttered.

  Troy crawled toward him and grabbed the rough man’s hands and pulled him up.

  “Let’s go old timer, this rig is goin’ down and I don’t wanna be on it. Too many sharks in the water ‘round here.”

  He pulled Mel’s arm over his shoulder and heaved the man up to stand. They swayed and stumbled in the rocking wreck of the boat and Clarice helped pull them on board when they reached Mel’s tug. Even in his injured state, the old man leered at Clarice’s nude form.

  “Really, Mel?” Troy asked him.

  “What? What? I might be old, but I ain’t dead yet!”

  “This is true.”

  “But ya know what I’m wonderin’?”

  Troy wasn’t sure he wanted to follow the man’s line of thought, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “What is it, Mel?”

  “Where’n the hell was she keepin’ that gun all this time?”

  Troy reached up to slap his forehead and was stunned to find that it was still there. The Outback Tea Stained straw cowboy hat had survived the entire ordeal. And then in the blink of an eye there were four Coast Guard boats surrounding them. As Jack’s boat gave a lurching gurgle and began to sink faster, a familiar voice crackled over a loudspeaker.

  “Troy, you okay out there?”

  Troy almost slapped his forehead again.

  “Yer a little late to the party, Duffy.”

  And then it was gone. All of it. Jack’s boat, Jack, Barry, and…Meira.

  22

  Off Into The Sunset

  The search for Meira’s body lasted three weeks before the Coast Guard and local authorities leading the effort assured them she was truly gone. The ocean had taken her. No, Troy thought angrily, Barry had taken her. Fitting that the bastard had gone down with her. Riley had given the whole story to the police as she sobbed uncontrollably. Her grandmother had flown into town from Boston and custody of Riley was turned over to her. She would be okay. It would take time—a lot of time—but with the help of therapy, she would eventually find some peace.

  Troy wondered if therapy would help him as well. His episodes of PTSD had gotten worse recently and he wasn’t sure why. And he’d made up his mind after Meira’s memorial service that he wasn’t staying in Nags Head. He had no idea where he would go, but this town was over for him. Riley was gone to Boston. Meira was gone into the sea. There was nothing for him here now.

  He’d left a lot of towns in a funk, but this was bad. In the space of a week, he’d lost his boat, his belongings, and…his love. He had run from problems before, but now he wasn’t sure his problems wouldn’t follow him. He sat at the bus station on a bench with no bags, no belongings, no ticket in his hands. Tears didn’t come anymore, but neither did emotions.

  “Hey,” a voice called to him.

  He looked up to see a red convertible Mercedes idling in the road. A woman was driving and it took Troy a few seconds to come up from his fog to realize who it was.

  He couldn’t help but let a small, half smile raise his lips.

  “Howdy, Clarice.”

  She nodded toward the bus station. “Leaving town?”

  Troy shrugged his shoulders.

  “Not really sure about that yet. Not sure where I can run to that all this…” He waved a hand around. “Where all this won’t follow me.”

  She pursed her lips. It was a good look on her. Troy shook the thought away. With Meira freshly gone, he was dead set against that kind of feeling emerging any time soon. A breezy silence floated in between them.

  “How ‘bout you?” Troy asked. “You headin’ out?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled as she said it. “Not much going on here. Protests are over. Todd bolted after he made bail and so did the rest of my friends.”

  “With friends like those...” Troy let the thought hang unfinished.

  “Ha. I know, right?”

  Another silence. Clarice reached over the passenger’s seat and opened the door.

  “Get in,” she said.

  “Huh?”

  “Come with me.”

  “I dunno, Clarice. Lot’s of really bad stuff seems to follow me around and I don’t want to get you tangled up in all that.”

  “Troy.” She arched an eyebrow. “I’m a big girl. Besides, it’s Martha’s Vineyard. What could possibly happen there?”

  Troy thought about it for a second. He’d left a lot of places, but he’d always left alone. And usually, he didn’t feel very good about his prospects. But as dark as things had turned in his last days on Nags Head, he thought he saw a little light in his future. He wasn’t sure what to do with this smart, sassy, beautiful, and seemingly rich young protestor, but he thought he might one day enjoy finding out.

  He stood up and walked to the car. She smiled and patted the leather seat next to her.

  “Come on,” she said. “I promise I won’t bite.”

  And Troy smiled full on for the first time in days.

  “I ain’t worried about that,” he said. “Just got one request.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “And that is?”

  “No Rolling Stones on the radio.”

  He reached down and punched a button on the dash. The Bose sound system of the expensive car lit up and the speakers came to life. Tom Petty began to sing “Free Fallin’” and as Clarice pulled out of town, Troy found himself singing along.

  The man’s fingers clutched at the rocky sand on Coquina Beach. His face was red and cracked from exposure, and his hands shook from the shock of being recently shot. His gray braided ponytail had come undone long ago and his stringy hair plastered his cheeks as he crawled ashore. He rolled over on his back as he pulled himself up out of the surf. The sun was warm on his skin after drifting for so long in the cool water of the ocean. He took a slow easy breath. Luckily, the bullet hadn’t hit his lung. Best he could tell, it had gone clean through without doing much damage. The voices of a few nearby tourists began to get closer. They had obviously realized he needed help.

  And then the anger began to rise. Jamaica Jack Barron propped himself up gingerly on his elbows. He’d need some time to recover from his injuries, but he knew what he was going to do after that.

  He was going to hunt down the naked bitch and rip her limb from limb until she screamed for him to kill her. Then he would do some more. And when he was through with her, he was going to find that asshole in the hat and make him pay.

  He was going to kill Troy Bodean.

  Also by David Berens

  And don’t forget to check out all of the Troy Bodean Tropical Thriller Series on Amazon:

  Back Roads - A Short Story Collection starring various characters from the Troy Bodean Series

  Knuckle B
ones - A Troy Bodean Prequel Short

  And the Full Length Troy Bodean Tropical Thrillers

  #1 Rogue Wave

  #2 Deep Wave

  #3 Blood Wave

  #4 Dark Wave

  #5 Skull Wave

  And if you have kids that might like a mystery story:

  Zed Mozart - Virtual Kid Detective 1-3

 

 

 


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