Drunk on a Boat

by Zane Mitchell

  Solo’s mouth tightened. He cocked a brow as he glanced over at his sister. “You do have a plan, don’t you?”

  “Of course we do, Solo,” said Francesca. The moonlight glowed behind her head, making her dark hair look almost golden, angelic. “Our plan is to get out there, scope the place, see what kinds of traps we might be able to lay. We don’t want to go into the ransom drop blind. This is really just a scouting expedition so we can come up with the plan.”

  He glanced over at me again.

  I shrugged, cocking my thumb sideways towards his sister as if to say, What she said.

  Solo’s eyes narrowed on me. “By failing to prepare, you’re preparing to fail. Do you make it a habit of living life recklessly?”

  “Not really. Back in the States, my life was pretty boring.”

  “Yeah?” said Miguel, taking his eyes off the water for the first time. “But you’re a cop in the States. That couldn’t be too boring.”

  I shrugged. “Eh. I got a late start. I was barely off probation when I left.”

  “At your age you were barely off probation? That doesn’t bode well for your character,” grunted Solo.

  My mouth went dry, but I couldn’t help but agree with him. “You’re probably right. It took me a while to figure out what I wanted to do for a living. I joined the police academy late in life, and even when I did, I didn’t take it as seriously as I should have.”

  “Would you do things differently now?” he asked.

  “Solo!” chastised Francesca. “Stop bothering Drunk with silly questions.”

  “It’s not a silly question, Panchita. You’re putting your neck and your career on the line to help this guy who doesn’t even take his own life or career seriously.” Solo’s eyes lowered, and a deep groove formed between his eyes. “Sometimes these kinds of experiences add character to a man. I just wondered if he’d go back and do things differently now that he’s had these things happen to him.”

  Solo’s questions made me wonder. Would I do things differently now if given the chance over again? Would I have started my career earlier? Would I have tried harder at the academy? Would I have tried harder to get off probation? Maybe if I’d been more concerned about my career, I wouldn’t have had time to fall for Pam’s feigned innocence back then. I shrugged. “Maybe. I really don’t know.”

  We hit a wave and the boat rocked forward, sending a fine mist of saltwater spraying against my back and reminding me of the mission that we were on. The fact remained, I didn’t have the luxury to do things differently. Now, I only had my wits about me, the people in this boat, and the shirt on my back. That was it. I had to do the best with what I had.

  Al gave me a little pat on my knee. “I’ll tell you this, fellas. Drunk might not have come to the island with the right mindset, but he’s certainly doing his best to resolve this situation. His heart is in the right place and that’s what matters.”

  “Thanks, Al,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure that my heart actually was in the right place.

  Solo’s hard look made me curious as to what he was thinking. Then, without notice, he quietly stood up and climbed down the stairs to the cockpit. Apparently it was his not-so-subtle way of telling us he was done with the conversation.

  I glanced over at Francesca.

  She rolled her eyes and drew up one golden-tanned knee. She swiveled slightly into the wind, turning her back to me. She reached back and pulled the tie from her hair. The wind caught hold of her damp tresses, tossing them backwards.

  I closed my eyes and inhaled. Her hair smelled sweet, like milk and honey. The combination of the beautiful night and her scent was intoxicating. And in that moment, I wished we were on the boat under different circumstances and not surrounded by her brothers.

  Seconds later, Diego climbed the stairs and took Solo’s spot next to Miguel.

  The ride was silent for a while until finally, Francesca turned to face her brothers again. “Guys, I really like the new boat.”

  Miguel gave Francesca a sideways glance. “Yeah? I got it off this old-timer who lost an arm in a boating accident a few months back. He gave me a sweet deal because he was sick of looking at it.”

  “It’s much larger than the old fishing boat.”

  He nodded and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “The cabin down there has a dinette and a head in it.” He grinned from ear to ear.

  “No more pissing off the side of the boat now,” hollered Rico from the cockpit.

  “Classy,” said Francesca with a sly grin. “What about the other boat? You sell that one?”

  “Nah, Diego’s captaining that one now.”

  “Nice, D!” said Francesca.

  Diego grinned from ear to ear. “Workin’ my way up, you know. I’m gonna buy it from him when I’ve got enough money saved up. Then I’ll be working with him instead of for him.”

  “And now you can have two charters out at once. That’s gotta help with bringing in the work.”

  “For sure. Plus Rico’s working on updating our website,” said Miguel. “So now clients will be able to book one of our boats right there from their computer or their phone. It’s gonna be slick. As soon as I can afford it, I wanna buy a third boat, so Rico can captain that one.”

  Francesca shook her head, pride beaming from her face. “You’re gonna have a whole fleet someday. Cruz Brothers Charter Fleet,” she said with a giggle.

  With a wide smile, Miguel’s head tipped forward. “I like the sound of that.”

  After another twenty minutes of small talk, Miguel pulled the boat up skillfully along the outer bank of a dark island. From a distance, it had looked like a shadowy blob, like a giant monster rising up out of the sea, but up close, I could now make out the shapes of natural rock formations. Other than that, the island appeared to be a barren wasteland.

  Diego stood up. “Here we are. Gull Island.” He rushed down the stairs, nearly jumping from the top deck.

  “Not much to it,” said Al, his voice almost entirely drowned out by the shouting of Francesca’s brothers as they worked to help secure the boat meters off the coast.

  “Agreed,” said Miguel before going down next. “Panchita, you can help these two get out?”

  “Of course,” said Francesca.

  Francesca and I both helped Al down the stairs to the cockpit, where she grabbed her duffle bag and tossed it over the transom onto the swim platform. Following her brothers, she swung her leg over the edge and then jumped into the waist-deep water. “We’ll have to wade in. The boat can’t get that close to the shore.” She reached over and lifted her duffle bag over her head so it wouldn’t get wet while she waded.

  Al held a shaky hand out to me as he tried to lift a leg over the transom. “You’ll have to lower me down, Drunk.”

  I took him by the elbow and tried to reel him back in. There was no way I was dropping an eighty-seven-year-old man into the Atlantic. I shook my head. “Not happening. You’re staying here.”

  “Like hell.” He tried to climb out of the boat himself. “I got great night vision. You’re gonna need me out there.”

  I closed my eyes and sighed. “Dammit, Al, this is only gonna make things more difficult. There’s nothing to see out there.”

  Al fingered the air. “Aha! You just proved my point.” He stabbed the same finger into his chest. “I can see plenty.”

  I slapped my forehead and slid my hand down my face.

  “Drunk, did you learn nothing the last time we worked together? We’re in this as a team. Now if you don’t help me out, I’ll just fall overboard and you can explain to Evie why you made me do the one thing she told me I’m not allowed to do.”

  I closed my eyes.

  Fuck.

  “I can get my brothers to help him,” Francesca offered, looking back over her shoulder at us. She turned around again and cupped a hand to call to the four men that had already disembarked and were halfway to the shoreline. “Hey, Solo!” she hollered. “Drunk needs your—”


  “Shh!” I swatted the air. The last thing I needed was Francesca’s brothers thinking I wasn’t strong enough to lower a ninety-pound man into the water. “No, I’ll do it. Don’t we have a life jacket or something that he can put on, though? I’d feel better if I could tether him to me or something.”

  “Probably under those seats on the flybridge. Where we were sitting,” she explained while pointing.

  I glared at Al. “Not a move, got it, old man?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled.

  I glanced over my shoulder before heading back to get the lifejacket. Her brothers were already to the shoreline. I groaned.

  Minutes later, with Al and me securely buckled into a lifejacket and the two of us tied together, we waded through the warm waist-deep water to the shoreline. Al was light, so the water tended to try and sweep him off his feet. I was thankful he’d allowed me to put him in a lifejacket.

  As we neared the shoreline, water lapped at its sandy edges. Beneath the moonlight and with the help of Francesca shining her flashlight, we could immediately see the mountains of white that covered almost every square inch of the beach.

  “Holy. Literal. Fucking. Shit,” I breathed as we looked out upon the piles of bird crap.

  “Language,” barked Solo, shooting me a look of disgust. “My sister’s present.”

  Francesca made a noise before backhanding her brother’s arm. “Solo! Relax. I’ve heard way worse at the station.” She moved her flashlight around the island.

  Still tethered to me, Al walked forward on the beach until he hit the end of his rope. Unable to go any further, he padded around me in a semicircle, looking into the darkness. Finally, he looked up at me stiffly.

  “There’s nothing to see out here,” he said as if giving me his official report.

  I frowned. “I told you there wasn’t shit out here.”

  “I know, but I’m from the ‘Show Me’ State.”

  “What the hell’re you talking about? You’re not from Missouri. You’re from Nebraska.”

  “Well, I can see Missouri from Nebraska.”

  “You’re a pain in my ass, Al.”

  Al cupped a hand to his ear. “Eh?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I see something,” said Solo. He pointed towards the horizon. “There’s a boat out there.”

  I followed his finger, squinting into the darkness. “I don’t see anything.”

  “It’s there. Trust me. Its lights are off.”

  Everyone else’s eyes tried to see what Solo saw.

  Finally, I gave up trying to spot Solo’s ghost ship. “Alright, well, listen, we need to come up with a plan.”

  “Mm-hmm,” growled Solo.

  Gritting my teeth, I ran a hand through my hair. I needed to figure something out quickly. The shadowy outline of a wall rising up in the distance caught my eye. “Francesca, throw some light over there, will ya?”

  She turned her big beam of light onto a wall of rocks on the west side of the island. The ocean rubbed up against the side of it, creating white rolls of foam.

  “Well, maybe we could put a couple guys behind that rock line over there.”

  “A couple guys?” said Solo, looking surprised. “You got an army on your side or something?”

  Immediately my error became evident to my own ears. I’d mistakenly assumed Francesca’s brothers would help us with the sting when the time came. “Oh, well, I…”

  Suddenly my phone rang.

  Saved by the ringtone, I thought as I dug my phone out of my shirt pocket. Without even looking at the screen, I answered it. “Drunk here.”

  “Daniel! We speak again.” The familiar menacing voice resonated like a bomb in my ears.

  My head dropped. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

  “Harry, it’s not been long enough,” I quipped, instantly regretting I’d even answered. “What can you do for me?”

  “Daniel, listen, I feel like I’ve been a fairly patient man. Many others in my shoes wouldn’t have been nearly this patient. But now I think we have a few things we need to discuss. It looks like you decided not to play by the rules,” he drawled into the phone.

  My heart froze in my chest and my mouth went dry. Any unease I’d had about Francesca’s brothers giving me a hard time immediately dissipated. I had bigger problems. “The rules?” I swallowed hard and sent a furtive glance up to the group of people I’d had a major hand in gathering on the island. They all stared back at me expectantly. “I suppose you mean the jokes. Well, you’re absolutely right. You have my apologies. Old habits die hard, you know. I’ll do my best to knock it off.” I stuck a finger in my other ear to block out the sound of the surf breaking against the rocks. “Hey, while I gotcha on the phone. I went to the bank today to start the process of getting your money.” I hoped he’d be excited to hear that and would let me go about my business.

  “Well, that’s good to hear. And quite honestly, if I hadn’t heard that, things might have gone badly for you this evening.”

  I turned around, giving Francesca and her brothers my back. “I’m glad to hear that you’re pleased,” I said, my body rigidly anticipating the purpose of the phone call. “So, if that’s all you needed, I’ll let you—”

  “Not so fast, Daniel. The reason I say that, is because if you weren’t working on getting me my money, I might’ve been tempted just to end this all right now.”

  “End it?”

  “That’s right. Call the whole thing off.”

  I furrowed my brows. “Excuse me?”

  “Because it would only take a second to erase this entire problem, right off the face of the earth.”

  My voice caught in the back of my throat. I coughed a little. “Erase the problem? Are you talking about hurting Pam? Because I—”

  “No, I wasn’t talking about hurting Pam, Daniel.”

  “Drunk, what’s going on? What’s he saying?” asked Al, hobbling around me so he could look me in the eye.

  I held a finger up and mouthed a shhh.

  Harry continued, “Because like I said earlier, you aren’t playing by the rules I laid out for you.”

  I winced. Had he seen me going to the police station to get Francesca earlier?

  Fuck.

  “I don’t know what you’re—”

  “Don’t mess with me, Daniel. I told you specifically no funny business.”

  “Funny business?” My voice might have risen an octave.

  “You know, I had a feeling you might try and pull something,” said Harry. “I’m just a little surprised you’d be so obvious about it.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I mean, I’ve given you chance after chance to make this a simple process, but you just can’t do what you’re supposed to do, can you?”

  “Well, I—”

  “But not to worry. I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s a reason all of this is happening.”

  “A reason?”

  “The stakes just aren’t high enough,” said the man on the other end.

  “Oh no, the stakes are plenty high, thank you,” I said, nervously turning to look at Francesca and her brothers standing in front of me.

  “The problem is, you honestly think I won’t kill Pam.”

  I shook my head, my heart now beating wildly in my chest. “Oh, no. Trust me, I believe you.”

  “But I don’t think you do.”

  “I do, I do. I swear.”

  “Perhaps what you need is a little reminder about who’s running the show?”

  My eyes widened, and I suddenly wondered if he knew exactly what I was up to. Did he have eyes on us somehow? I waved a hand at the group behind me, motioning for them all to get down. I pulled the phone from my face for a second. “Everyone, get down!” I hissed while unclipping Al’s lifejacket from my own. “I think he can see us!”

  I heard the men behind me cursing as they fell to the guano-covered beach. Francesca and Solo came to grab Al, and the two of them got him to the grou
nd too.

  As I returned the phone to my ear, I glanced around the island, looking for any signs of Harry and his men. Or maybe Solo actually had seen a ship. But if it was there, I couldn’t see it. It was completely dark. I could barely see anything! How could he see us? Were there sharp shooters hiding out on the island?

  I shook my head. “I promise you, I do not need any reminders. You are in charge. It’s obvious,” I said, for the first time actively nervous about what he might do.

  “It’s good to hear that you’re taking me seriously now. But that’s not enough. Now you need to fear me.” The phone clicked.

  I looked at the group. “We gotta get out of here. I think he knows we’re here and he’s not happy! Hurry, we need to get to the boat and get off this island before something happens!”

  Solo was the first one up. He lifted Al to his feet. I ran over to him and hooked an arm through his elbow, scooping him up like my new bride. I took off running for the shoreline with the rest of the crew keeping pace behind me.

  I’d no sooner gotten the bottoms of my feet wet than Solo came to a halt and yelled, “Look!”

  From off in the distance, a bright starburst of light streaked across the water like a shooting star and headed right towards our boat, leaving a whistling sound in its wake. Then in a brilliant burst of light, a fiery explosion threw us all back into the sand. Miguel’s new fishing boat burst into a million pieces, the blast lighting up the night sky, warming our faces from its heat and throwing a hailstorm of shrapnel flying around us.

  I flipped Al over into the wet sand, covering him with my body as pieces of the boat that had been launched into the sky came crashing back to the ground. Glancing sideways, I noticed Solo had done the same with Francesca. The rest of the men crawled away trying to get as far inland as possible.

  When the raining debris finally stopped, Solo looked over at me, his face set in a stony grimace, his angry growl stopping time. “You owe my brother a boat.”

  29

  The next morning, against her brothers’ wishes, Francesca agreed to meet Al and me for breakfast in the resort’s main dining hall at nine. It had been a long, agonizing evening dealing with a horde of angry Cruz brothers while waiting for Beto to grab Miguel’s spare boat and drive it out to Gull Island to rescue us. Despite that, I woke up surprisingly refreshed, possibly because I hadn’t put any alcohol into my system for two nights in a row. So I was pleasantly surprised to wake up that morning with a renewed sense of energy, ready to come up with a new plan to save Pam.