Drunk on a Boat

by Zane Mitchell

  Dexter continued to holler. “You fucker! You shot my fucking finger off!”

  “You took my brother’s finger, you asshole!” shouted Mack. I could hear her moving across the room towards Dexter.

  “A finger for a finger, you piece of shit!” I yelled back, unsure of what was happening.

  “It’s an eye for an eye, Drunk,” shouted Al from somewhere near the sofa.

  My eyes still hadn’t readjusted to the lack of light. I couldn’t see anything and was shocked to hear Al’s voice. “Al?” I breathed. “You want me to take his eye too?”

  “Drunk, I’m gonna kill you, you motherfucker,” shouted Mack.

  “It’s gonna be pretty hard to kill him when I’ve got your gun,” said Al.

  “Al? You have her gun?”

  “Yeah, Drunk. Here, catch!”

  “Al, no!” I heard Al’s grunt as he tossed the gun across the room in my general direction. I ducked. The gun smacked against something hard behind me and bounced off things on its way to the floor. A shot rang out, causing to me to duck again. “Shit! Frankie, are you alright?”

  I felt Frankie move next to me. “Yeah, I’m fine, Danny. Hurry, get the gun.”

  I crawled forward, feeling around on the floor, searching blindly. “For crying out loud, Al, who throws a fucking loaded gun?”

  I could hear Mack on the other side of the room, rifling through Dexter’s desk now.

  I patted around to the right of me, still unable to find the weapon Al had tossed.

  “It’s on your other side, Drunk. Don’t you see it?”

  “No, I don’t fucking see it. I can’t see shit.”

  “I can see it. It’s right there. Move your hand.”

  My hand moved. Still nothing.

  “No, move your other hand. Your left hand.”

  I followed Al’s directions, patting the floor. Suddenly the lights turned on.

  I spun around to see Mack standing behind Dexter’s desk, holding a revolver on me. Dexter lay on the floor behind the desk, seemingly unconscious.

  “You always were one step behind, Drunk. When are you gonna get your shit together?” Mack shot me a smarmy grin, then hoisted the bag of money up onto her shoulder and cocked her gun. “Now you’re gonna walk the plank, and I’m gonna sail out of here with all of your money because this should’ve ended days ago. But like my aunt always says, better late than never.”

  Two back-to-back shots fired out, hitting Mack squarely in each shoulder. I looked back and saw Francesca kneeling on the floor with her gun drawn.

  Stunned, Mack looked down at herself as her gun clattered to the floor. Blood gushed from both bullet wounds. “Fuck!” screamed Mack. “You bitch! You shot me!”

  The duffle bag of money slid off her shoulder and dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. Mack slid to the ground.

  “Frankie!” I said, my smile widening. “You got her!”

  Frankie grinned. “What can I say? I’m a crack shot.”

  “Yeah, you are!” With the lights on, I finally saw the gun that Al had thrown me in the darkness. I reached down and picked it up. “Thanks for the gun, Al.” I glanced over at him to see him now lying facedown on the ground. “Oh my God, Al!”

  Francesca and I rushed to help him.

  “He’s alive,” she said.

  Relieve washed over me just as a noise behind me caught my attention. I spun around to see Dexter grabbing the bag of money and rushing towards the outer deck.

  “I’ll take care of Al. Go after him, Danny!”

  I fired the gun in my hand at Dexter. Three shots sank into the bag of money he carried over his shoulder. Dexter kept running. I followed him out onto the outer deck.

  The rain had finally stopped, but the wind blew fiercely. I chased Dexter, cornering him near the bow of the ship. Weaponless, he swung the bag of money at me. I ducked and he missed, but the bag hit the railing. He swung wildly at me again and again hit the railing. This time I heard the sound of material tearing apart. He swung at me a third time, and this time the bag tore open. Money began to pour from the bottom of the bag. Apparently when they’d checked the money for authenticity, they’d unwrapped all the bundles. Now crisp green hundred-dollar bills flew up into the air, the storm sucking them from the open bag. They swirled around in the sky like a cyclone of cold, hard cash.

  “My money!” screamed Dexter, reaching wildly for the money as it whirled around his face.

  I reached out, grabbed ahold of his shirt and pulled him into me. Finally, I had a chance to do what I’d been wanting to do. I kept a hold of his collar and punched him repeatedly in the face until blood spurted from his nose and his eyes went blank. I gave him one more punch, sending him over the railing of the yacht to the water below. “No, Dexter,” I sighed. “It was my money.” I looked down at the nearly empty bag. “At least, it was my money.”

  Then I heard the sound of a scream from the cabin. I went racing back inside to find Mack holding a gun on Francesca. “What the…”

  Mack stood with her back pressed up against the bulkhead. Blood oozed down both sides of her body, and she was barely able to hold the gun up. “This bitch ruined everything!” said Mack weakly. “She’s gotta go.”

  “Drop the gun, Mack,” I said evening, holding my gun on her.

  “No, you drop the gun, Drunk,” she spat back. “Or else your girlfriend eats a fucking bullet.”

  I slowly lowered my gun to the ground.

  Francesca had her hands out defensively. “Just relax, Mack. Let’s get you some medical attention.”

  “Shut up! This is all your fault!”

  “My fault?”

  Mack nodded weakly. “Drunk couldn’t have figured out how to find us if you hadn’t gotten involved. He’s fucking clueless.”

  “You underestimate him, Mack. He’s a smart guy. He’s the one that figured out it was you all along. Not me.”

  “Took him long enough,” she spat. Her words were now slurred as she slowly backed out of the open hatch towards the outer deck.

  When she got outside, her back hit against the railing. She gave a half-smile. “Bye-bye, Francesca.”

  A shot rang out. My heart lurched as my head swiveled to look at Francesca. I rushed to her side. “Frankie!” I yelled, holding her, my eyes searching for her bullet wound. “Where’re you hit?”

  “I wasn’t hit, Danny. Look!” She pointed in Mack’s direction.

  I turned to follow Francesca’s finger. Mack had a bullet hole between her eyes. She sank to the deck.

  I couldn’t believe what I saw, I looked behind me to see Solo holding his rifle on Mack. He put the gun down and smiled at his sister. “Now we’re even, Panchita.”

  Francesca rushed to her brother’s side and threw her arms around his shoulders. “Totally even.”

  “A little help over here?” called Al. Francesca had gotten him as far as the sofa before Mack had pulled the gun on her.

  “Al!” I said, rushing to his side.

  “Holy moly,” said Al, shaking his head, as Solo and I each got an arm under his armpit and helped him to his feet.

  “Al, are you alright?” asked Francesca.

  Al looked down at his bandaged hand. “I dunno,” he slurred. “But I think when whatever they gave me wears off, this might hurt a little.”

  “Yeah, I think so too. Come on. We gotta get you out of here.”

  We helped Al back down the stairs, where we discovered Beto and Diego finishing up tying up the three men.

  “Al!” said Diego. “You’re alive!”

  “I’m alive,” parroted Al with a weak nod. “Thanks for helping Drunk rescue me.”

  “We were glad to be able to help,” said Diego.

  “And we’re glad you’re alright,” said Solo. “Now, we really should get moving. I think we’ll drive the yacht back to Paradise Isle. The police are going to want to have it for evidence. We’ll tow Miguel’s boat back.”

  “I’ll go tell Rico to have Miguel pull
the boat up here,” said Diego, starting towards the stern of the ship.

  Seconds later, he was back. “They’re gone!”

  Solo’s brows lowered. “What?”

  “Rico and Pam. They’re not back there. The dinghy’s gone.”

  Francesca and I helped Al to the sofa in the saloon and then met up with her brothers at the stern. The dinghy was indeed nowhere to be seen.

  “What the hell?” cursed Solo, looking around. “Where’d they go?”

  “Rico must’ve taken Pam back to the boat,” said Francesca.

  Solo shook his head. “Even if he did, they should be back and waiting for us by now. Something must’ve happened.”

  He climbed the steps back to the aft deck and scanned the horizon looking for his lights. Finally, he heard the sound of shouts on the starboard side of the ship.

  “Someone wanna give us a hand?” called out Miguel. We all rushed to the port side of the boat and looked down to see Miguel and Rico idling in their charter boat next to the ship. A water-logged Dexter was lying on the floor of the boat, and Miguel and Rico were busy seining hundred-dollar bills off the top of the water.

  My eyes brightened. “My money!”

  48

  The sun was just starting to come up when we finally made it back to the King’s Bay Marina. Francesca had called ahead, and a team of officers and paramedics were waiting for us at the dock. Dexter, real name Sam Decatur, from Hinton, West Virginia, was handcuffed now and chained up in the stateroom that Pam had been kept in. I’d checked on the man several times to ensure that he hadn’t figured out a way to escape and found that he’d finally cried himself to sleep after discovering that his sister, whose real name was Alison Decatur, was dead.

  Pam and Al both spent the ride back dozing on the U-shaped sofa in the saloon. Despite the fact that they’d woken during the action, the drugs in their systems still fought against their consciousness, and they’d had difficulty staying awake during the return sail back to the island. I still hadn’t called Evie to tell her what had happened. But I had shot her a text saying that I’d found Al and he was alive, but that we weren’t able to talk. I figured I’d ask her to meet us at the hospital once we finally set foot on Paradise Isle sand.

  Francesca and I had taken up residence on the smaller three-person sofa across from Pam and Al. We’d spent much of the ride talking about everything that had happened and keeping a close watch on the battered duo. Eventually Francesca’s head had gotten heavy on my shoulder and I’d leaned my head against hers, and the next thing I knew, we were being awoken by the sounds of her brothers preparing to dock.

  At that point, Solo strode over to me and handed me the bag of money he and his brothers had managed to recover from the ocean. Both the bag and the money were soaking wet, and it was only a small portion of the original seven million dollars, but it was still a hefty chunk of change. “Well, I guess this rightfully belongs to you, Drunk.”

  I took it from him and nodded. “Thanks, Solo. I sure appreciate everything you’ve done for Pam, for Al, and for myself.”

  Francesca stood up then and looked at her brother. “Hold up, Solo.” She turned to look down at me and then promptly retracted the bag from my lap and handed it back to her brother. “Miguel and Rico collected the majority of this money, Solo.”

  I gawked at her, unable to speak.

  She scratched her chin. “What was it that you said to me, Drunk? Finders keepers, losers weepers?”

  “No, I couldn’t,” Solo began, handing me the bag back.

  Before I could get a word out, she continued.

  “I mean, unless you want to explain to the cops up there at the marina where this money came from originally and see if they agree that the cardinal rule is indeed finders keepers, losers weepers.” Francesca grinned.

  I stared at her, my eyes wide. Then I looked at the bag, and then I glanced over at Al and Pam, who quietly dozed. We’d gotten them back. That was all that mattered. I nodded. I was pretty sure I’d have gotten to that conclusion on my own at some point. Even without her help. I pushed the bag back towards Solo. “I owed your brother a boat, Solo. There should be enough in there with interest.” Even though I didn’t know how much was in the bag, I was sure it was a hell of a lot more than the price of a new charter boat. But without the Cruz brothers, I wouldn’t have Al back. And instead of calling Evie and telling her to meet me at the hospital, I’d be telling her to meet me at the morgue.

  Solo tried to hand the bag back to me. “You really don’t have to give it all away.”

  I shook my head and shoved the bag towards him again. “I do have to. I appreciate all of your help. You guys deserve that money. And besides, I’ve got a great job, some great friends, and the interest that had accrued on seven million dollars over the last two months. I’m gonna be just fine.”

  Francesca smiled and sat back down next to me. I put my arm over her shoulder, and she took hold of my hand. “You’re well on your way to being a good guy, Danny. I have faith in you.”

  I snuggled in close to her and kissed her forehead. “Thanks, Frankie. Thanks to you, I have faith in me too.”

  49

  I pulled the resort car to a stop in front of the Paradise Isle International Airport, popped the trunk, and glanced over at the woman sitting next to me. Sunglasses covered the lingering bruises on her face. Her tanned skin, borderlining on pink, glowed, and her long blonde hair was tied up on top of her head in a simple bun.

  “Thanks for everything, Danny,” she whispered, turning to look at me.

  Two weeks had passed since her ordeal had ended. Pam had spent the first week at the hospital and the police station, both getting over her injuries and answering questions about the Decatur siblings. And she’d spent the second week on the beach, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. The PTSD she faced after the ordeal made her scared to stay in a room alone, so I’d let her stay at my cottage with me. Of course, I’d slept in the living room on a blowup mattress and she’d taken my bed, but we’d made it work.

  “I’m sorry you got mixed up in all of that.”

  “I know you are,” she said, tears springing into her eyes for the millionth time that week. “I’m sorry for what I put you through too. I know now that I shouldn’t have come after you.”

  I sighed and leaned my head back against the headrest. While it was true that things would’ve been a lot better for me if Pam had never come in the first place, mainly because I’d still have my seven million dollars and Al’s finger would still be able to bend at the knuckle, it would’ve only been temporary. Ultimately, Mack would’ve probably found another way to swindle the money out of me. But truth be told, she’d probably done me some good. “We were able to talk things out,” I said. “I probably needed that for closure.”

  She nodded and dabbed her tissue against the corners of her eyes. “Yeah. I needed the closure too. But it was silly of me to have held out hope that you’d be able to forgive me.”

  Forgive.

  Manny’s words that I’d heard when all this had first begun replayed in my head. “Hate’s a double-edged sword, man. You can’t cut her without cutting yourself.” I hadn’t taken him seriously then, but the week’s events had proven firsthand that he’d been right.

  I shook my head at Pam.

  “No, it’s not silly of you, Pam. I forgive you.” I knew the last thing she needed was my anger and my hatred riding on her shoulders while she tried to deal with the abuse she’d suffered during her abduction. I knew she needed my forgiveness in order to put all of the ugliness behind her. And I knew I needed to let the hate go in order to move on with my life. I couldn’t let that double-edged sword cut either of us anymore. I wanted us both to be able to heal.

  She looked at me with surprise. “You do?”

  I nodded. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I wish things hadn’t gone down the way they did, but I’m not gonna hold on to that anger anymore. It’s not healthy for me, and after everything
you’ve been through, it’s not going to help you recover.” I smiled at her. “And I want you to recover, Pam.”

  She smiled and then leaned across the center console and threw her arms around my shoulders. “Oh, Danny, thank you!”

  Even though I’d forgiven her, I wasn’t exactly excited about the hugging. I patted her back stiffly and let her have her closure.

  She sat back up in her seat, sniffling. “You have no idea what that means to me to hear that you forgive me.”

  “I think I get it,” I promised her. “It needed to be done. And I hope that you’ll be able to forgive me for being so cavalier with the kidnappers.”

  Pam blotted her eyes. “How about we just call it even?” she said, giggling through her tears.

  I smiled. “Sure.”

  We sat in silence for a long moment. She looked out the window at the airplane on the tarmac. “Well, I suppose this is it, then.”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “How long are you gonna stay in Paradise, Danny?”

  I shrugged and looked back towards the main part of the island. “I don’t know. As long as I feel wanted here, I guess.”

  “I really like Al.”

  “Yeah,” I said with a smile. “He’s a great guy.”

  “And Evie.”

  I nodded.

  “I’m glad they’ll be here to take care of you, Danny.”

  “I can take care of myself, Pam. I’ll be okay.”

  She reached out and squeezed my hand. “I know you will be. I’ll miss you.”

  My mouth opened. I knew the right thing in that moment was to repeat the sentiment. But I wasn’t quite there yet.

  She patted me. “It’s okay. I know you won’t miss me. But I really will miss you. You were good to me, Danny. And I know I was the one that messed everything up.” She leaned across the center console one more time and kissed me on the cheek. “Goodbye, Danny.”