Randy eased back on the throttle, and the PD SAFE boat settled as the Great South Bay roiled around it. Four hundred yards off, the sea scorpion pushed through the water, following the slick to the center of the bay. The rain stopped, but thick clouds still obscured the sun and the wind came from the north, kicking up waves and turning the bay into a churning mess. The eye of Dan, now a Category 1 hurricane, was one hundred miles to the east, but still causing severe conditions. Large patches of seaweed dotted the surface along with a covering of oil that had spread out from the chum trail.
“How do you want to do this?” Tanner asked.
Silva stared through the pilothouse window at the creature’s tail as it scythed over the water, the tips of its antennas flopping about. He said nothing. Tanner figured he was thinking of the four men he’d lost fighting the last scorpion. Tanner had the same doubts and wounds, so he understood what Silva was going through. It’s not an easy thing being responsible for the lives of others, and when you lose one of your people, the pain digs that much deeper.
“Silva?” Tanner said. He put a hand on the man’s shoulder.
Silva turned and smiled. “I’m all right,” he said. “Trying to calculate our odds.”
Randy chuckled, and said, “Never tell me the odds.”
“Easy, Han,” Tanner said.
“We can try to lure the thing to us, or go at it head-on,” Silva said. “Either way, the sonic cannon won’t be much use in our attack. It’ll just drive the beast away. We’ll use it as a failsafe in case we need to clear the creature from the area.”
“We haven’t had much luck drawing the thing out,” Randy told him. “We’ve tried that several times with little success.”
“So you vote direct attack?”
“Since when is this a democracy?” Tanner said.
“Since I need you guys,” Silva said. “You ever see me pull rank unless it really mattered?”
“No.”
“People who are always telling you how powerful and important they are usually aren’t,” Silva said.
“I vote sneak attack,” Tanner said. “Let’s roll up on it, guns blazing, and see if we can get a solid shot with the Stinger. Randy, you pilot the boat, and I’ll distract and annoy the scorpion with machine gun fire. Leo can stand by with the cannon. Silva, all you have to do is stay upright so you can fire the kill shot. All that make sense?”
Silva and Randy nodded.
“Remember, this thing hasn’t been hit before that we know of,” Silva said. “It’s got all of its fingers and toes and is experiencing all this for the first time. We barely took down its pal who’d lost its claws, an antenna, and a poolful of blood. So be on edge, take nothing for granted, and keep your head on a swivel.”
“You think we should call in backup now that we’ve got in it in our sights?” Randy said.
“No,” Tanner and Silva said at the same time.
“By the time they get here, it could have disappeared inland,” Silva said.
“They had their shot, and they blew it,” Tanner added. “This thing is ours, and I’ll have it for Jefferson, and Sal, and all the rest its kind has killed. Let Silva and I get into position, then ram the boat up its gut.”
“Aye aye, my captain,” Randy said.
Tanner checked his Glock as he and Silva went out on deck. He didn’t think he’d need the handgun, but one never knew. Tanner went to the bow and braced himself against the gunnel, resting the MK18’s gun barrel on his forearm.
The SAFE boat picked up speed and was on plane in seconds, even in the rough surf. The boat pounded through the waves, spraying seawater. Tanner was drenched before the boat was at top speed, and to his left, Silva covered the missile launcher beneath his jacket.
They were two hundred yards out and the sea scorpion hadn’t changed course. It looked to be heading back to Carey Beach for another steak. Tanner sighted the machine gun on the creature and jacked a shell into the chamber.
The hum started when they were fifty yards out, and it quickly changed to the frantic staccato bleating that marked the beast as upset. When they were twenty yards out, Tanner opened up with his MK18, peppering the creature with bullets. The shots slapped against the water and the creature’s tail. Tanner arced the gun up and concentrated fire on the antennas.
The sea scorpion breached with a massive shriek, rolling in the water and sending waves crashing into the SAFE boat and over the gunnels. For an instant, the boat swamped, but the water drained as Tanner continued to fire. Silva stood behind him, missile launcher cocked on his shoulder as he peered through the targeting sight. The beast lurched forward, slamming into the SAFE boat and sending Silva skidding over the sloping deck. He dropped the missile launcher, and it slid across the deck and came to rest against the gunnel. The scorpion’s tail stabbed wildly at the water, just missing the boat.
“Back us away,” Tanner yelled.
The boat didn’t move.
When he looked to the pilothouse, he saw Randy working the throttle, trying to start the engines. The surge of water that swamped the boat had stalled the motors, and Tanner heard their flywheels spinning, but the motors didn’t catch.
The sea scorpion’s tail struck the deck three feet from where Tanner stood. Silva yelped and rolled toward the missile launcher. Tanner dove for cover as a torrent of water exploded through the hole in the deck. Tanner lost his MK18 as he was tossed around in the heaving water and he tried to keep himself from getting thrown from the sinking boat.
The scorpion wailed as Leo pointed the sound cannon. The creature’s huge stinking maw peeled back as it bit down on the SAFE boat. The motors lifted from the water as the bow was crunched in the creature’s massive jaws. Its teeth and fangs crushed the vessel and tore two chambers from the gunnel.
“Leo!” Tanner yelled.
The boy and his sound cannon were caught in a claw, and Tanner let loose with a guttural scream that would have scared most animals, but not the scorpion. The claw closed tight and the accompanying crunch as Leo was cut in two sent a surge of anger through Tanner.
Silva waded toward the pilothouse, the launcher over his shoulder. The SAFE boat was going down, but Randy was aft, still trying to get the boat’s motors going. Silva climbed onto the roof of the pilothouse and sat with his feet braced against the roof’s curved lip, the missile launcher poised on his shoulder.
“Get it to come at us again if you can,” Silva yelled over the roaring and confusion.
Tanner pulled his Glock and fired from where he lay prone on the slanting deck, water rising around him. He pulled the trigger slowly, placing his shots all around the creature’s head, attempting to aggravate it.
The beast launched from the water with a push that thrust the SAFE boat backward and up. The sea scorpion roared, its giant claws clamping down on the boat as it opened its jaws for a killing strike.
Silva fired the Stinger and it hissed from the tube and flew into the creature’s mouth.
The beast and sea exploded and the SAFE boat rose on the tumult as the blast knocked the vessel backward. Tanner was tossed from the boat, away from the maelstrom. He spun through the air, the surrounding scene a fragmented mess of water, seaweed, burning sea scorpion parts, and boat debris. Bay water crushed him, and pieces of the creature and sections of their boat flew in every direction, slapping the bay’s surface like gunshots.
Randy’s bloody body cartwheeled across the sky, and Tanner felt himself crying even as he was tossed like a piece of garbage into the sea.
Tanner face-planted on the surface, and sucked in water as he tried to breathe. His eyes were open, but he saw only swirling green water filled with red and blue blood. He rolled, and the cloudy sky filled his vision. Fiery debris slapped the water around him, and pain ran through every part of his body. His inflatable PFD was on fire and he unsnapped it and let it float away. Pieces of the sea scorpion and the SAFE boat pelted him, hitting his face and arms as he sank into the brackish water.
He sucked in air a
nd his body floated upward as oxygen filled his lungs and made him more buoyant. A black smoke cloud pushed over the water and engulfed him, and Tanner’s thoughts drifted to Jefferson, Sal, Leo, and Randy. Their faces were fixed in his field of vision, floating above the water and beckoning him to join them.
The heaving sea pushed him from the tumult, and he got twisted around again. He was going under. Then his mother and father were there, the two voices in his head that kept him from falling into the abyss. They were both yelling at him, screaming for him to listen, but he could hardly hear them over the thunder of the water.
His ears popped, and he grabbed his head in pain.
“Swim, ya moron. Swim!” his parents said.
His right arm, and then his left, stroked the water, and his legs joined in, and soon he was floating on the surface, sucking in air like it was wine and he’d just crossed the desert.
“Tanner?” The voice seemed like far-off echoes coming from another place and time.
Tanner lifted his head, but couldn’t see who was calling him through the smoke and rain.
Then a gust of wind drew away the smoke. Silva tread water thirty yards away, and when he saw Tanner, he yelled, “You all right?”
“I think so. You?”
“Little shaken up and I might’ve broken a few bones, but I’ll live.”
“Do you see Randy?”
Silva didn’t answer.
Tanner’s panicked eyes darted from side to side, searching the burning flotsam for his friend, but he couldn’t find him amongst the debris and scorpion parts floating on the water. The creature’s tail was still mostly intact, and its two claws floated listlessly on the surface, but the creature’s head was completely blown away.
A piece of the SAFE boat exploded and fire and smoke swept across the water and scorched Tanner’s face. He screamed. Randy’s wife Tina filled his mind, and the children stared him with eyes that asked where their father was and why he wasn’t coming home ever again. A siren wailed in the distance, but Tanner didn’t care. He went limp and let himself sink below the surface. The last thing he saw before the swirling green water took him was the orange pontoons of a Coast Guard boat.
38
Blinding white light. Tanner struggled to open his eyes, but they remained pasted shut, and he realized they were bandaged. He tried to move his arms, but his right shoulder ached with the effort. His left hand found his face, and he traced coarse stitches that ran over his cheek like a forlorn railroad track. He wiggled his toes. His good hand groped downward, checking his package and sliding up his chest, and then moving over to his right arm. Needles protruded from his forearm and tubes ran away to what he imagined where bags filled with blood and other nutrients. He wasn’t dead, that was for sure.
Tanner tried to remove the bandages from his eyes and a soft hand stopped him.
“Don’t do that, Nate. Leave those be.” It was a female voice, low and melodious.
“Tina?”
“Yes.”
Tanner’s stomach went cold, and he wished he was anywhere else on the planet. Tears leaked from his eyes, but she couldn’t see them because of the dressings. He didn’t know what to say. This was his worst nightmare come true. Had she been waiting for him to wake just so she could chastise him? Blame him for Randy’s death? Would she be wrong if that’s what she did?
He was responsible. He’d let the husband and father of two go into harm’s way when it hadn’t been necessary. They could have waited for the Navy. He could have backed off. He could have, he could have, but he didn’t.
What to say? What was there to say? Randy was an adult who made his own decisions and his children would go through life knowing their father was a hero and that was some consolation, but not a very good one. There’d be nobody there to teach Fred baseball, and bring Tara to dance class on Tuesdays, where Randy used to sit and watch his daughter dance with a lopsided foolish smile on his face, pride leaking from every pore. He’d have to be the one to do those things. Tanner had always viewed Randy family as his, but now he had to step up.
“How do you feel?” Tina said.
Why she cared, he didn’t know. Maybe she wanted him to recover so she could kick him in the balls herself. “Like I got run over by a truck,” he said. “But I’ll live.” He cringed. His poor choice of words stung, and he was thankful he couldn’t see Tina’s face.
“That’s good to know,” she said.
“How long have I been here?”
“Two days. Your children and Audrey have been by your side the entire time. They went home to rest a little while and I’m covering for them.”
“Covering?”
“We didn’t want you to be alone when you woke up. Good thing, because you would have.”
Tanner’s stomach went cold when he realized he hadn’t apologized. Hadn’t even asked how she was, how the children were. How they were taking the loss of their father. “Are you all right, Tina? The kids?”
“A little frazzled, but OK, I guess,” she said.
A little frazzled? “I’m sorry, Tina. So sorry.” Beneath his bandages, he cried again, all the sorrow rushing back like the tide. He remembered getting blown off the boat, seeing Randy’s mangled body cartwheel across the sky.
“Don’t be. We’re all just happy you’re OK,” Tina said.
Was it possible she didn’t blame him? “How are the children taking it?”
“They’re enjoying being out of school, though with things getting back to some semblance of order, the schools will be starting up again on Monday. Thanks to somebody, Dan wasn’t too bad because they’ve already cut back winter recess and canceled spring break.”
Confusion filled him and a flutter of hope. “I meant Randy, how are they taking Randy’s death?”
Tina laughed. “I see. Tanner, Randy’s not dead, he’s two doors down.”
***
After much cajoling, Tina organized a fifty-foot trek from Tanner’s room to Randy’s. Tanner’s eyes had been burned by the blast, and he’d be wearing bandages for a few more days, but with Tina’s help, he hobbled to his friend’s bedside.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Tina said, as she left the room.
“You look like shit.” Randy’s voice brought a joy Tanner had never experienced. He’d lost something special, only to discover he hadn’t lost it at all.
“That’s what I’m told. How the hell are you still here? What the hell are you made of? I saw you fly through the air. Thought you were gone.”
Randy chuckled. “Me too, brother. It was luck, pure and simple.”
“What do you mean?” Tanner said.
“The explosion blew me from the boat, just like you and Silva, but my PFD inflated. I don’t remember pulling the cord, or hearing the CO2 rush into the bags. You know the sound.”
He did.
“Anyway, they say I was tossed seventy feet through the air, clear of most of the wreckage. The Coast Guard boat found me. I broke my left leg in four spots and it needs surgery. It hit the Hondas as I was thrown backward. The docs say I might have a limp for the rest of my life. I asked if I could get a peg leg.” Tanner laughed. “I’ve got a concussion, contusions and bruises all over my body, and my chest still hurts when I breathe, but other than that, everything’s good.”
Tanner couldn’t express the joy he felt. “Man, we got lucky this time.”
“Oh, and as predicted, LS is at my place until you get out of this prison,” Randy said.
“Thanks.” Awkward silence. “Listen, I’m sorry I…” Tanner still couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Sorry I’ve been such a jerk. You were right to call me out on my drinking,”
“Tanner, I—”
“No. You were right. I need to make some changes and I love you for telling me so, even if you didn’t use those exact words.”
“You’ve seen Audrey?”
“Haven’t seen shit, but yeah, she was around earlier,” Tanner said.
“She’s been her
e the whole time.”
Tanner’s stomach burned as he remembered his ex-wife’s boyfriend. “What does her boyfriend think of that?”
“She dumped him when you got hurt. I think, if you go to counseling and take a few ‘teach me not to be an asshole’ classes, she might take you back.”
“And Silva?”
“No sign of him,” Randy said. “You know those guys. He’s probably already halfway around the world dealing with the next crisis.”
“We got real lucky this time, bud. Real lucky.”
“I know,” Randy said. “As I flew through the air, I thought it was over.”
“Me too.”
“They say when you can break out of here?”
“Naw. You?”
“Tomorrow. We’re getting some kind of award for bravery or some shit when you get out.”
“Award? I figured we’d be buying a deli and living off Tina’s inheritance,” Tanner said.
“Nope. When stuff goes right and you win, all manner of transgressions are forgotten. They’re saying we were following the captain’s orders. He’s being praised for gutsy thinking. The kind of guy who should run things someday.”
“Whatever,” Tanner said. He was happy for Quinn, even if his old friend was full of shit.
“I’m gonna buzz the nurse and get something to eat. You want anything?”
“Yeah, I could eat.”
***
Four days later, Hurricane Dan had passed the island by, and Tanner was released from the hospital. His vision was still blurry and overly bright, but the docs said that was normal and would fade in time. Randy needed three operations to fix his leg, but he’d gotten out of his wheelchair at the curb of Brookhaven Hospital, and hobbled the last few steps to the car.
Except for tree crumbs along the road, the island was getting back to normal. Dan hadn’t added much to the existing damage from Tristin, and power had been restored to most homes. People were getting back to work and the children were starting school. The federal government sent aid and troops, and the cleanup and rebuilding was underway, though there were several areas still under review. Fireplace Neck, which probably shouldn’t have been built in the first place, would not be allowed to rebuild. The Army Core of Engineers determined the likelihood of the town getting destroyed by a storm again in the next twenty years was over eighty percent, and no insurance companies would write a policy with that kind of risk. That battle had been quick, unlike many others that would drag on for years. Insurance companies didn’t want to pay, they never do, and many houses along the shoreline were boarded up and would be for a long time.
The Breach Page 20