Horizons Beyond the Darkness

by Scott B. Williams

  He paddled the kayak over to the other boat and tied it off to a stanchion on the low side before pulling himself aboard. The companionway was open and he knew Scully was on the settee berth on the same side, where Artie had examined him when they first got there. Tara was no doubt in the forepeak cabin with her daughter, exhausted after the terror of not knowing if she’d ever see her again. Larry whispered Artie’s name out loud to let him know he was aboard, and a moment later his brother stepped up into the cockpit.

  “How is he?”

  “In a lot of pain. But I think he slept some. He’s going to be weak from loss of blood, but he’ll make it.”

  “And be able to walk again?” Larry kept his voice low, hoping Scully wouldn’t hear.

  “Oh yeah. Not for a while, but like I said, he was lucky. The bullet mostly went through the muscles in his calf. I’m sure it nicked the tibia pretty good but it would have been a lot worse if it had hit the bone dead center and shattered it. Most of it is tissue damage probably caused when the bullet tumbled before exiting.”

  “I guess it helped that it was a full metal jacket round. It probably didn’t come apart in there.”

  “Nope. I’m pretty sure it came out in one piece. That doesn’t mean it didn’t tear up a lot of meat though. It’s going to hurt like hell and he probably would have bled to death if his friend hadn’t thought to put that tourniquet on it. Even so, it looks like he lost a lot of blood.”

  “Did you get any sleep, Doc?”

  “Enough, I guess. I had to put the lee cloth up just to stay in the bunk on the high side though.”

  “That’s a damned monohull for you!” Larry grinned. “Always leaning over even when they aren’t moving!”

  “Are we going to be able to get it off this sandbar? It feels to me like it’s planted here to stay. I haven’t felt it budge the slightest since I came aboard.”

  “We’ve got to. I’ve got some ideas, but it’s going to take time to set it up. And we’ve got to plan it around the tides. I want to get on it as soon as possible though, because you never know when a storm might come up. Just because she’s not damaged now doesn’t mean she can’t be.”

  “Then what? What do we do when we get her off? Do we stay here, or find someplace else to anchor?”

  “We can’t stay exactly here, but there are some better cays farther to the southwest in the Jumentos where we could anchor. Or we could go back over to the lower Exumas where we were when we met Thomas and Mindy. I’m going to think about it some more.”

  “I can’t believe the size of their boat. I never would have thought….”

  “I’m familiar with the model. I haven’t seen one this far down island, but I know it’s got a good reputation. Even if I didn’t know it though, I could look at it and tell, and so could Scully. That’s why he sailed over here with them.”

  “I’m glad he did. I’m really glad you don’t have to go back to Florida to look for him.”

  “You and me both! The farther from that place we can get, the better.”

  “I guess those two will be back sometime before dark today, you think?”

  “Hopefully. It looks like the wind is going to hold steady and there’s no sign of weather. A little boat like that is slow though, so who knows? I do want to thank them again for what they did for Scully, both when he got shot and before too.”

  “I wonder what they’ll do next. What if they want to sail with us when we leave these islands.”

  “They can’t. There’s no way that boat could keep up. Bumping a few knots off the Casey Nicole’s cruising speed to sail with the Sarah J. is one thing. But that little boat would be half again slower than her.”

  “That’s what I figured. Besides, it didn’t even work out trying to keep these two together crossing the Gulf.”

  “No, but it would have been doable if not for all those thunderstorms we ran into; not to mention Rebecca’s little stunt. We’re not likely to see that kind of weather down here though. It’s just the tropical storms and hurricanes we’ve got to worry about. Not now, but it won’t be much longer.”

  “It’s always something, isn’t it little brother? I for one would like to just stay put for a while. I’ve had about enough sailing in the last few weeks to last a lifetime. I know it’s what you do, but damn! I don’t see how you stand it.”

  “Well, before it paid the bills. Now, it’s a matter of survival. I know it’s been rough for all of you, and I wish we were in a place where we could chill for a while too, but I never said this was it. This puts us out of reach of the worst dangers back on the mainland, but it’s still not far enough away for long-term. And like I told all of you way back, there are no real all-weather anchorages here that are safe from a major hurricane; at least none that won’t already be full by now. And unfortunately, these latitudes are right in the path of Atlantic hurricanes. With no weather reports to give an advance warning, it’s just too risky to take a chance here come hurricane season.”

  “So where do we go, little brother? Have you figured that out yet?”

  Larry hadn’t. He had lots of ideas and was constantly turning the possibilities over and over in his mind, weighing the pros and cons of each, but he still wasn’t sure. Of course he would discuss them all with the others, even if he were the only one who had been to most of those places. They would have to all more or less agree to whatever decision he made, but he was the only real captain among them, and other than Scully, the only one with real sailing experience. Tara came in at a distant third and his brother and niece and their friends were all learning, but ultimately it came down to him to choose wisely when it came to leaving here. He was the one who was responsible for that decision, and the consequences of it, whatever they turned out to be. That would be a discussion for later though, long after they refloated the Sarah J. and completed the necessary repairs to the Casey Nicole. And besides, Larry still hadn’t had his first cup of morning coffee yet. Until he did he couldn’t begin to answer all his brother’s questions. Tara and Rebecca were finally stirring down below, so he hoped he wouldn’t have long to wait. Now that they were awake, he climbed down into the sharply tilted cabin to see how Scully was looking in the daylight.

  Three

  AS MINDY AND THOMAS stood there watching the approaching boat, she had no doubt now that the men aboard were locals. For one thing, all three were black; the predominate race in this island nation, while most of cruising boat populace was white. As they drew closer, Mindy could also see that two of them were wearing uniforms of some kind, confirming that they were indeed Bahamians.

  “Do you think they are policemen, Thomas? We could be in big trouble for being here without checking in.”

  “Maybe they’ll understand when we tell them our circumstances. I can’t imagine that any customs and immigrations office would have been open recently anyway.”

  Mindy realized Thomas was right. It was likely that countless boats from the U.S. had sailed across to these islands in recent weeks. If it was anything here like it was back in Florida, the authorities on all levels were overwhelmed and mostly out of action. People who worked for such agencies as customs and immigration had families to take care of too, and like everybody else, they were facing huge challenges just to survive. Enforcing the rules just wasn’t much of a priority. But even so, she wondered if it could be different here. She hoped these men would be reasonable, but that remained to be seen.

  The boat slowed as the man steering cut the engine to idle and let it drift bow-first onto the beach. As soon as it touched, the one among them who was not wearing a uniform leapt ashore to pull it up enough that it wouldn’t drift, and then the other two disembarked as well. Mindy could now see that those two were wearing pistols in plain view on their belts. So they were policemen, or at least some kind of law enforcement officers. There were no markings of any kind on their boat though, and no blue lights or antennas or anything else to indicate it was an official patrol boat. It looked to Mindy more like a
battered and hard-used fishing skiff than anything else.

  “Good morning!” Thomas greeted them, making an effort to keep his tone unconcerned, Mindy noted. She smiled and echoed his greeting, hoping the men would reciprocate and the tension would diffuse.

  But the men didn’t return the friendly greeting. The two in uniform looked at them with suspicion, and then glanced around the surrounding beach and nearby palm grove, as if checking to see if anyone else was there before stepping closer.

  “Building a fire and camping on the beach is not permitted here. This is a private island,” the one who’d been steering the boat said.

  “We weren’t camping,” Thomas quickly explained. “We always sleep on our boat. It’s just that we don’t have the space for a proper galley on board, so we have no way to cook on the boat. We came ashore to make breakfast, but we were just getting ready to leave.”

  Mindy saw the man glance at the fire again, and then at the discarded fish bones nearby.

  “Fishing in the Bahamas requires a license. Do you have a fishing license? Where are you from, mon? I don’t see a flag or a homeport on your boat. And you’re not flying the Bahamas courtesy flag that is required to sail in these waters.”

  Mindy could feel her hope sink as she and Thomas were caught off guard by all these questions and facts. No, they did not have a fishing license. Nor did they have a national flag for their boat or a courtesy flag for the country in which they were now sailing. They also had no permit and no legal right to be here, and she feared that was about to become a serious matter.

  “We were just passing through,” Thomas said. “This island was never our destination and we’ve never been here before. We were only seeking a safe refuge because it was too dangerous to remain in Florida. We were nearly killed there right before we left. I’m sorry if we broke any laws. I can pay for the necessary permits and fishing license. I can pay for a courtesy flag if you can tell me where to find one.”

  The man ignored him and walked over to the remains of the cooking fire, examining the ground as if looking for anything else they may have done that wasn’t permitted. Finding nothing but evidence that they had been fishing illegally, he then stated that he needed to inspect the boat.

  “We have all the required safety equipment,” Thomas said. “There are life jackets, flares, and two fire extinguishers on board. We have a hand-held VHF radio too, but of course it doesn’t work now since the solar flare.”

  “I’m not interested in safety equipment. I need to inspect the cargo you have aboard.”

  “Cargo?” Mindy asked. “We don’t have any cargo. You see how tiny our boat is. There’s barely enough room for us and our clothes. We had a good bit of extra food when we started out from Key West, but most of that is gone now.”

  “I am not looking for food. Maybe you are smuggling illegal drugs into my country? Or maybe illegal weapons?”

  Mindy knew her face turned ashen when he mentioned weapons. She hoped he didn’t notice but she knew she and Thomas were royally screwed regardless. They had left the AK-47 on the main bunk in the cabin in plain sight. There was no way the men would miss it even if they just casually glanced inside through the open companionway. The old cowboy-style rifle that Scully had taken from the men who’d attack them in the Keys was under the bunk cushions as well. Thomas had stashed the pistol one of those men had carried in the mesh pocket attached to the bulkhead at the back of the cockpit, where he kept the sunscreen, water bottles and other things needed while sailing. The men would find those too if they did even a casual search. Mindy and Thomas had often heard tales of boaters having their vessels confiscated for illegal contraband all the years they lived in Key West. Was this how their voyage aboard Intrepida was going to end? Was it going to be even worse than that? Mindy could only imagine what the conditions were like in a remote Bahamian jail in the Out Islands—especially now with no power and with food and everything else in short supply. How could they have been so foolish to think they could get away with having guns on their boat? Especially guns that didn’t even belong to them when they were in a foreign country illegally to begin with? Mindy couldn’t see any way out of this unless Thomas could somehow keep them occupied on the beach while she made up some excuse to go to the boat first. She knew there was no foolproof place on board to hide the guns, but she would try her best if possible.

  “I’m sorry, but if you will excuse me, I have to go to the boat to go to the bathroom,” she said to the man doing all the talking. “I’ll be right back, Thomas.” With that she started walking nonchalantly to the water to wade out to Intrepida, but the man stopped her in her tracks with a shout:

  “NO! You will stay here, on the beach.”

  “It will only take a couple of minutes,” Mindy tried.

  Ignoring her, the man turned to the one not in uniform. “Stay here with the woman, Samuel. We will go inspect the boat with the owner.”

  “I am his wife,” Mindy said. “I’m as much the owner as he is. I have personal items—like jewelry and photographs—among my things! I want to be there too if you’re going to go through our belongings. You have to let me.”

  “You will stay on the beach!” the man glared at her with a look that said it was not open to negotiation. “Your husband will be there while we inspect the cargo. I am not interested in your personal items.”

  Mindy knew there was no point in arguing further. She looked at Thomas and gave him a half-hearted smile. He knew what she was thinking because he was undoubtedly thinking the same thing. They had gotten themselves into a situation with no way out. They should never have stayed here alone. No matter how exhausted they were last evening, they should have turned right around and sailed to the Jumentos in the wake of the big catamaran. Now there was no one who could help them and no one to even know what became of them if they ended up in prison.

  The one the man called Samuel glanced at her but seemed indifferent as the other two pushed their skiff back into the water, motioning for Thomas to get in with them. Mindy stood on the beach watching, knowing it was just a matter of minutes until the weapons were discovered. She stepped back around to the other side of the still-smoldering fire, wanting to put something between herself and the man watching her. She was afraid the other two would order him to grab her when they discovered the weapons and arrested Thomas. Samuel kept his distance, but Mindy knew he would stop her if she tried to get back to the boat. All she could do was wait for the inevitable to see what would happen next.

  She watched the men tie up the battered skiff alongside Intrepida’s shiny hull with no regard to the damage it would do. Thomas must be fuming about that, Mindy knew, but she couldn’t hear what was being said from where she stood. It became apparent though that he was ordered to remain in the skiff, as the two men climbed aboard Intrepida without him. Mindy saw them glancing around the decks and up to the top of the mast. One of them lifted the lids of the cockpit lockers but apparently didn’t see the pistol in the mesh pocket. The other one must have looked into the cabin and spotted the AK at that point, because both of them quickly disappeared below, leaving Thomas sitting in the skiff. Mindy saw him suddenly get to his feet once the men were out of sight and reach over through the lifelines into Intrepida’s cockpit. She realized in an instant what he was doing. He was no doubt thinking he could grab the pistol while the men weren’t looking and drop it overboard.

  “THOMAS! NO!!!”

  Thomas ignored her shout, his head halfway into the cockpit as he stretched as far he could reach. She saw him quickly pull his arm back, with something in his hand, and then she heard a gunshot. At first, she thought Thomas had done the unthinkable—that he had foolishly fired the pistol when he grabbed it, but then she saw him suddenly bend at the knees, catching himself from falling only by grabbing onto Intrepida’s toe rails as the pistol slipped from his hands and into the water. She saw one of the men emerge from the cabin with his own pistol pointing at Thomas and before she could process what she
was seeing, three more gunshots followed the first. Thomas slumped to the gunwale of the skiff, his weight pushing it away from the sailboat as he splashed heavily into the water between the two vessels. At the same time, Mindy saw the second man come out of the cabin with the AK-47 in hand.

  “NOOOO!!!” Mindy screamed. “THOMAS!” She had already started towards the water when one of the men on the boat yelled to their friend on the beach to stop her. The man quickly moved to intercept her and Mindy knew that if he got his hands on her, she wouldn’t have a chance. They had just killed Thomas, and she was going to be next! She stopped immediately and retreated back to the fire pit, reaching for the only thing she could see nearby that might possibly serve as a weapon—a five-foot-long hardwood pole that they had found among the driftwood the evening before and had used as a poker for the fire. The tip had been pushed into the coals that morning and was still glowing red hot when Mindy picked it up. Her opponent was unarmed but a lot bigger, and seemed completely unconcerned about her burning stick. Mindy knew that he would quickly disarm her if she let him get close enough, but she had no intention of doing so.

  The smooth piece of wood was about an inch and a half in diameter and quite straight. The weight and balance was good, and Mindy knew she had only one chance to use it to maximum effect. She shifted her grip imperceptibly as the man approached, no doubt expecting her to try and use it like a club to fend him off. Instead, Mindy quickly drew her arm back and hurled the stick like a spear. It was something she had practiced when she and Thomas were still in the Keys, using her underwater pole spear as a regular throwing spear while wading the shallows among the mangroves. She had successfully taken fish that way, and her practice was rewarded when the burning tip of the stick struck the man squarely in the face when he was some five or six paces away. Mindy lost no time waiting to see the effect of her hit. She turned and ran for her life in the opposite direction, dashing into the grove of tall coconut palms that stood between the edge of the beach and the dense scrub forest of the island’s interior.