Landfall: Islands in the Aftermath

by Scott B. Williams

  “You’ve got that right.”

  “Hey, can we stop for a minute on one of these little islands? I really need to go to the bathroom.”

  “Sure. It doesn’t look like there’s anyone around. I’ll land on that beach straight ahead.”

  There were four little cays strung out south of Staniel on the way to Bitter Guana. The largest one had a deep cove near the south end and this was where Larry steered, easing the bow of the dinghy up to the edge of a narrow beach.

  “I’ve got to go too,” he said. “I’ll meet you back here in a few minutes. Don’t wander off too far.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  Larry had brought a small Danforth anchor along in the dinghy and he carried it up onto the sand and set it with just a short length of anchor line out to hold the dinghy to the beach. Jessica picked her way through the coral rocks in the direction of the interior and Larry walked west along the beach to the end of the cove. Thinking they were alone there and not planning to go far from the dinghy, he left the shotgun where it was, still partially hidden by the life jackets piled on top of it. He immediately realized his mistake as two men carrying rifles stepped out of the scrub between him and the dinghy when he had turned to walk back to it.

  “Hold it right where you are, mon! Don’t make me shoot.”

  The two men were 15 or 20 yards away; both apparently local islanders, dressed in ragged shorts and T-shirts and carrying old, weather-beaten weapons that looked like bolt-action .22 hunting rifles. One was aiming his from the hip in Larry’s general direction, and the other turned to intercept Jessica as she emerged on the scene to make her way back towards the dinghy.

  “Hey, we don’t have anything you want, and we’re not here to make trouble. We were just stopping here for five minutes and passing on.” Larry hoped this was all a misunderstanding and that the men were just reacting defensively to strangers.

  “Got somet’ing we want, mon—de boat! You don’t move, you an’ de woman, you don’t get hurt. Try to get in de way, you gonna get shot. You got dat, mon?”

  Jessica was looking at him now from where she was facing the other gunman. Larry felt like a complete idiot for leaving that shotgun in the dinghy, though he also realized that if he’d brought it he might have gotten shot in the back before he even saw these two. He had no doubt they meant what they said. The one facing him looked to be in his forties, and the other perhaps a decade younger. Both were lean and hard, and had a desperation about them that told him they would stop at nothing to get that dinghy with its sail rig.

  “So, you’re going to take our boat, mon. And leave us stranded here on this rock with no way off, no water, no nothing…”

  “Better stranded den dead, mon. Got a little dinghy on de other side. When we goin’ you habin’ dat one. But we need de sailboat an’ we goin’ now.”

  They directed Jessica over to the end of the beach where Larry was standing and the younger one waded out with the anchor and got in the dinghy while the other backed slowly away from Larry. When the one in the boat shouted with joy, Larry saw that he had found the shotgun and was waving it triumphantly overhead to show his buddy. Larry stood there beside Jessica, her hand in his, watching helplessly as the other one boarded the boat and the two of them sailed away.

  Twenty-four

  REBECCA WAS LYING IN her bunk, thinking of her options as the morning turned to afternoon while Russell continued his routine of running the engine for a while, and then shutting it off to sail until it cooled again. She had to get rid of him and somehow take the Sarah J. back to her mom and the others before they left Green Cay. She knew that as soon as they could get the catamaran back in the water, they would set out to look for her, but she feared they would look in the wrong places. She had to get there before they left or they might never find her. She didn’t know how she would sail the boat and find her way all by herself, but that was a problem she could figure out later. The first thing she had to do was get Russell off the boat, but she wasn’t sure how she would do it.

  She’d come close when she made the sudden turn and caused him to slip and fall, but the stupid lifelines had kept him from going overboard, and he wasn’t going to be that careless again. He didn’t know for sure that she’d done it on purpose, but realizing how easy it was to fall overboard had prompted him to put on the PFD harness.

  Without making it obvious, Rebecca had looked for the rifle that she knew he had as soon as he let her out of the cabin. When she saw the padlock in place on one of the cockpit locker lids, she knew he’d probably put it in there, and her suspicion was confirmed when she’d checked the hook where her mom kept the key and found it missing. Russell wasn’t completely stupid, and if she couldn’t get her hands on a gun it was going to be hard to do what she needed to do, especially now that he was clipped into that harness whenever he went forward. It would be so much easier if he simply went over the side without her having to do anything, but now she doubted that was going to happen because it wasn’t even stormy weather. She was going to have to make it happen, whenever the time was right, but she had to do it in a way that was one hundred percent certain, because she knew there would be no second chance if she failed.

  At least he wasn’t afraid to let her come up on deck. That was a start, and she knew the more she gained his trust, the better her chances would become. He was likewise trying to gain her trust, which was why he was giving her a little more freedom. Listening to him talk, she could tell that he actually thought he was doing her a favor by bringing her out here. He thought her mom and Captain Larry and all the others were idiots when they said they didn’t believe the blackout was all planned and deliberate. Like her mom had said after the first night he ate dinner with them, he was a know-it-all who thought he had the answers to everything. And the worst thing about him was that he wouldn’t shut up. All he wanted to do was talk and talk and talk.

  Maybe that’s why he took her with him when he took the boat, just so he would have someone to listen to him while he ran his mouth. But Rebecca was also old enough and smart enough to know there might be a lot more to it than that. So far he hadn’t tried anything or even suggested anything inappropriate, but she had no doubt that if she were on the boat alone with him for long enough, that could change. She was not going to wait long enough to be in the position to find out. Rebecca had never thought about killing another person before, even though she’d wanted to end her own life a few times even before that night she’d nearly done it. But now she didn’t want to die and she thought she could kill if that were the only way for her to live, or the only way to keep this guy from doing what she was afraid he would try. If she could get him off the boat without killing him, that would be best, but if not….

  Her thoughts were interrupted when he began yelling her name with great excitement in his voice. It was getting close to sunset, and somehow he was still awake and full of energy, not the least bit sleepy after all this time at the helm. And now he was practically jumping up and down out there as he had apparently found the way to the islands he was aiming for:

  “Rebecca! Come see! Land! Look! We made it to land! Come check it out!”

  She stuck her head out of the forward hatch, which she could open again now that he’d removed the rope that was holding it down. Ahead in the distance she saw a thin sliver of land that looked much like the little island they had left behind, only smaller. Most of the shoreline appeared white, and she knew that was sand reflecting in the sunlight. There were some larger rocks in the middle and stacked up near one end, but she saw no trees at all, and hardly any vegetation. There was nothing else there, no sign of human activity, no boats in sight—nothing.

  “We made it!” Russell shouted again. “We’ve reached the Jumentos!”

  Rebecca wondered how he could be so sure of where they are. She only saw one island, not a chain of them, like Larry described. But still, her curiosity led her to go back up to the cockpit and get a better look. When she got there, R
ussell was staring off to the south of the island through her grandfather’s binoculars.

  “There!” he said, handing the binoculars to her. “Look right down there, and you can see the next island. There will be more. It’s a whole string of them and they lead the way south, like stepping stones to Cuba!”

  With the binoculars, she could see the island he was pointing to. It looked a bit bigger than the one they were near, but with the sun so low it was mostly in silhouette and she couldn’t make out any details.

  “How do you even know which islands these are? Larry said there are hundreds of little islands in the Bahamas.”

  “There are, but I know these are the Jumentos because they’re right where I expected to find them from plotting our course on the charts. What we need to do is sail to the other side of that closest one, and then we can find a place to anchor and get some sleep. Tomorrow, we can explore the chain and find the best place to hang out for a while.”

  Rebecca was glad they had found land, whether these islands were really the Jumentos or not. The longer they kept sailing, the harder it was going to be for her to find her way back to Green Cay. Russell may have been wired while they were moving, but she knew he had to be tired and that once they stopped, he would probably sleep for a long time. She didn’t know if she would have her chance then or not, but the more she thought about it, she figured she would not. He wouldn’t go to sleep without tying her up or at least locking her up in her cabin again. He might be stupid, but he couldn’t be that stupid. That got her thinking that maybe she shouldn’t wait. He was tired now but she had gotten some rest and even napped several times during the long day while she was in her bunk. As they neared the island, the wheels were turning in her mind. It might not happen, but if the right moment came along, this could be her chance because Russell was distracted by the sight of the land and focused on getting through the reefs and shoals to the other side before it got dark.

  He had the chart book spread out on the coach roof in front of the cockpit and asked her to take the helm while he studied it and stared at the shoreline of the little island.

  “I’m pretty certain we’re here,” he said, holding up the chart and pointing. “There’s plenty of water on the north side of this cay as long as we stay about a quarter mile off it. I’m going to stand up by the mast where I can see and I’ll tell you if you need to make a course correction.”

  Rebecca was willing to do everything she could to help him avoid hitting any obstacles. It would do her no good if they ran the Sarah J. aground, so it was in her best interest to help Russell navigate while they were in dangerous waters with the sun setting soon. He pointed and yelled a half dozen times as he directed her to the areas of bluer-colored water that indicated sufficient depths. He had already retracted the centerboard, so as long as they had a bit more than four and a half feet of water they were good. But as they passed the north end of the island, Rebecca could see vast areas of green water with a white sand bottom, most of it far too shallow even for the Casey Nicole, never mind the Sarah J.

  Once they made through the cut to the southeast side of the cay, Russell came back to the cockpit and took the helm, turning the boat to the southwest to aim for the larger cay they’d seen in the distance that was now visible without the binoculars. The engine had been running again to get them through the pass, but now Russell wanted to shut it down and sail.

  “Keep us pointed directly at that other island,” he said, giving her back the wheel. “I’m going to kill the engine and get the sails back up. We can sail down there and find a place to anchor. There’s no shelter here at all if the wind picks up.”

  She was steering almost into the setting sun now, the light making it hard to see anything. Russell had the main and jib set and had returned to the cockpit, where he stood on the edge of the deck looking at the first little island sliding by a quarter of a mile to the north. The wind was still out of the southeast, so the boat was on the port tack and heeled over in the direction of the island, putting Russell on the low side of the boat, his back to her as she steered. Rebecca didn’t know if it was the best chance she would get or not, but there might not be another before he forced her back to her cabin and locked her up. She didn’t ever want that to happen again, even if he probably would let her out again in the morning unharmed. There was a metal winch handle in it’s holder within easy reach, and Russell was too busy studying the island to notice when she leaned over to grab it with one hand. He had one hand on the bimini frame beside him, but his grip was relaxed and where he stood, the lifelines were touching his legs at about mid-thigh level. If she did this right, they wouldn’t stop him from going overboard.

  Rebecca switched the winch handle to her stronger right hand and stepped up onto the cockpit seat, directly behind Russell. She swung the makeshift club with all her might, hitting him in the back of the head before he was aware she’d left the helm. The result was not what she’d expected. Instead of going right over the side into the water, Russell buckled a bit at the knees and reached up with his free hand to feel his head. As he did so, he turned to face her and she knew she had to act fast. She brought the winch handle back the other way in a backhand sweep that caught him in the side of the head this time, and before he could react she shoved him hard in the chest, sending him backwards over the lifelines.

  The sails began flogging as the boat headed up into he wind with its helm unattended. Rebecca looked over the side first to make sure Russell wasn’t hanging on, then grabbed the wheel and fought to bring the boat back under control. She looked over her shoulder as it slowly moved away, and saw Russell’s head bobbing in the wake. The CO2 inflator had activated upon immersion, just like it was supposed to, and the PFD was keeping his head clear of the water as he drifted. But he still appeared to be unconscious or maybe even dead. If not for the PFD, she knew he likely would drown if he wasn’t dead, but with it, the wind and waves might eventually carry him to the shore of the little island.

  Rebecca kept glancing back over her shoulder as she steered on the same course Russell had set to the other, larger island. She was shaking with adrenaline as she realized what she’d done. She was free of the man who had taken her captive, and she had her mom’s boat back! But it was going to be dark soon and she knew she had to stop somewhere for the night before she turned to sail back to Green Cay. She could not imagine navigating all night out here by herself. She needed more sleep first and she needed daylight to see where she was going. The other island Russell had wanted to go to seemed like a reasonable option. If there was indeed a place to anchor, she would do so, and in the morning she could start back to the northeast and try to find Green Cay.

  Twenty-five

  “THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS!” Tara said, as she paced the deck with yet another cup of coffee, her eyes scanning the horizon to the north for any sign of Larry and Jessica.

  “It’s still three hours until sunset,” Artie said. “I’ll bet they’ll show up any minute now. It probably took longer than Larry expected to check the whole island.”

  “He would have been back to get us by now if the boat was there. He hasn’t found it. That’s why he’s still out there. He’s looking in the wrong place and all this time that man is heading somewhere else, getting farther and farther away with my child! I knew I shouldn’t have listened to him! Every time I have it’s been a mistake!”

  “I understand how you’re feeling, Tara. I really do. Believe me. When all this first happened all I could think about was finding Casey. I know she’s older than Rebecca, but she’s my only child too. And I never would have found her without Larry’s help. You’ve got to have faith in him. He knows what he’s doing.”

  “I don’t have to have faith in anything!” Tara said. “After all this, how could you expect me to? All I can say is they better get back soon. I’m not sitting here waiting and waiting while Rebecca is being taken God knows where by that lunatic!”

  Artie hoped it didn’t come to an argumen
t with Tara over when they would leave, because he wasn’t planning on going anywhere without Jessica and his brother. He didn’t expect it to go that far though because he had plenty of faith in Larry whether Tara did or not. Larry would be back with Jessica soon. He knew it. And a shout from Casey confirmed it.

  “There they are!”

  “Well, we will know soon enough what they found then,” he said to Tara, as they all turned to see the tiny sail in the distance, slowly coming into focus as it approached.

  “What are they doing now?” Grant asked, as the boat suddenly veered more to the west, angling away from the coast of the island instead of coming directly at them.

  “Maybe just adjusting their course to take advantage of the wind?” Casey speculated.

  Artie watched the dinghy with the others as it continued on this new course. It was still too far away to see Larry and Jessica clearly, but he waved at them anyway. For some reason they continued on the new course, as if they intended to give the catamaran a wide berth rather than sail directly to it. As the dinghy continued on, it passed within a quarter mile of the Casey Nicole, and when the two figures seated in it were no longer in the shadow of the sail, they could see that they were not Larry and Jessica.

  “Someone has taken the dinghy!” Casey said.

  Artie wished he had the binoculars Larry had taken with him, but even without them, he could see well enough to tell that the two occupants of the dinghy were men—both of them black men and likely Bahamian islanders. But why? Why were these two strangers sailing the dinghy instead of Larry and Jessica? Artie felt knots of fear in his stomach as he realized why the dinghy had veered away. Obviously, the two men who had taken it were not expecting to see the catamaran anchored there, and had changed course to avoid passing near it. Artie knew Larry would never give up that dinghy without a fight. If these men had managed to take it, what had they done to Larry and Jessica and where were they? There was only one way to find out.