by Jim Craig
Charlie laughed at me then. “Oh, that sweet Greta. Ain’t she something?" More laughter. “You’re screwed, dude. They're after you now, not us!”
"Not so fast, man. I didn't do anything to those troopers. Remember?" I glared at him in defiance.
"Yeah? What about Sponge Bob? Did they find the gun?" he asked.
I didn't answer but my eyes dropped. His face lit up and he howled. "Ha. Bingo. You are totally screwed, blued and tatooed."
“So then why did you do all this?” I snapped and waved my arm out at the pool of gasoline behind us.
That wiped the smile off his lips. His face went dark and he kicked at the deck.
“Damn it!” He stomped a few paces away, then stopped and studied the gun in his hands. "We shoulda waited."
"Waited for what?" I was stalling for time, anything to keep him talking, so I could think.
He whirled back toward me. “When they made that announcement telling me to go to the bridge, I thought I was finished. So I grabbed that security chick and came down here. I'd been planning to hijack the ferry all along. After you couldn't fly us out, it was our only way. If I’d just waited...” He kicked at the car beside us leaving a dent in the driver side door.
I watched Charlie and felt my head getting light. He was right. If they’d waited, I’d be in custody and on my way to Seward as the only suspect in a double cop murder. And Charlie and Greta could have hidden in that cabin all the way to Kodiak. And then disappeared.
I looked around in a nervous search. I pictured the door bursting open any moment and men with guns charging in and blasting away. My mind was racing to figure out what to do. Somehow I had to reason with him. He was acting like an animal backed into a corner, and as much as he tried to delude himself, he was no fool. We both knew it was only a matter of time.
“What are you going to do now, Charlie? The cops are coming, you know? The Coast Guard too probably. Maybe even the whole damned Navy. They’ll be there any minute now.”
“They don’t dare try to stop us. I’ll blow this place sky high.” He grinned at me then. I didn’t like the look on his face.
"So, then where are we going?"
"Hawaii," he said grinning at my expression. "She made the captain turn the ship for Hawaii,” he laughed.
“You hijacked the Alaska State ferry? To Hawaii? What the hell, Charlie? That's over two thousand miles. This ferry can’t make it that far. Over all that open ocean? With all these people on board?”
He chuckled shaking his head. “Yeah, I know, I know. So geography ain’t Greta’s best subject. What can I tell ya?”
“What about Tambourine?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine what the kid was thinking in the middle of this nightmare.
Charlie shrugged. “He’s with Greta.” He shook his head but didn’t say anything else.
There was a Subaru nearby that had two yellow kayaks strapped to its roof. He was staring at them, studying them and trying to think.
I interrupted. “Charlie, what’s to keep the cops from sneaking in here. You know they’re going to try.”
He tore his gaze away from the kayaks and looked at me. “There’s only four doors into this garage,” he said. “I’ve got them all tied off and barricaded except the one back there. We need to take care of that right now."
He pulled his jacket up over his nose and motioned for me to do the same. Then he took me by the collar again and marched me toward the door I’d come in. The same one Rainey had left through. The gas fumes instantly attacked our eyes and we were both squinting and wiping tears as we made our way in a blurry rush.
Still holding the handgun, he approached the door carefully and dug in a pocket for a ring of keys. I noticed he was keeping me in a position where he could fire either at me or the door. He kept me at arm’s length in case I got brave. Or stupid, depending on your point of view.
When he had it locked he directed me to stack some nearby gas cans in front of the door. When he was satisfied he pushed me back to the fresh air bubble by the Subaru. We were both coughing and gasping for air. The back of my throat was on fire.
“Greta.” Charlie rasped into the microphone and then dropped it back on his chest to wait for her answer.
It didn’t take long. “What?” She sounded tense. Her voice echoed through the dim garage.
“Where are we now? There’s no windows down here.”
“We’re in a fog bank, Charlie, straight south of Seward.”
“What can you see?”
“Nothing, Charlie. It’s just as thick as it was back on Taroka. And low too. I can’t see anything outside.”
“Okay, good. Shut her down. And the bilge pumps too. Like we talked about.”
Two minutes later I almost fell over when I felt the rumble and vibration drop off below us again. Instead of plowing steadily through the ocean the ferry gradually slowed. The engines were still running but at idle. Then they shut down too. The deck shuddered and everything got quiet.
“See?” he gloated. “I can make ‘em do anything I want.”
I waited for a minute, but then I had to ask. “Charlie, what’s the plan? How are we going to get out of here?”
He didn’t answer. I glanced sideways and saw his eyes working back and forth. Like he was searching for an idea. Then his eyes stopped and his head cocked toward me.
“We got demands,” he said brightly.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT