Michael was more surefooted than Chris, and when he stepped onto the slippery plank after being warned by her of its condition, there were no problems.
“There’s another ladder down the dock, near where we came in,” Gene whispered. “We can get to it on a line of planks that connects with this one, farther back.”
“We should call for help before we do anything else,” Chris said. “Michael, I hope you’ve still got the phone.”
“Help is already on the way,” Michael said. “Gene called before we had to run for it.” Hearing no affirmation from the old man, Michael said, “You did make the call . . .”
“The phone fell in the bay before I could do it. I’m sorry . . .”
His admission was so stunning, neither Chris nor Michael could speak.
“All right, I know, I’m clumsy and stupid,” Gene said. “But we’ll be okay. We’ll get to the other ladder, and when the time is right, we’ll climb up and get out of here.”
Michael thought about throwing a little criticism at Gene, too, but remembering that he’d set off the alarm by knocking that goon in the bay, he said nothing. Nor did Chris, the primary culprit in their troubles, feel that she had any right to complain.
“The planks are all slippery,” Gene said. “So be careful. Let’s move.”
The timbers in the decking overhead were several inches apart. This allowed a tiny amount of light from above to filter through. It wasn’t enough for Chris and Michael to actually see Gene in front of them, but only to sense him. Without even listening hard, they could still hear Danner and his men running around the dock, searching for the intruders.
The plank on which they were standing was sixteen inches vertically, but presented them with an edge only three and a half inches wide, room for a relatively easy stroll, except that it was treacherously slimy, and they couldn’t even see it. Holding on to the decking overhead and moving as carefully as possible, Chris and Michael followed Gene deeper into the underdock.
“Here’s where we turn left,” Gene said. “It’s another plank, just like the one we’re on.”
They all made the turn without mishap and began to move slowly in the new direction. From far off, they heard a shout that sounded like Danner’s voice. “Here’s a ladder. They could be under the dock. Bring that flashlight.”
More running footsteps.
“They’re coming down here,” Chris said. “Gene, what should we do?”
“We have to get in the water—to the land side of this plank we’re on.”
“Let’s hear idea number two,” Chris said.
“There’s no alternative,” Gene said. “The tide is low enough that when we’re in the water, the plank will hide us. And we have to go now.”
There was a slight splash as Gene entered the water.
Down where the shouting had come from, Paul Danner descended the ladder with his flashlight.
Out of time for discussion, Chris let go of her hold on the overhead decking and carefully squatted until she had one knee on the plank under her. She bent down, got a two-handed grip on the plank, and did an awkward dismount.
As she hit the water, the word that filled her mind was “Cold.” And it wasn’t like being cold when you were dry. This cold crept into every crevice and secret part of her body. Feeling only water under her feet, she started them in a rhythmic paddling motion.
“No hands showin’,” Gene cautioned. “Hold on to the bottom of the plank.”
On the ladder, Paul Danner swept the underdock with the beam of his flashlight. Powerful as it was, its beam didn’t carry far enough. Dissatisfied with his inspection, Danner climbed back onto the dock. “I didn’t see anybody,” he said to Enrique. “But we need to look more thoroughly. Go back to the boat and cruise along the dock with your spotlight.”
With the immediate danger passed, the trio in the water all moved their hands back to the top of the plank.
“They’re going to use the boat to check this area with a spotlight,” Michael whispered, telling the others what they’d already heard for themselves.
“Won’t matter,” Gene said. “Light can’t penetrate wood. We stay here; they’ll never see us.”
“Unless they send someone in here with a flashlight,” Chris said.
“Then they might,” Gene agreed.
Chris didn’t know about the others, but her body wasn’t getting used to the cold water, and the smell of creosote, gasoline, and rotting fish was making her queasy.
Soon they heard the boat starter being cranked. The engine sprang to life, and whoever was behind the wheel pushed the gas to it, swinging the boat into position so it could parallel the dock, Chris guessed.
The engine dropped back to a lower speed and settled into a steady throb. But instead of getting progressively louder, it grew fainter.
“Went the other way first,” Michael said. “You all right, Chris?”
It was exactly that moment when Chris realized this bay was part of the Atlantic. And oceans have sharks. Long ago, she’d loved the shore and had often swum in the sea during holidays in Destin, Florida. One day she’d taken a helicopter ride over the shore, and the pilot had pointed out the many sharks patrolling the surf, some of them less than a hundred yards from swimmers. This was the first time she’d been in the ocean since that day, and here she was, feet dangling like human sushi. The wound on her hand from last night’s attack was no longer bleeding, but she worried that sharks could smell it anyway.
“Chris, are you okay?” Michael asked again.
“I can think of a few other places I’d rather be,” she replied, not wanting to burden the others with her shark fears.
Far down the dock, the boat’s engine began to sing.
“They’ll be coming this way now,” Michael said.
“Watch your hands,” Gene warned.
Very reluctantly, Chris put her hands back in the water.
The engine dropped to search speed, and the boat came in their direction. About fifty yards away, a bright circle of light invaded the darkness and methodically explored.
As the boat grew inexorably closer, Chris felt even more nauseated.
The spotlight traveled along the seawall behind them, stopped a few feet short of their position, and crawled downward, across the plank hiding them. Chris’s stomach gave a final warning.
No . . . she couldn’t . . . not now. Even with the boat engine to mask the sound, she might be heard.
She issued her stomach orders to calm down. And it seemed to be helping, when suddenly, the spotlight returned, raked the wall behind them, then dropped and traveled along their protective plank.
For the first time, Chris wondered if the light would penetrate the water and reveal them below the plank. As if answering that question, three shots echoed through the underdock. One tore through the plank, shredding it. A second hit the seawall, ricocheted, and zipped into the water. There was a squeal as the third hit its intended target, a big wharf rat that either jumped or was blown off the plank into the water near Chris’s right shoulder, where it squealed and struggled and shed blood into the water.
The gunfire brought hurried footsteps into the machine maze above.
“Do you see them?” Danner asked from the edge of the dock.
“Nah, it was just a rat,” Enrique said. “And there’s nothin’ I hate worse.”
“Forget the rats and stay focused,” Danner barked.
The light and the boat slowly moved on. When it seemed safe to make a little noise, Chris began creating waves with her hands to push the dying rat toward the seawall. Addition of the rat to the stew should have made her even sicker. But the fear she’d felt when the shooting began, and her worry now about any sharks in the area being drawn to the rat’s blood, took over her queasy stomach circuitry, so at least
on that score, she felt better.
“I was sure he’d seen us,” Michael said.
“I told you, light can’t penetrate wood,” Gene said.
“It was those slugs I was worried about.”
“Are we in the clear now, do you think?” Chris asked.
“I don’t believe they’ll look in here again,” Michael said.
“We better stay in the water, though,” Gene warned.
“Let’s move down and get away from that rat,” Chris said.
They worked their way along the plank for about thirty feet and stopped. They heard the boat continue along the dock at low speed for another few minutes. Then its engine began to roar. It came back at high speed, passed by, and returned to the ladder where it had originally tied up.
“There’s nobody down here,” they heard Enrique shout to Danner.
“Damn it,” Danner said. “I don’t know where they could be. But I’m not going to stay here all night. We can’t meet here anymore. In fact, everything is now on hold. I’ll let you know what the new plans are in a few days. If you don’t hear from me, just sit tight.”
A few seconds of silence elapsed, then the boat engine revved up a notch. It maintained that speed for a few more seconds before its pilot opened the throttle. As the roar of the boat slowly faded, and the waves from its wake slapped against the plank that had kept Enrique from seeing more than a rat, the engines of the car and the truck on the dock joined the mix. These sounds, too, quickly faded.
Under the dock, no one spoke right away, but all listened hard, afraid to believe that Danner and his men were truly gone. But they heard only the sound of water lapping against wood and cement. Seconds slid by, and it remained quiet.
“Are they really gone?” Chris said. “Or is it a trap?”
“I’ll check,” Gene said. “If it is a trick and I’m caught, I’ll just pretend to be drunk. They’re more likely to believe I’m here alone than if they catch either of you.”
“Be careful,” Chris said.
“I’ll go, too,” Michael said.
“Weren’t you listenin’?” Gene said. “Dr. Collins will be safer if it’s just me. You stay with her.”
Gene hoisted himself over the plank and back into the water on the other side, where he set out in a breaststroke for the ladder. When he reached it, he climbed up and stepped onto the dock.
Still worried about sharks, Chris said, “I’m getting out of the water.” She hauled herself onto the plank and managed to get to her feet. Michael did the same.
Balanced on the thin plank, with water draining from their clothes, they quickly became even colder than they had been, but neither of them complained.
They stood there long enough that Chris began to shiver, and Michael had a thought. “I wonder if he’s left us.”
“He had a chance to do that when we were both at Danner’s car, so I don’t think—”
She was interrupted by the sound of someone on the ladder. It immediately occurred to both of them that if it wasn’t Gene, they’d be easy targets for someone with a flashlight and a gun.
“It’s okay,” Gene said. “Come on.”
Reluctant to get back in the water, Michael and Chris made their way to the ladder using Plank Avenue. Michael was in front, so he went up first and helped Chris onto the dock. As soon as she was off the ladder, Chris went to the tarp where she’d hidden Danner’s laptop.
It seemed unlikely that Danner and his men could have found it, but as her hand slid behind the tarp, that small possibility loomed large.
But the computer was still there.
With it once again in her possession, Chris’s spirits lifted. “I don’t know about you two, but I think I’ve gotten about all this experience has to offer.”
Leaving wet footprints on the dock, they headed back the way they’d come in.
When they reached the alley leading to the car and were no longer out in the open, Michael muttered, “That guy Danner is a real lowlife. Considering what we already knew about him, I guess we shouldn’t be surprised at what we just saw. He’ll obviously do anything for a buck.”
Feeling cold and miserable, they plodded up the alley. As they approached the street where they’d parked, Michael suddenly stopped walking and whispered, “Wait a minute . . . Wasn’t there a light over that loading dock when we arrived?”
“I don’t remember,” Chris said.
“I’m sure there was,” Gene said.
“Let’s find some cover.” Michael guided Gene and Chris into the deep shadows of the adjacent building on their left. “You two stay here.”
While the others did as he instructed, Michael crept along the side of the warehouse and took a discreet look around the corner, in the opposite direction from where they’d parked. He lingered there a moment, then came back to the others. “There’s a white truck sitting in the dark around the corner. And someone’s in it smoking.”
“The truck from the dock,” Chris said.
“And probably the same guy inside,” Michael said. “They must have seen our car and left him here to watch for us.”
“Is he alone?” Chris asked.
“I think so, but reinforcements may be on the way.”
“What are we going to do?”
“I’m going to let him catch me,” Michael said.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t worry, I can handle him. Once I get him under control, we’re not going to have much time. So when I give the word, Gene, you check the truck for his keys, that’s probably where they’ll be.”
“Why not let me bait him to the car,” Gene said. “Then you could jump him from behind.”
“I let you take the lead back there on the dock because it made sense for the situation. But this is different. I can do this alone, and unless you’re planning on leaving town, I don’t think you want to be seen with us.”
“Agreed, that could be a problem.”
“Or I could bait him,” Chris said.
“He’s not going to want to believe a woman punched him into the bay, so if he sees you, he’ll immediately think you must be with someone.”
“Maybe we should just leave the car,” Chris said.
“I’d rather ride out of here than walk. I can handle him. I promise.”
“I believe you.” Truthfully, Chris wasn’t so sure. Without a gun in the equation, she’d have had complete confidence in him, but the guy in the truck was surely armed.
“Okay, here I go.” Michael turned and nonchalantly walked down the middle of the alley and into plain view of the truck. He turned right and took no more than half a dozen steps before Chris heard the truck’s door open.
“Hey, cowboy,” a voice called out. “Hold on there.”
The truck driver came into view holding an automatic in his right hand. “How come you’re all wet?” he said.
“Freak rainstorm,” Michael replied.
“You’re the one who sucker punched me on the dock, ain’t you?” the guy said, moving closer. “Where’s the computer you stole?”
He was now standing just a few feet from Michael. Seeing no reason she couldn’t give Michael a little help, Chris shouted, “Drop the gun, creep.”
As the goon reflexively turned his head slightly in her direction, Michael stepped forward, grabbed the guy’s gun hand, and drove it upward. A shot rang out, and the two men scuffled. In seconds, the gun was on the ground, and Michael was behind the guy, his left arm around the goon’s neck, his right pinning the guy’s gun hand to his back. In another few seconds, the guy quit struggling, and Michael let him slump to the ground.
“Time to get those keys,” Michael shouted.
While Gene bolted for the truck, Michael picked up the gun and motioned for Chris. “Let’s
move.”
“I got the keys,” Gene said, hurrying toward the others.
In moments, they were in their car speeding from the scene.
“Drop the gun, creep?” Michael said, grinning from behind the wheel.
“It was all I could think to say,” Chris replied, sitting beside him, Danner’s computer safe in her lap.
“Gene, where do you want to go?” Michael asked.
“Home.”
Following Gene’s instructions, and with the heater on to warm them up, they took a route that kept them off the street where the Iliad plant was located. When they reached Gene’s alley, Michael pulled up in front of the old man’s culvert, and they all got out.
“We make a good team,” Gene said.
“Thank you for helping us when we were in trouble,” Chris said. “You could have saved yourself, but you didn’t.”
“I wasn’t expectin’ you to run out and take that computer, but I still felt responsible for you. Even if you hadn’t done that, us just bein’ on the dock was risky. I could have simply told you what goes on there instead of takin’ you. But it wears on you to be a bum, with everybody lookin’ down on you. I guess I just wanted a few minutes where I could be with folks like you sort of as an equal . . . Not that I ever could be that.”
“I understand,” Chris said. “And I also know you’re a good and brave man. And I’m proud to know you.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
“That goes for me, too,” Michael said. “Except for the kiss.” He dug in his wet pants for his wallet. “I want to give you something to help you out.”
Gene raised his hand. “You already have. Now you better get out of here before somebody sees us, and you ruin my reputation.”
“Will you be okay?” Chris said. “With those men, I mean.”
“I’m not somebody they’ll spend any time thinkin’ about. So, sure. I’ll be fine. You two have good lives, and I hope whatever you need from that computer is there. I’ll make sure it’s safe for you to leave.”
The Judas Virus Page 31