Staggered Cove Station

by Elle Brownlee

  “Loud and clear.”

  “And if you are okay, I never want gory details, but I’m glad for you, bud. You deserve something good and stable.” He grunted. “And if this Karl guy is ever not good and stable, it’ll be me disappearing to Gozo. Get me on that?”

  “Even louder.” Dan laughed. He fumbled into a pair of long underwear and slipped the top over his head. “And now I gotta go so I can make sure he doesn’t die on me before that whole ‘good and stable’ thing can happen.”

  “Don’t you fucking die either, Daniel.”

  The sharp curse made him think of Karl, and that pierced a spike of fear in his heart that he’d so far kept at bay.

  “I won’t. I’ll let you know we made it. Thanks, Ridge.”

  Ridge grunted something and ended the call. Dan tossed his phone on his bunk and finished getting dressed. He went to the locker room, grabbed his suit and gear, and made himself stop in the mess for something to eat. Karl wasn’t in there or at command or listening in on the conversation in Curtis’s office.

  “Bennett—have you seen Karl?”

  “No. Sorry. You could check with Ramirez. He just went off duty.”

  Dan doubled back to the mess. “Ramirez, what’s the twenty on Radin?”

  Ramirez twisted around on the sofa and pointed outside. “Went to check on his ATV. We got it for him yesterday and stashed it next to the hangar. He probably stuck around to talk about the weather with Yaz.”

  Saliva rushed to fill Dan’s mouth and he swallowed an unfolding ribbon of nausea. He wasn’t going to find Karl talking with Yaz.

  “Thanks, man.” Dan snagged another sports drink, got the keys to the Jeep, and ran out into the rain. He bent forward into the wind, and each step felt like it was through concrete. Dan knew why Karl parked so far from the station—there was a little rise there that acted like a starting ramp. He also knew the Jeep was fussy and would only turn over with a just-so flick of the wrist.

  Dan bottled his growing frustration and ran all the way to the hangar.

  “Yaz?” he yelled as he pushed inside.

  Rain came in around him, and he stopped on the mat that someone had pushed under the door to keep the water from flowing in from the saturated yard.

  Yaz looked up from a bench filled with the disassembled parts of the helicopter winch.

  “A little help?” Dan licked his lips. “It’s Karl.”

  Yaz said something to the others and trotted over. “What can I do you for?”

  “Start his stupid car.”

  As an answer, Yaz got into his coat, shoved a hat on his head, and ran outside. Dan followed hot on his heels.

  Yaz panted as they got in the cab. “I assume you have the key?”

  Dan pointed at the ignition.

  “Right.” Yaz went through the sequence, and the Jeep came to life. He popped the clutch and let it roll to the road that led into the parking lot.

  “Can you just keep driving?” Dan had the feeling he wouldn’t be coming back this way and that he’d need someone to report on what happened.

  Yaz gripped the wheel and narrowed his eyes at Dan. Then he made a musing noise and put the car in gear. “Tell me where.”

  “Northy docks. The upper road is fine. I’ll show you where to stop.”

  If Yaz thought his request was strange, he didn’t show it. They rode in silence, Dan preoccupied with hatching some kind of plan and Yaz fighting the storm. Eider was deserted—even the everything store looked dark. Swollen runoff crossed the road at intervals, and deep puddles were everywhere.

  “Here’s good,” Dan said when they neared Axe’s boat. As the Jeep rolled to a stop he jumped out and started to strip.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going out there.” Dan shook loose from his pants, stepped into his suit, zipped it, and wadded his clothes in the foot well of the Jeep.

  “Are you out of your mind?” Yaz turned and leaned an elbow on the steering wheel.

  “No. I just have no choice.” Dan clipped rescue gear to his middle and started to shut the door.

  Yaz reached out and slapped it back open. “You could die out there. Look at that water. And you have no backup, and it’s dark, and in this weather, you don’t know if the station is already out on another rescue.”

  Dan looked. The lights from what had to be Axe’s boat seesawed in the distance—almost the same distance that he’d marked off and swum from the station. It just might beat him, but he had to try.

  “See that boat?” He pointed. “Karl is on it. Don’t ask me how I know, because I don’t have time to explain, but he is, and I’m going, and you can’t stop me. I have to.” Dan slammed the door and strode to the stairs.

  “Worth—Worth!” Yaz caught up with him and grabbed his arm. “Wait a freaking minute, and let me radio for help.”

  “Radio them the second you’re back in the Jeep. And contact the local authorities to put out an APB on one Grady Sikes.” Dan was out of patience to say anything more. All he had left was the certainty that he had to act quickly or it would be too late. “Thanks, Yaz. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  Dan stood in the teeth of the storm and accepted its wrath. He let it in—invited it, even—instead of daring it to best him. Then he ran down the stairs, gained speed on the length of the empty dock, and dove into the churning water.

  KARL lurched and banged his shoulder against the cabin as a huge wave smacked the boat broadside. The water was unrelenting and another, then a third, almost keeled them over.

  He pried himself off the deck and staggered toward the wheel.

  “I said don’t move.”

  “A few more hits like that, and it won’t matter if I fucking riverdance.” Karl glared at Axe. “Hold that damn thing on me all you like. I’m going to steer this boat.”

  Axe sidestepped to keep Karl in sight as he advanced to take the wheel.

  Karl had had a handful of minutes to search the boat. He was surprised when he found about half the meth back on board. And then Axe showed up, haggard and wild-eyed. Karl’s hunch was right.

  They scuffled—more dirty tactics and knee blows than precise hits, and Karl had the upper hand until that gun appeared. He froze at the sight of it and showed his hands. So Axe sucker-punched him and launched the boat.

  Now Karl turned them into the waves, and the boat rode the heaves. The wheel shuddered and fought him, wanting to follow the push of the water that dragged the rudder, but Karl braced and held firm. The boat had no business out in heavy weather, and he could tell Axe knew it. They tipped way up and then fell in the trough of another oncoming wave, and it broke over the bow in a drowning rush. It wasn’t pleasant, but it might keep the ocean from ripping her apart before he could get to Axe.

  “We’re going to get far enough out that you won’t wash back up on the rocks, and I’m going to shoot you and dump your carcass.” Axe jerked the gun for emphasis, but it was the only thing he managed to hold steady.

  He looked waxen under the wet sheen of rain and water. Karl couldn’t decide if it was from living as a dead man for too long or if he was seasick.

  “You haven’t killed anyone else in all this. Why start with me?”

  Axe might not be interested in explaining everything, but Karl had to buy some time. He decided the third part of his plan was to keep Axe busy while the station came for the radio beacon signal he activated when Axe boarded.

  “Just shut up, Radin. You’re not in command here, and I don’t owe your perfect regs and square corners anything.”

  “How about Dan? Don’t you think you owe him something?”

  Axe’s aim momentarily wavered.

  “He’s here, you know. You have to know. You would have seen him when you checked on your handiwork with the winch or on our approach to your nice little trap on the cliffs.” Karl’s anger had subsided when the need to survive and keep his wits took over, but it roared back with a vengeance. “He came here to find out what happened to you. He coul
dn’t stand thinking you died doing what you love most, what he said you’ve always been the best at.”

  “Shut up.”

  “He gave up a spot at somewhere better—and that’d be anywhere to you, seeing as you always hated it here. For you. He got himself assigned to this backwoods spit of nothing just to find out what happened to his big brother.”

  “Shut. Up.”

  “I’m trying to understand, here, Axe. I’m trying to get why you were apparently going to let him sacrifice so much and reward that kind of brotherly devotion by losing him at sea. Or blowing him to smithereens.”

  Axe showed his teeth. “I didn’t know until it was too late—too late for everything. It wasn’t supposed to go that far. All I needed was a break, one lucky break, but no. So I had to create my own.”

  “Seems to me you got a lot of those.”

  “You don’t know anything, Radin. How would you? Born to this godforsaken Alaska and Curtis’s favorite.” He spit each word as though it were poison.

  “No one held a gun to your head to stay put.”

  Axe sneered. “I asked for a transfer as soon as I got here. I waited and waited, and all I got for bothering was another stint buried here.”

  Karl wanted to ask what the gambling was for. An escape? To get in trouble and get busted down? But he knew he wouldn’t get answers.

  “You almost killed your brother, Axe. You almost killed Dan. Twice.”

  “I tried to warn him off, I tried to readjust your attitudes, and finally I just wanted a distraction to thread the needle and get away. But we’re done talking. Just in case you were thinking I was going to go all monologuing bad guy on you.”

  “Funny you say that. I knew you couldn’t explain because you’re a cowardly, selfish fuckstick who doesn’t have good reasons—not even the piss-warm lies you told yourself to make it seem okay.” Karl searched the horizon for what should be lurking if his signal had been received. Axe wouldn’t see it. He wasn’t born in godforsaken Alaska, so he wouldn’t know. “I’ll be honest. I’m disappointed.”

  If he got Axe mad enough, he could get at the gun. It was the only advantage Axe had.

  “I gave you too much credit, but you allowed yourself to spiral down into all this, and you were willing to sacrifice your own brother. And here you are, just a basic son of a bitch.”

  Axe snarled and then screamed like a crazed animal. He took aim, and something mean and base lit his eyes as he raised his hand and barreled at Karl.

  Karl turned the wheel to sideswipe a line of waves. The wheel caught and knocked his chin, and he tasted blood. Then it slipped and spun out of his grip, and the boat pitched sideways as his feet flew out from under him.

  DAN kicked to swim above a coming wave and searched for the boat. No one seemed to be at the helm, and it was difficult to run down because the boat was being tossed about. At least they were far enough from the coast that the waves were endless and rolling and not a choppy, breaking surf. He’d used up a lot of energy pulling away from the shore, but once he was in open water, he dug in and swam rather than struggled.

  He scanned the horizon just above the water, rode the swells, and finally caught a pattern of lights.

  The boat seemed to steady into a course, and Dan was making headway. He watched the boat another moment to get a bearing, sucked in air until his lungs burned, and duck-dived to swim just below the whitening crests of the next line of waves.

  He surfaced, checked, dove again. The minutes and effort he spent in pursuit stretched and distorted and became meaningless. His mind was blank, and his body churned on automatic as he crawled with his arms, kicked with his legs, and counted a rhythm with his steady pulse and the hard, floaty rise of lifting on waves to take breaths. He pushed past muscle fatigue into a warm, serene place of endless movement and respiration. His body was a machine. Karl was on that boat, and Dan would make it.

  Dan kicked up and was near enough to see the boat’s bulk despite the rain and dark. He shortened his stroke to gain maneuverability over speed. The only things he had to worry about were the engine screws—no one would spot him in the water—and he made for starboard thinking he could climb up and use the boxy cabin as a screen.

  As he closed in, they entered an undercurrent, and he had to abandon finesse. The current pulled at him, twisted his legs, and shoved him to the side. Throttling anger and frustration welled up, and he let it up, up and up to a choking point, and used that surge to power through the final distance, past the grasping current and his clawing exhaustion.

  Something intensely bright streaked briefly through the air above him. Almost there—almost there to Karl.

  Dan let himself bob along in the waves and swiped the water from his eyes. Two figures, caught in a tight knot of violence, moved on the boat. The bright streak cut the darkness again at a different angle—a gunshot—and the figures tumbled over the railing on the other side.

  Primal agony screamed from somewhere deep within Dan. He made it to the boat, only to watch Karl fall farther away, and helpless frustration punched through his gut. He was so close—and so close to the end of his strength. What if they’d used up all their luck in the cave-in? What if he couldn’t make it? What if he had to survive and live without Karl for the rest of his life?

  Dan picked up Karl’s yell, and the ice closing around him shattered. Determination and raw need plunged him back into the waves. His entire being was hot with fatigue, but he drew on reserves he didn’t know he had and pushed past the barrier of nerveless exhaustion to break into a hard and fast crawl stroke. He had to swim wide of the careening boat and go far past it so he could swim back in from the other side.

  As he neared he sliced the water at surface level so he didn’t create any splash. Then he dropped into a low, tight bob and maneuvered, using his hands as powerful paddles and his legs as rudders. Karl’s back was to him as he grappled with Axe, who seemed to have the upper hand. Dan’s heart constricted when he saw his brother, and he almost gave himself away with an angry yell of disbelief.

  Axe was obviously a better swimmer than Karl. Dan had to stop him and help Karl—maybe defend Karl—but at least the gun was no longer a factor.

  Dan dove underwater and swam toward them. He barreled into Axe’s midsection, kicked with everything he had, and he knew it was working when Axe flailed and then grabbed his shoulders. Dan curled an arm, hooked Axe’s collar, and used his greater weight to roll them in a sort of somersault, end over end. When they surfaced again, he shoved Axe away.

  He spread his arms and hands and tried to tread water as best he could as he searched for Axe past the ripple of bubbles they’d created in the water. Karl called, but Dan ignored him. He only had energy to deal with Axe, and he hoped Karl could keep afloat until he had.

  Splashing in his periphery alerted him that Axe was coming up behind him and to his left. He kicked a turn in time for a high spray of water to slap over him. Dan let it—he’d played that game with Axe so many times growing up that he knew what Axe would do next—and then he tucked himself in flat and sank.

  Axe’s kicks were discernable from the wave motion, and Dan swam to evade Axe’s search for him. He opened his eyes—ignored the burn and sting—and got a bead on Axe. Dan balled up and then built speed with several large scissor kicks. He surged and pushed Axe up and away as he surfaced.

  He spun and got eyes on Karl, who was treading water and still there, still okay. Something dark and oily contrasted on Karl’s forehead and cheek, and it clicked in Dan’s mind—blood. Dan’s throat caught, and he couldn’t breathe for a moment. But he didn’t have time to indulge in worry. He righted and watched Axe splutter. Then he took hold of Axe’s shoulders.

  Axe lashed out and brought both fists down onto his forearms. Dan tightened his grip as Axe raised his arms again.

  “It’s me. It’s Dan. Stop this!” Water flooded his mouth. He spit and yelled Axe’s name again.

  Axe stilled and then reared back. He blinked, and his ey
es blew wide before they focused. “Dan?” Countless fleeting emotions crossed his expression, ending with remorse and then hardening anger. He shoved Dan away. “You shouldn’t have come all the way up here. You shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

  “Of course I got involved. You’re my brother. What else was I supposed to do?”

  “Stay away and not fuck everything up for me.”

  Dan recoiled. He panted, stared into Axe’s alien expression of vicious rage.

  “Help me—”

  Axe’s mean laughter cut his question off, but Dan just asked again.

  “Help me get Karl into the boat. If you do nothing else, do that. I can’t get him in on my own. And then you can do whatever you want—swim away, take that damn boat somewhere and disappear, I don’t care. Just help me with him. Please.”

  Axe swam close and stared at Dan, but his eyes darted everywhere. Dan didn’t hide his fear or the need for Karl that raged in him more powerfully than the storm that threatened to take them all under.

  “Like that, is it?” Axe glanced over to Karl. “He’s hurt. Go get him.”

  Dan wasn’t sure what Axe intended, but he couldn’t divide himself, and he didn’t care if Axe got away. He had to get to Karl. The current and swells wanted to push him the wrong way, but he fought against it and swam under the break for as long as he could. He slotted behind Karl, floated Karl out from him, and got his arm in a secure hold under Karl’s armpit.

  “I’m here.” He kissed Karl’s forehead and tried to get Karl to meet his eyes. “I got you.”

  Karl nodded. “I’m gonna gut you for doing this, but shit, am I glad to see you.”

  Dan couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Where’s Axe? Did you find him? Does he need help?”

  That Karl would even ask devastated Dan, turned him inside out, made him fall the last of the way completely in love with Karl. He gasped past something too profound to deal with right then and swam them toward the boat.

  “I found him, but we gotta get you on board. We’ll go from there.”

  Karl elbowed him and turned in the water to swim alongside. When Dan started to protest he grunted. “Save your strength for getting my damn bones over the rail.”