Hell to Pay

by Dick Wybrow

  "So, crazy man, how did you survive that crossing? Did you make it to New Orleans?"

  I nodded. "Yeah, if you can believe it."

  "I can't believe it!" Jekyll said. "That thing was crazy, loco! I thought for sure you would get blown up."

  About a year earlier, the twins had helped me by building a boat out of stuff that shouldn't be turned into a boat. Still, I'd used it to cross the Gulf of Mexico. For the next few minutes, I told them of how that played out, and they were rapt, silent as I did. As I spoke, despite how big they both were, they looked like little kids, just listening to a story.

  When I finished, the two of them laughed and laughed for about a minute. Halfway through, we couldn't help it. Both Anza and I joined in.

  "So, you are back," Hyde finally said. "And, again, you need something."

  "Yes. We need a boat."

  "Chingara," Jekyll said. "We already gave you one of our boats!"

  "Didn't even charge you for it," Hyde added.

  Anza dusted some sand off of her arm. "We have a financier, so we can pay for this one."

  The twins regarded her, then one whispered to the other. They both smiled.

  "The thing is, beautiful lady," Jekyll said. "We are not exactly a boat shop, no? We are more in the transport business. Dream weavers."

  "Oh, I like that," Hyde said. "Yes, we are dream weavers."

  "And you take people's life savings for their dreams?" Anza asked.

  They took her swipe in stride. "Dreams aren't cheap, and we are the ones taking the risk here."

  "Yeah," the other said. "We've got border cops on both sides pointing guns at us. The seas can be rough. Probably sharks out there too."

  I looked at Anza then back at the boys. "What's with the sub?"

  Hyde beamed. "We are innovators, right? Always have to stay one step ahead of the competition."

  "There's a lot of competition out here?"

  "Oh, hell yeah," Hyde said. "There's the Widow Riley down the beach about two miles. She's pretty big-time. Fronts it with a small hot sauce-making business, but her real dollars come from tourists."

  "Tourists?" I gave them a wry smile.

  "Yeah," Jekyll said. "This is what we call our clients. And Spice Lady has big money, so she's got this pricey go-fast boat that can sometimes outrun the coast guard. So, we needed an edge."

  "A submarine?" Anza asked.

  "It's cool, yeah? But it's a work in progress," Jekyll said and shuffled his feet. "We… actually had been buzzing around the bay there for most of the day because the top hatch sort of got a bit jammed."

  I sat forward. "You were trapped in there?"

  They looked at each other, crossed their arms. "Only a little bit."

  "Oh. So, I saved your lives, then," I said. "When I sprung ya."

  "Well… only a little bit."

  "Cool," I said. "Is that worth, maybe, one boat?"

  They thought for a moment, whispered to each other.

  "Sure, one boat."

  "Great!" Anza said and smiled.

  "Which," Hyde said, "you took from us last year and blew up."

  Jekyll grinned. "We're even."

  "Okay," Anza said, taking a long sip from her can. "How much for your other boat, then?"

  "It's not for sale."

  "What?" I asked. "Can we, I dunno, rent it or something?"

  "We are not in the boat rental business either," Hyde said. "But you could hire our services for a very large fee, and we can take you where you need to go."

  I looked at Anza, who lifted her shoulders and nodded.

  "Okay, we can pay you," she said. "But we'll need to leave very soon."

  The twins smiled, and Jekyll said, "Eager? I like that in a lady."

  "Puh-lease," Anza shot back.

  "Where do you need to go?" Hyde asked.

  I looked at Anza then back to the boys. "It's off the coast of Honduras, we think. Maybe Nicaragua?"

  The boys looked at each other and laughed. One said, "No way!"

  The other said, "Do you only do crazy things?"

  Anza bristled. "You cannot do this, then?"

  "Our boat is fast, si, but what you are talking about, that's not a day trip," Hyde said. "And our boat is not for big ocean runs. It's more of an up-and-back boat."

  My heart sank, and for a moment, the world spun around me. It was all too crazy. I knew it was, and reality, it seemed, realized it too and put a stop to it. I leaned forward and rested my forehead on the cool steel table.

  I felt Anza's hand squeeze my shoulder as she sat next to me.

  "No boat store nearby, I bet," she said, her palm smoothing the middle of my back.

  Sitting up again, I caught the boys' expressions as they stared at me. They were sweet kids despite being felons running a criminal enterprise that would get them locked up or shot by two different governments.

  Hyde reached out with his big hand and put it on mine gently.

  Then Anza cleared her throat. "It does not stop here. There has to be a way," she said, her back straight. "What about the Spice Lady down the beach? Maybe she will sell a boat to us."

  In unison, the twins made a pfft! noise.

  "No way," Jekyll said. "If she even knew that you two knew about her boat, she would slice you up and mix you into her next batch of sauce."

  "You wouldn't be the first," Hyde added.

  Anza said, "Fine, then we steal it."

  The three of us turned to my friend, eyes wide, saying nothing. She smiled, grabbed her can, and slugged a big gulp, too big, and choked a little. She smiled again.

  "Not possible," Jekyll said, speaking slowly. "If it's not out, which it is most of the time, it's roped to a long pier that is well lit, likely has motion detectors, and definitely has two of her armed men guarding it."

  "Sometimes three," Hyde said, his arms crossed over his chest. "They like shooting people, I think."

  "Correct. Once or twice our boat got too close for their liking and pop, pop, pop. They don't play."

  "You couldn't get within a hundred meters without them seeing you."

  Anza finished off her soda and squeezed the can, crushing it between her fingers. She arched back like a basketball player, hand over her head, arm curled in the air, eyeballing a small waste can in the corner. "Is good then," she said, tossing the can. It went in with a shunk! "We know some peoples with a tiny submarine."

  The twins looked at each other, slowly shaking their heads.

  "Two-man sub," Jekyll said.

  "Okay," Anza said, her voice rising. "Then I am one man, and one of you drives it!"

  "Can't, mira," the other brother said. "The electronics aren't finished. It takes both of us to work it right now. Only thing else we can fit in there are our rifles and a toolbox."

  His twin agreed. "You're too big."

  We heard a rattle outside the door, someone fiddling with the steel gate. Jekyll grabbed a rifle he'd had on his lap, lifting it toward the entryway. Slowly, the Actor stepped in the room, raising his hands when he saw the rifle.

  Anza sucked in a quick breath then pointed at our friend. “What about him?”

  Chapter Twenty

  “I’ll take Sally’s bike, head to your apartment,” I said. “I’ll get Uncle Jerry. Send us the coordinates when you get there, and we’ll meet up.”

  Anza nodded as we watched the twins in the moonlight pulling some big, clunky parts from their sub and dropping them on the tarp laid out over the stone bench. She fished her apartment key out of her pocket and put it in my palm, holding my hand for a moment.

  “Razzie, is so dangerous,” she said. Her eyes avoided mine. “Don’t get shot and die.”

  “See? That’s why you’re the smart one,” I said. “No getting shot. Check.”

  She let go of my hand slowly. “How will you get on plane?”

  “I’ll think of something.”

  Anza frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that. You…” She grabbed my hand again. “You have a
good heart but a wonky head.”

  I laughed. “I don’t have a wonky head.”

  “You let your emotions run away with your thinking. They have fencing and guns and probably dogs with big snarly teeth.” She looked at me with watery eyes. “What if you get caught?”

  “I won’t.”

  She gripped my shoulder. “That is not reassuring.”

  “Trust me.”

  “That only makes it worse. People say ‘trust me’ in movies all the time, then things always go wrong.”

  The mouth of the twins’ hidey-hole was closed, and even though they’d led us to it, I could no longer see it. As we walked toward the path in the reeds back to the bike, I looked over at the Actor. His eyes were moving from the twins to the sub to the bench to the beach. He wasn’t blinking.

  At the path, I gave Anza a hug, and she squeezed me back.

  She looked over her shoulder. “I should be the one—”

  “Shush, no,” I said. “You heard them. It has to be the Actor. You won’t fit. Too fat.”

  “What? No one said I was fat.”

  “I meant p-h-a-t phat, like you are too cool.”

  “No one says this anymore,” she said, punching my arm. “No, to break in and steal Uncle Jerry. Should be me.”

  I shook my head. “Silvio might recognize you. Don’t worry. I got it.”

  “Then go,” she said and handed me a device. “Actor’s phone. I’ll let you know where we are so we can meet up.”

  I smiled. “He doesn’t know you took this does he?”

  “He is too worried being freaked out,” she said, smiling back. “Is waterproof unless you go diving.”

  “Check.”

  “Don’t go diving,” she said, gave me a playful push, and started back toward the beach. “Just get Uncle Jerry. He needs you.”

  “But,” I said, and she waved, turning away. “How are you going to steal a boat from guys with rifles?”

  She spun toward me, raised both hands, palms to the sky, and said, “God will show me a path.”

  I frowned because, in truth, I didn’t trust the guy. I’d always felt He was like an absentee father, and I already had one of those.

  However, I didn’t say that to Anza.

  “Don’t worry,” she said and smiled at me. “I’ll think of something.”

  Nodding, I said to my friend, “Why does that sound far more convincing when you say it?”

  * * *

  “This is humiliating,” the Actor said then grunted as he shifted in the cramped space.

  The twins snickered.

  The idiot just in front of him was working a series of pedals while the other idiot in front of him steered. The front twin had slapped on some headgear that looked like something a kid playing a virtual reality game might wear, or a lone dude watching 3D porn.

  “By the way, you drop ass in here, and I’ll kick you in the head,” the Actor said. “How much farther?”

  “Not far,” Jekyll said. “Hey, you were on that show, right? With the swords and the dragons and the skinny girl who was naked all the time?”

  The Actor groaned. Jesus, now?

  His brother slapped a hand on the side of the minisub then clapped his hands.

  “Shit, I knew I knew you, bro!”

  “Yes, yes,” the Actor said. “How much farther?”

  Hyde turned his head to the left and right for a moment, then nodded to himself. “About a minute. You were great, man. Hated to see your show go off the air.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Did you have to go to school to learn that fake language?” Jekyll asked, working his pedals.

  The Actor sighed. “Yes, sort of,” he said then softened. “It’s a real language now. They’ve got fanboys who learned it. Actually speak it.”

  “Okay,” one said. “So, say something like ‘You have beautiful hair. It would look great on my pillow!’”

  The other twin laughed and slapped his brother’s back.

  “We didn’t have classes,” the Actor said, rubbing a spot on his chest. “They gave me audio files of just my lines. I had no idea what I was saying.”

  “But you spoke that fake language, yes?”

  The Actor frowned like he’d swallowed day-old boiled okra. “Zadravian. Horrible mix of Slavic and Nordic and the sort of sounds a badger might make if it tried to auto-fellate itself,” he said. “Thankfully, I didn’t have to speak it much.”

  “Spanish is a lovely language. It’s rhythmic and sensual. Talking with someone in Spanish is like foreplay.”

  “If Spanish is foreplay, Zadravian is like prison rape,” the Actor said.

  The two big men laughed as they worked the controls of their homemade sub.

  The brief quiet made the Actor think about what he was about to do, and that made his hands start to tremble. He balled them into fists. He spoke, hoping to calm his hammering heart. “So, it’s as easy as unleashing the boat’s line on the dock and just, uh, driving off?”

  “Oh, not easy,” Hyde said. “But that should be about the extent of it.”

  “And you really think the key will be right there on the boat?”

  “Sure,” the other one said. “They got nothing to worry about. No one would be dumb enough to steal it!”

  The Actor was beginning to hate the sound of their laughter.

  * * *

  “You hear something?” the man on the beach asked, trying to light his cigarette as he stared out at the blackness of the ocean.

  “Yeah,” the other man said and shifted the strap of his automatic rifle. His partner had an identical one. “You’ve been trying to light that for a half hour.”

  “Not a half hour!”

  “You should vape. Better for you.”

  Finally the lighter came alive, and the first man sucked in that first glorious lungful of smoke. “I don’t want to look like a poser,” he said and stuffed the lighter back in his pocket. Flicking his cigarette, he stared back at the moonlight shimmering over the water. “Thought I heard something.”

  * * *

  A minute later, the Actor stole a quick peek topside. The twins had been right. It was a big boat. The hull of it extended out beyond the edge of the long wooden dock. From up top, he could almost hop over the side and into the cabin. But he couldn't. Not yet.

  "There'll be a rope at the front tied to the dock," one of the twins said. He couldn't tell them apart anymore. Or maybe he could. He was having trouble thinking. His mind was splintering, spiked by adrenaline.

  "Okay," he said.

  "And one on the stern," the other one said. Hyde? "That's the back of the boat."

  "I know!"

  "Okay, okay," the man whispered as the other slowly began to lift the hatch again. "Get rid of those, fire up the boat, and head out."

  "That easy?"

  "No, this is stupid!" he said and smiled. "Good luck."

  The Actor slowly rose up, peeking over the lip. He squinted and saw two men with rifles standing on the beach, one with a smoke.

  He looked down again, cursed under his breath, and bracing himself with sweaty hands, lifted himself onto the tip of the dock. He turned back to the sub as one of the twins started to reseal the hatch.

  "Where will you guys be?"

  "Far from here!"

  Seconds later, they dipped into the black water and were gone.

  The knot on the thick rope at the bow of the boat took at least two minutes to work out. Trying to distract himself, the Actor made a mental note to learn about knots when it was all over.

  In the end, he'd only loosened it. But it was enough to free the rest of the long coil of rope. After another minute, he had, bit by bit, lifted it off and freed the nose of the boat. He laid the heavy, damp tangle on the dock just behind him.

  One more to go.

  Then he froze.

  Behind him, he heard a snake slithering and hissing, moving faster and faster toward him, but he was too terrified to turn around. Then he couldn't
help it. He looked back. The rope was slipping into the water.

  * * *

  "Hey, Marco," the cigarette-smoking heavy said, stepping toward the shoreline. "I think I heard a splash."

  Marco shook his head. "It's a fucking ocean. It's a collection of splashes!"

  Still moving forward, the other turned his head back. "Collection of splashes. Deep, man, deep."

  "Where are you going?"

  "I'm just looking!"

  "The Widow doesn't like us messing with her boat, man," the other said, following. "So, don't mess with it."

  "Christ," the first said, tossing his cigarette into the sand. "There's someone up there, man. They… they're up against the side of the boat, but I can see them!"

  "No," the other said, coming up beside him. "Who would… where?"

  The first man looked down at his still-burning cig on the beach, regretting that he'd thrown it way. Then he looked at the dock, trying to pick out movement in the churning darkness. He pointed.

  "It's… shit. I think it's a kid."

  * * *

  The Actor was starting to feel confident. Already, he'd finished half the job, but the hardest part would be the other rope, no question. However, his training had gotten him that far. In fact, he'd begun to envision that he was like Jack Ryan or Whatever-his-name-is from the Die Hard movies.

  I should take my shoes off. Like Bruce Willis.

  He crept forward and almost smiled. The two idiots on the beach stared out at the moonlight. They had no idea.

  * * *

  "What the fuck is he doing?"

  "Dunno," the taller man said, moving his rifle from back to front. He hadn't yet gripped it. "How do you know it's a kid?"

  "Look," the other said, pointing. "He's fucking wearing his pajamas."

  "I think it's… a robe."

  "Whatever."

  * * *

  The Actor wiped his mouth to stop from grinning. He’d never been in an action movie, always playing the quirky neighbor or grumpy shopkeeper. Then there was the train movie, sure. But he’d never played an action hero.