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Shock had overtaken Hogan, who sat motionless just a few feet from the cabin. There was no train of thought or attempt to flee. The sight of blood dripping from Burke’s dangling forearms had destroyed any rational thought. Another powerful thud hit the bow, creating further mayhem as the front of the boat detached from the main body, tipping upward as it slowly started sinking into the water. Hogan’s breathing rate started to increase again as he heard a huge splash of water slam into the inside of his vessel, causing it to go down, slightly tilting towards the front. He looked up and managed to take a single breath as the other two tentacles lunged for him. One wrapped around his legs as the other grabbed him by the torso, wrapping underneath his armpits. Almost instantaneously, his arms reached for the sky, his eyes swelled, and his jaw stretched widely as the barbs sank into his chest and legs. The tentacle that had wrapped around his chest, which was rising from the portside, began to pull its prey towards toward the left side of the boat. The other tentacle rose from the stern, coming up under the rail, towards which it also began to pull. Hogan gurgled as each muscle in his torso stretched. His stomach muscle split, spilling the digestive containments into the rest of the body. The intestines unfolded and pulled apart. Several disks along the spine violently herniated, creating several painful bursting sensations along his back. Veins and arteries exploded, causing blood to mix with the other numerous fluids. Hogan made a painful squeal as the skin, containing his now mushy insides, tore open. His kidneys fell out onto the deck, rolling like fist-sized tennis balls over the starboard edge. Intestines and stomach tissue dragged along the bloody deck as his upper body was pulled toward the port edge. Before the shadow of death finally overtook him, he watched as his lower body, containing everything below his abdomen, slid over the back of the boat into the water. The last thing he felt was the slapping of water against the shredded flesh on his back.
Pieces of wood and metal drifted in opposite directions; some toward the island shore, some away from it. What was briefly chaos was once again a dark, gritty peace. And beginning at the edge of the horizon set a blackness, as the sun’s rays disappeared into the other side of the earth.
CHAPTER
4
“Oooh, good Lord,” Napier moaned, stretching his arms out into the air. His eyes were still feeling heavy, keeping him from getting out of his bed. Lying on his back, he continued dozing in and out. As he roused, he could hear thunder rumbling overhead, along with a light rain that patted on the roof. Luckily, Sundays were his day off, so he wouldn’t have to go out on the Catcher. He looked to his right at the window on the center top of his wall, seeing the grey storm clouds that hung over the island. Rainy weather always helped him fall asleep, which was probably why he was having a hard time waking up. The brown bed sheets were peeling off the corners of the mattress from Napier’s tossing and turning overnight; he was a very uncomfortable sleeper.
The clock clicked to nine a.m. as he finally sat up, yawning quietly. Even as he sat up, he felt very comfortable in his black sweatpants and white t-shirt... almost too comfortable. The idea of sleeping in some more did not bother him. His eyes were still somewhat heavy, and his black hair stood up on end where he slept on it. He swung himself around, sitting up over the edge of the bed. Light thunder continued to roll as he touched his bare feet to the oak wood floor. He stood up straight, bending backwards a few times to help relieve some of the cramps in his back. He walked to his dresser, pulling out a drawer at the top and one at the bottom. The one on the top contained t-shirts while the other one contained jeans. He reached into both, pulling out a comfortable pair of ocean-blue jeans and a black t-shirt. Piling the set of cloths in his hands, he walked out the bedroom door into the living room. The walls of the room were made from a fine red brick, covered by a white layer of plaster. In the center of the front wall was a large window that brought all of Razortooth Cove into view. Napier stood in the middle of the living room, watching the storm clouds still floating overhead, as a steady rain continued to trickle, causing numerous circular ripples in the cove. His attention was then taken by the sight of Jane, who walked into the room from the kitchen, fully dressed in long khaki shorts and a yellow short-sleeve shirt.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Hey, kiddo,” Napier greeted back. “I’m guessing this weather formed directly over us.”
“Yeah,” Jane said. “I’m already preparing for the humidity that will probably come along in a couple hours.”
“I can see that,” her dad said. He took another glance out the window. The rain had stopped and the clouds continued moving south. “Looks like the sun will be peeking out soon.”
“Well that’s good ‘cause I was planning on going out in about a half hour,” Jane said. Napier had to sometimes remind himself that Jane was growing up and people her age always loved to be around friends. He and his late wife were always together daily, causing both their parents to be constantly worried of their whereabouts.
“Where are you going this time?” he asked.
“I’m going to be with Amanda again,” she said picking up a blue school backpack from beside a couch that sat in front of the window. She usually packed lunches and soda in it whenever she went out with friends.
“You guys have been hanging out a lot lately. What were you two planning on doing today?” Jane shrugged her shoulders.
“Well, Dad, we just play it by ear,” she said. “We figure out what to do as we go along. I mean, sometimes we plan stuff ahead, but usually it’s spontaneous.”
“I see,” Napier said. He always trusted his daughter, but something in his gut was telling him that there was something more going on than simply hanging out with her friend. He had no clue what could possibly be going on, but there was something else happening in his daughter’s life. “Hey,” he said, “Did you want me to take you around on the Catcher one of these days? I know how you always liked boat rides.” Jane stood by the furniture, thinking for a moment before looking back up at her dad.
“Well, that’d be nice,” she said, almost sounding as if she felt awkward. “Well, we’ll see. I’ll have to figure out when I can get a day to myself.” Napier knew that this meant she had no real interest in going. She had the whole summer off, so there should be no trouble getting a day to herself. Of course, what high school age teenager wanted to be with his or her parent?
“Well, only if you want to,” he said. He took a deep breath as the remainder of the sleepiness left his eyes. “Well, I’m going to take a shower. Then I’m going to drive into town.”
“Where are you going?” Jane asked, trying to sound interested.
“I’m gonna go talk to the chief. I want to see if he found out anything about that weird piece of metal that we hauled out of the water yesterday,” he answered. “But first, I’m gonna head into the shower. Were you planning on taking the truck?”
“Oh, no,” she said. “I was just gonna go ahead and walk there. It’s only like a ten minute walk. If we go into town we can take her car.”
“Alright. Well, by the time I get out of the shower you’ll probably be gone, so you keep yourself safe, you hear?”
“Will do, Dad,” Jane said, cracking a smile. Napier walked through the kitchen into the bathroom. Jane heard the knob in the shower squeak as her dad twisted it to open the flow of water. She knelt down and grabbed her tennis shoes. She placed them on her feet and tightly tied the laces. Finally, she grabbed her backpack and walked out the door.
********
The storm clouds had drifted away towards the south, giving clear passage to the bright yellowish beams of sunlight. The ocean water sparkled; the grass lit a bright greenish color, as did the tropical trees all over the island, and the sandy beaches glowed like shiny gold. Dressed in his blue jeans and black short sleeve shirt, Rick Napier locked the front door of his house, breathing in the surprisingly fine morning air. He thought that the humidity would spike like an angry volcano, but this turned out to be one of the few
times it didn’t happen. He walked down the porch steps to his white truck, opening up the driver’s side door and sat on the comfortable cushioned seat. He grabbed the key from his pocket and jammed it into the slot. He twisted the ignition, creating a light roar in the engine. Napier pushed the transmission into DRIVE, and steered the vehicle through the driveway, hooking around the side of the house into the road, where he turned right and began his short trip to Chief Bondy’s office.
The scenery was usually the same on any trip: local children would play near the edge of the road, usually with a soccer ball or a basketball; elderly people enjoyed tending gardens around their homes; maintenance men and carpenters were always putting up luxury houses, giving tourists a place to stay during their summer visits. Napier drove the truck into the town, where business flourished. Countless business stands lined the road as people sold hot dogs, lemonade, beer, and some things that Napier couldn’t pronounce if his life depended on it. In the middle of the town was a large supermarket, where most of the islanders did their shopping. He slowly drove past it, being especially careful because the area in front of the market was usually teeming with shoppers heading in and out.
He pulled the truck onto a small blacktop driveway, carefully aiming the truck in-between the yellow lines that made up the parking spaces. In front of the blacktop was a small, brown building with a sign that read in large letters: Chief of Mako’s Center. Shifting the transmission into PARK, he pulled the key out from the slot and stepped out of the truck. He entered the front door of the building, embracing the sudden chill of the air conditioning. A few feet in front of him was a counter that stood about chest high. He walked up to it and rested his elbows on the flat surface, seeing Chief Bondy sitting at his desk. The entire building was composed of empty desks and chairs.
“Yo! How are you doing, buddy?” Napier called out with a smile. Chief Bondy looked up from the paperwork on his desk, returning with a small, but pleasant smile. His uniform was made up of light grey trousers and a short sleeve shirt that read Mako’s Center Police Department. He stood up and walked to the counter.
“I’m not doing too bad,” he said. “However, I got a lot on my hands today.”
“Oh, really?” Napier said. The chief usually didn’t have much to do except settle local disputes and keep the people in order, which wasn’t hard to do because disputes didn’t happen very often. For him to have his hands full meant that this would probably be a memorable day.
“Yeah, I guess a boat went down over near Mako’s Edge,” he explained. “This is tough shit because I’m so short staffed. I’ve got a small crew out over there to try and collect as much of it as they can. Deputy Drake should be back here shortly.”
“Oh my God,” Napier exclaimed. “You said it was near Mako’s Edge. Was it Old Hooper’s boat?”
“No,” Bondy answered. “We’re not one-hundred percent sure yet, but we believe that it was Steve Hogan’s boat.”
“Oh, son-of-a-bitch!” Napier said, almost in an angry tone. “That man had a drift net out there. I was actually gonna meet up with him and give him a bit of hell for being a big enough fool to even think of such a thing. Did… did they find him?”
“Obviously not, or we would know for sure what had happened,” Bondy said.
“Oh,” Napier said, adding up the logic in his mind. Bondy grabbed his dark windshield jacket and buttoned it up.
“I’m gonna have to go out there,” he said. “I’m sorry I can’t help you with whatever you came here for.”
“Oh, no. Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You said you were shorthanded; do you want me to go out there with you? I’d like to help in any way I can.” Bondy bit his lip as he thought the idea over.
“If you don’t mind, then yeah, sure,” he said. He pushed a small door open at the center of the counter and the two men walked out the entrance. Chief Bondy only had a few deputies due to the lack of action that happened near Mako’s Center, so he was normally pretty open to the idea of having outside help. He held the door open for Napier, who stepped back onto the heated asphalt. Bondy followed him out and shut the door just a few seconds before he beheld the sight of Deputy Drake, who had just pulled into the driveway. Drake was a chubby lawman, but it didn’t surprise most because there wasn’t much for them to do except drive around the island a few times a day, then go back to the office and eat donuts.
“Hey, guys,” he said, holding a hand over his mouth to hide a small belch.
“Hey, Drake,” Bondy said. “How’s it looking?” The deputy shrugged his shoulders, unsure of how to answer the question.
“What can I say,” he began. “I mean, I wasn’t out there, but the civilian who spotted the site said there’s nothing but wreckage left. From what I’ve been told, I would recommend getting the U.S. Coast Guard out here to sweep these waters for any bodies.”
Complete wreckage?” Napier said. “I wouldn’t be the least surprised that somebody could put enough holes in their vessel by going through some of them rocks, but you make it sound like the whole thing was destroyed.” Drake nodded, confirming to Napier that he was not exaggerating.
“No, sir,” he said. “The person who spotted the thing told us that the whole area was a floating mass of boat pieces. He said he spotted deck pieces, engine parts, pipes, railing, you name it.” Napier looked over at Chief Bondy, who was about to step into the police truck.
“Chief, don’t you think that sound’s at least a little bit weird?” Napier asked. “I mean, you’d have to really try hard to completely tear the boat apart.”
“What are you trying to get at?” Bondy said. He wasn’t concerned with any wild ideas or accusations. He was simply in the mood to get to the scene and examine the area.
“I’m not sure,” Napier answered. He could tell that the Chief wanted to get a move on, so he quickly got into the passenger seat of the truck. The chubby Deputy hobbled into the office building, preparing himself for numerous reports that he would have to fill out and print.
********
The rippling surface of the ocean surrounding Mako’s Center was like a reflective mirror as Bondy throttled the white police yacht away from the southern port. The sunlight beamed down hard, making Napier feel as if he was being cooked inside his black shirt.
“Eight years of post High School Education, Associate of Science degree, Bachelors degree, Masters degree, half of my fucking doctorate, and I was still fucking retarded enough to grab a stupid black shirt in ninety degree weather!” he ranted to himself. Bondy couldn’t help but chuckle as he steered the boat toward Mako’s Edge.
“Can’t say I’ve never done the same thing,” he said, keeping his eye on the big black rock in the middle of the horizon that was the destination. “Then again, our police uniforms used to be dark blue, practically black. We didn’t really have a choice. Back in those days we always prayed for winter to come. No snow, obviously, but the cooler temperature helped.” Napier carefully bent down under the rail and reached his hand down the side of the moving vessel, allowing some sea water to splash onto his skin. After gathering enough water in his palm, he splashed his face and dipped his hand over the side again to get some more.
“Yeah, well like you said: You didn’t have a choice,” Napier said, mixing sweat with seawater. “I just got up in the morning, grabbed the first clothes I saw, and threw them on. Some smart scientist I am.”
“You ever think about going back and finishing your doctorate?” Bondy asked, embracing the refreshing breeze that pushed in the opposite direction they were traveling.
“Oh here we go,” Napier exclaimed. It constantly seemed like that unfinished goal kept coming back to bite him in the ass. “Actually, to my surprise, Jane is the one who actually tries to encourage me to finish it. Hell, when I was her age, I had zero intention of going to college, and honestly couldn’t stand it when other people would talk about whether or not they were going, or what they were studying, or whatever. She has a lot of her mot
her in her.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. When my wife Katherine and I were dating during my senior year of high school, she would actually tug on my arm to get me to further my education. She rather enjoyed school, though I never figured out why. I loved learning about science; I just hated to do the stupid research papers. Now Jane, she never enjoyed school as much as Katherine always did, but she certainly likes it a lot more than I do.”