Chapter 6 - Cornered At The Oyster Shack
The mastiff launched himself from the skiff like a cannonball, crossing the eight-foot gap of churning water in a terrifying blur of muscle and teeth. He struck the armed man full in the chest before the muzzle could swing toward Emily. Both the dog and the intruder tumbled off the slippery pier, hitting the churning creek with a tremendous splash.
The man surfaced screaming, splashing violently as Atlas dragged him by his Kevlar vest toward the mud flats.
Emily pulled the starter cord again. This time, the two-stroke engine roared to life, screaming with high-pitched defiance. She slammed the throttle into reverse, snapping the frayed mooring line like a thread.
Above her on the main deck, Luke appeared at the railing. He didn't use the ladder. He vault over the splintered timber, hit the bow of the skiff with a heavy thud, and rolled cleanly into the cockpit, carrying his shotgun and the duffel bag.
""Atlas! In!"" Luke bellowed.
Through the darkness, the massive dog surged through the shallow water, clamping his jaws onto the gunwale. Luke seized the dog by the harness handle, hauling the hundred-pound hound out of the brine with one mighty heave.
""Floor it!"" Luke yelled, pointing out into the pitch-black maze of marsh grasses. ""Stay twenty yards off the starboard bank! The channel runs through the cordgrass!""
Emily shoved the tiller arm forward. The skiff rose on plane, tearing across the surface of the sound at breakneck speed. Behind them, the searchlight on the large workboat swung wildly, tracking their wake. The roar of the Zodiac's twin outboards screamed in pursuit, closing the distance with terrifying velocity.
""They're faster than us!"" Emily shouted over the wind.
""They have four hundred horsepower,"" Luke yelled back, opening the duffel bag and pulling out two heavy commercial distress flares. ""But they don't know the oyster cages!""
Luke raised a flare, twisted the firing cap, and held the brilliant, blinding crimson magnesium torch high above his head. The light turned the torrential rain into a curtain of blood, completely destroying the night vision of the men in the Zodiac.
The pursuers opened fire, bullets ripping through the salt spray and tearing chunks out of the wooden stern.
Luke dropped the flare into the water behind them and pulled a massive spool of heavy monofilament netting from the duffel. ""Emily, hard left at the white stake! Do not hesitate!""
Emily saw the rotting wooden marker jutting from the black water twenty yards ahead. She threw her entire weight against the tiller. The skiff carved a violent, sliding turn through the shallow spray, skimming over a mud bank with mere inches of clearance.
The Zodiac, charging blindly behind them through the flare smoke, didn't turn.
Its high-speed props drove straight into Luke’s submerged commercial oyster lines—thousands of feet of high-tensile braided wire and steel mesh cages anchored to concrete footings.
The sound that followed was catastrophic.
The twin outboard engines shrieked as the steel cables instantly wrapped around the spinning propellers, ripping the lower units clean off the transom. The Zodiac flipped forward at thirty knots, hurling all four armed men into the shallow, shell-strewn mud flats like ragdolls. The boat smashed against a sandbar, its hull cracking in two, the dying whine of its drowned engines lost in the howling gale.
Out in the main channel, the mother boat with the yellow stripe halted, its captain frantically killing his searchlight, unwilling to risk running aground on the treacherous oyster beds.
Emily eased the throttle back, her arms trembling so violently she could barely hold the tiller. Luke climbed past her, cutting the motor to a gentle, quiet idle that drifted silently into the black labyrinth of the inner marshes.
Atlas lay panting at her feet, his wet fur pressing against her ankles, shivering from the adrenaline.
Luke turned to look at her. The rain washed over his face, flattening his dark hair, highlighting the deep line of the scar above his eye. He reached out, his calloused palm gently resting over her knuckles on the tiller.
""You handled that skiff like a waterman,"" he said quietly.
Emily let out a breathless, shuddering laugh that tasted of salt and rain. ""My father took me crabbing when I was six. He told me that if you panic in a marsh, the mud will keep you forever.""
May you like
""He was a smart man,"" Luke said. He pulled out his satellite phone from a waterproof pouch. He checked the display. ""It's two in the morning. Carl Vance thinks we're either dead or trapped out in the sound. He’s going to move on the courthouse tonight to make sure no other documents exist.""
Emily looked toward the distant, faint glow of the town lights inland. ""Then let's go get my grandfather's desk.""
