They didn’t search the island. Not ten minutes later, the boat reappeared. The hull came out slowly, bobbing on the surface, using only a fraction of its power, ticking forward at the pace of a clock hand. Within his scoped view he could see two of the three men standing. Shorty had his hands up to his face, holding something over his eyes. Binoculars!
Edward slowly leaned closer behind the tree, but didn’t move. Shorty looked off toward the horizon and then slowly turned, scanning around the nearby island, turning, turning, turning until he was looking toward the south tip of Peter Island. He swept up the beach and, for an icy moment, appeared to stop on Edward. Shorty continued his sweep to the northern point of the beach. The glare affected his view as well. Then the other man standing pointed at something coming out of the inlet.
A boat appeared at the end of the beach. A blue boat. Mary heading home. She must have stopped at his house. When she saw he wasn’t there, she left to continue on to her mother’s house. Coming through the inlet was like entering a snare. She came out just a few hundred feet from the drug runners. Edward stood up.
“No, go back. Mary, go back.”
She continued on, ignoring the other boat. Edward slid his view onto the go-fast. Shorty and the other man sat down, falling into their seats as the boat jumped forward. While Mary’s boat galloped over the water at an even pace, the go-fast accelerated and was beside her in seconds. Mary’s boat stopped.
“Keep going!” He started walking forward without thinking about it, moving out of the tree line and onto the beach, binoculars pressed around his eyes. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”
Mary and the men talked. Argued. One of the men stepped onto the side. Then jumped across. He fell into the back of Mary’s boat, hidden for a second before standing back up. The air left Edward chest. Mary turned toward the controls. She threw the throttle forward. The bow lifted into the air. The man fell back down. The blue boat hopped ahead of the other, but it was only for a moment. The go-fast’s four engines effortlessly brought it around and back alongside her, the buzz of the gunned motors hitting his ears three seconds later. When Mary’s boat leveled out, the man jumped up. He grabbed Mary, throwing his arms around her. He lifted her out of the chair. Her legs thrashed out in a blur.
“No! It wasn’t her! She did nothing—” Edward’s voice broke.
He dropped the binoculars and ran up the beach. The tall man threw Mary over into the go-fast. The short man struggled with her over the seat. The tall man jumped over, tackling her. For a minute, Edward couldn’t see her, only the end of her hair fluttered over the side.
“It wasn’t her!” Edward waved. He sprinted forward, running as fast as he could with each footfall sinking into the loose sand.
“Hey! I got it! I got your drugs!” The driver jammed the throttle up. The tail end of the boat dropped into the water. The sharp bow rose thirty degrees. Just as the boat looked ready to slide backwards and sink into the trough it created, the growl of the motors hit him, the blade jumped, and started its tear eastward, streams of displaced water shooting up, arcing behind it, four claws slashing upward through the surface. Edward screamed, screamed over the surf, screamed into the wind until his throat hurt. His arms outstretched above his head. The white trail of foam behind the go-fast lengthened, forming a trail that bent toward the next big island.
When he reached the end of the beach, Edward ran into the water. The unprotected beach dropped quickly. In three long strides he was in up to his chest and halted. He slapped the water, still crying out until the water washed over him and he was forced to swim and breathe.
“No-no-no! Got your stupid drugs. Please, no.”
Waves knocked him back. He struggled to stay afloat, until he saw the go-fast move out of view. The breaker spun and sucked out and pushed him back as it into the steep shelf. He struggled to keep his head up and find the red go-fast until he knew it was pointless. He paddled his way back to touch bottom, and crawl up to dry sand. Dizziness from his exertion forced him on his hands and knees. He coughed and took in air, unable to see straight for a minute.
He looked down the beach from where he had come, looking for help. But the skirt of white stretching to the south end of the island was deserted as it always was.
When he was able to stand again, he looked off to where he had last seen the go-fast. There wasn’t a trace. The churning surface had erased entirely the foam trail. Mary’s blue boat bobbed on the whitecaps about five hundred feet out. Without any weight in it, it jumped like a cork on the surface. Edward ran back into the water, diving in just as it reached his waist. He started out swimming with all his strength. A minute later, depleted of energy, he had to slow and pace himself. When the surface dropped and his face was clear, he took in a breath. He repeated this until a lateral wave washed over him as he was gulping up air. He swallowed brine, coughed and spat out as much as he could. For a few seconds his throat burned, but he ignored this and continued his dig, arms moving like a paddlewheel over the surface. He noticed a stiffness in his right ankle, but ignored this. Right stroke, left stroke, breathe. He kept it up until his right Achilles locked and pain shot up his leg. He screamed. He bent his leg in agony, but he continued winding his arms. Over and over, screaming out his exhalation until he reached the shade of Mary’s boat. He climbed over the side, fell onto his back and squeezed out the cramp in his leg.
When the pain diminished, he stood, cupped his hands over his eyes and peered off in the direction he’d seen the speedboat go. It was useless to chase them, he knew. Their combined motors were ten times as powerful as Mary’s single 250-horsepower engine. Edward sat down in the captain’s seat, started the engine and pushed the throttle up. He steered eastward for a few seconds, imagining that he could look for them and eventually find them. But there were dozens of islands and he didn’t know the range of their boat. He cried out, and turned the wheel to return to his house.
He pushed the throttle of the little boat up to its max, jumping waves until he reached the bay. The boat zipped across the calm water as he aimed it for his pier.
After tying up, he ran to his house and into his kitchen. He lifted the phone and dialed. The line rang one time before a woman answered.
“What’s your police emergency?”
“My girlfriend’s been kidnapped.”
“Who has been kidnapped?”
“My girlfriend.”
“Your girlfriend’s been kidnapped? By who?”
“By drug runners—”
“Did you say drug runners? Sir, how do you know it was drug runners?”
“They had a cigar boat.”
“A cigar boat? Sir, that doesn’t mean—”
“They had drugs.” His words came out fast. Every word that left his mouth was wasting time. Every breath he sucked in to form them and every second he stood in his kitchen with the receiver pressed against his face took Mary farther away from him.
“They had drugs? Did you see the drugs? What kind?”
“I did. Please hurry. It was a red boat—”
“Did you see it happen?”
“Yes! Christ Yes! I just saw three men grab her and force her into their boat. Are you fucking listening to me?”
“Sir, please remain calm. We need the details. Why would they want to kidnap your girlfriend?”
“They think – they just did—”
“Sir, did you attempt to prevent them?”
Edward shook his head, pressing his free knuckle into his forehead. “They were far away from where I was standing on the beach, they were in a boat – I couldn’t, I couldn’t – I tried—”