Suddenly, the vibrations under his feet stopped.
He stood up.
He could hear footsteps above him, then saw Heller descend the outside ladder in the back. He had a portable battery-powered light in one hand and a bang stick in the other.
Heller unlocked the door and slid it open. Water was streaming off the upper deck onto his rain cap.
“You didn’t come the first time. Why?” Heller demanded.
Louis kept his eyes on the bang stick in Heller’s right hand. He forced himself to speak calmly.
“I didn’t get the message.”
“You should have come! You ruined the plan! You should have come!”
“What plan?”
“It doesn’t matter. I changed it.” Heller set the light on a table just inside the door. “You came this time. Now I can finish the plan.”
Louis raised his hand, backing up slowly. “No, you don’t have to,” he said. “You have a choice.”
Heller’s face changed suddenly. “I never had a choice!” he screamed, waving the bang stick. “I never had a fucking choice!”
Louis backed around a post, his heart hammering, his breath shallow. His eyes searched the floor for a weapon, a pole, anything.
“Ty, they know we’re out here. They’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”
“I’m not going back!” Heller shouted. He turned, and then spun back, his face distorted. “You should know that! What’s wrong with you? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why do you pretend you’re different?”
Louis stared at him, trying to get a grip on his fear. He knew there were two people inside Heller, but he didn’t know which one he was talking to. But he needed to say something. Anything.
“Different than who?” he asked.
“Me!” Heller screamed. “Me!”
Different? Jesus. . he wasn’t different. He was as close to Heller as anyone could get. In age, in build, and in color.
What did he say? What could he say to this man?
“I’m not different than you,” Louis said loudly. “I understand you. I understand everything.”
Heller shook his head violently, spraying water. “No one understands!” he screamed. “I have things I need to do! I have things inside me other people don’t have! And I can’t get rid of them. Do you hear me? I can’t get rid of them!”
Heller’s voice had turned thick with rage.
“That’s why I’m doing this. That’s why I’m taking the boat. He doesn’t want it anymore. He doesn’t want anything anymore.”
“Including you?” Louis asked.
Heller’s face tightened, the muscles stretched hard against the bone.
“Stupid piece of shit. . stupid piece of shit,” Heller said, repeating it over and over, as he walked toward him.
“Heller, listen to me-”
Heller stopped talking, his eyes drifting to the floor. His breathing slowed.
“Heller. .”
Heller didn’t move for several seconds; then he lifted his eyes slowly. “You came to me. Do you hear me? You tell them, you came to me.”
This was crazy. How was he going to tell anyone anything?
“Ty. .”
Heller started shaking his head, coming closer. “Stop talking to me. You’re not supposed to talk.”
Louis backed up again, only a couple of the benches separating them. Heller leveled the bang stick.
Louis felt the wall against his back. His hands searched for something he could grab but there was nothing.
The tip of the stick inched toward him. He thought about kicking up, trying to knock the bang stick out of Heller’s hand, but knew he would be too slow.
His eyes flicked between the tip of the bang stick and Heller’s face, hoping he could see a sign-a flinch-something that would tell him when Heller was about to thrust the stick into him.
Heller stepped closer. His eyes jumped down to Louis’s legs.
Now!
Louis threw out his hand just as Heller lunged. The tip smashed into the wall and exploded.
The blast echoed against the metal, and Heller stumbled backward.
Louis dove to the floor. He sucked in a breath. He was alive. And not hit.
Heller was in the shadows, trying to reload the stick. Louis could hear him. “Shit. . shit.”
Louis felt along the cold floor until he found a fishing pole. He pulled it to him, easing himself into the darkness behind the post. He curled around it, coming up behind Heller as he was trying to shove another shell into the bang stick.
Louis held the pole in the center, the huge metal reel hanging heavy on the far end. With both hands, he swung.
The reel smashed into Heller’s cheek. Heller yelped and threw his hand to his face. He dropped the bang stick and the shell bounced out.
Louis backtracked toward the open rear door. He would lock the son of a bitch in.
Outside, water rushed off the top deck, pouring over him, and he couldn’t get a good grip on the metal door. He pulled harder, inching it along with each jerk.
A knife shot out the narrow opening, ripping blindly at his arm, slicing into it. Louis jerked back, his hand over the wound, blood between his fingers.
Heller shoved the door open.
Louis staggered back. Candy-his gun. He had to get to it. He had no choice but to make a complete circle around the boat and pray Heller didn’t know what he was after.
Louis ran to his right, slipping down the walkway, away from Heller.
His arm throbbed, he couldn’t see, couldn’t hear anything over the roar of the rain. The gun. . he needed to get around the boat to the other side.
Something hit him hard from above, crashing into his shoulders, crushing him into the deck. Heller had jumped him from the top deck.
Louis jerked up, gasping, pedaling backward, until he was pressed against the cabin wall.
Heller came at him, knife raised.
Nowhere to go. No time even to draw up his feet to push him away.
Heller thrust the knife toward his chest.
No choice! Grab it!
Louis grabbed the blade. It sliced into his palm and he let out a yell, gritting his teeth against the pain. He gripped the blade tighter, fighting to angle it away from him. Heller tried to draw it back, wrench it away, but Louis held tight, blood streaming down his arm.
Heller jerked to his right.
Louis snapped the knife to the left. It broke off in his hand and Louis tossed it over the railing.
For an instant, Heller stood there, his eyes riveted to the broken knife butt.
Now!
Louis hit him in the face. Heller fell sideways, the butt skittering across the deck.
He hit him again, and again, but Heller was unfazed, coming back at him. Heller lunged forward, smashing his fists into Louis’s face. Slammed backward, Louis could get no leverage, draw no strength. He started grappling for Heller’s throat, anything to restrain him.
Oh, Jesus. Jesus.
Heller was pummeling him with blows to the face and head. Louis rolled to his side, shielding his face, inching away, pounded now by punches to his back.
Fighting him off with his elbows and legs, Louis pulled himself up on the rail. The boat lurched and for just a moment the pounding stopped.
A spool of fishing line was at his feet. Louis grabbed it and spun, swinging it upward. The heavy wooden spool crashed into Heller’s head. Heller fell against the cabin wall, then slipped to the deck, blood pouring down his face.
Louis wiped the bloody water from his eyes.
Lights! Flashing blue lights far off in the distance.
Hold on. . just five more minutes. Hold on!
He staggered toward the back of the boat, holding his bleeding palm. He heard Heller behind him and he knew he would never make it around to Candy. He found the open door and fell inside, struggling to close it. It shut and he stumbled toward the rear of the cabin. He heard the door slam open and looked up to see Heller standing in the opening, the broken knife in his hand.