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CHAPTER 33 - Tuesday, 10:39 p.m.
As they sunk ever deeper into the dark water, Gabby wondered why in the world Rebecca had done it. Jail would have been better than instant death. If they could hold their breath long enough, would they eventually bob to the surface and float? But even if they could float, being back to back, wouldn't one be breathing while the other drowned?
Surely the police had heard them splash into the water.
Gabby felt the gradual rotation to vertical as they went down. When he felt the soft muddy bottom, he instinctively bent his knees, hoping Rebecca was doing the same. As soon as he reached a squatting position, he jumped up. Apparently she had done the same thing, because they were now bulleting toward the surface. Would they make it to the top? They might not have enough oxygen for a second try.
Miraculously, their heads broke through the surface of the water.
Gabby began to move his legs frantically, like a mermaid's tail, trying to stay above the water.
Rebecca whispered. "Be still. I've got us."
Gabby stopped. How were they staying afloat? What was Rebecca doing-resting her chin on the ledge? For now, he didn't care how she was doing it. He wanted to call out to the police before they went under again.
One of the cops said, "I think it came from over here somewhere."
Gabby saw the flashlight beam, and realized that he and Rebecca were under the lower deck. There was a foot of clearance between the lower deck and the water. He almost yelled for help. But he couldn't. Rebecca had told him to hold still. He trusted her.
"Probably just a fish," said one of the cops.
"Must have been a big one."
After the cops had walked along the back edge of the lower dock inspecting it with their flashlights for another minute or so, they went back up the stairs and joined their fellow officers. Soon, doors opened and closed, and the cars drove away.
Gabby said, "How are you holding-"
"-quiet," said Rebecca.
When the cars were far away, Gabby wanted to speak, but he waited. He could hear his heart beating in his ears.
"Okay," said Rebecca. "They're gone."
"How are you holding us up?"
"I managed to pull my hands loose. I'm holding onto a joist. It's one of the boards that support the decking."
"Well, you could have told me, so I wouldn't have thought we were going to drown."
"They would have heard me. I pulled it free right before I rolled us into the water."
"I really thought we were dead."
"I'm sorry. I just couldn't let them put us in jail knowing Big Bill's killer might never be caught."
"We'd probably both get life."
"Or the electric chair."
"Well, I don't want to fry. But I sure don't want to drown either."
"Don't worry. I've got it under control." She began to untie the rope that was holding them back to back.
"Don't lose me," said Gabby. "I'll sink to the bottom if you let go of me."
"I've got you." She pulled the last knot apart and the rope began to loosen.
"I'm going under!"
Rebecca grabbed his arm and pulled him back up. She let go of the board and started tying the rope around Gabby's chest. They both began to sink.
"What are you doing?"
Rebecca reached up, grasped the board, and pulled them back up. "I'm going to tie you to the dock and go find a knife."
"Okay. Sounds good. I think."
"Here we go again." Several more times, she released the board, worked at tying the rope around Gabby's chest, grabbed hold of the board again, and pulled them back up.
She eased them over to the edge of the lower deck and looped the rope around a dock post and pulled on it until Gabby's head was positioned safely above the top of the water.
Rebecca pulled herself up, and climbed on top of the deck. "Okay. Now we need to cut the rest of these zip-ties off. There's got to be a knife on one of these boats." She began hopping toward one of them.
"Be careful."
She tripped on something and nearly fell off the dock.
"Maybe you'd better find a flashlight first."
"Good idea, Smart a.s.s."
CHAPTER 34 - Tuesday, 10:52 p.m.
Gabby s.h.i.+ned the flashlight under the dash for Rebecca. "You really think you can hotwire this thing?"
"Sure."
"How do we know if this old truck will even run?"
"We don't. But we're about to find out. Our only other choice is to walk all the way back to town."
"I guess you do this a lot in your line of work."
"Haven't done it in years. But it's pretty easy on these older vehicles." She stripped another wire with the knife she'd found on an old fis.h.i.+ng boat.
"I hear a car coming."
"Get down."
Rebecca peeked over the top of the dashboard, and her heart skipped a beat. It was a fully-restored, 1963 Riverside Red Chevy Impala Super Sport. She had dated a boy in college with that exact same car. She loved cla.s.sic cars like her dad, and it had been the only reason she agreed to go out with the otherwise unworthy suitor.
"Rebecca, get down."
The car doors opened, and one of the men said, "Where the h.e.l.l are they?"
Judging by the man's accent, he was Hispanic.
Rebecca took another peek, and saw the man taking out his cell phone.
"Bobby? We're here at the marina. Where are they? I thought you said they'd be sitting out here in the plain sight...yeah, we just got here...well, don't blame me. We were on the other side of town when you called...Yeah, we've been drinking. So, what?...You must not have tied them up very well, Bro, because they're gone...Okay, yeah, we'll look around. If they're here, we'll find them."
He led the other two men over to the stairs, and down to the lower deck. "If they're still tied up, they couldn't have gone far."
Rebecca said, "Okay. It's now or never." She touched two wires together and the truck's starter clicked.
"It's not going to work," said Gabby. "We'd better make a run for it."
The leader of the gang started barking orders in Spanish.
Rebecca tried again, and the starter clicked again. "The battery's weak."
Gabby took a quick look out the window. "They're coming fast. We've got to run."
Rebecca tried again. This time the starter worked. The engine coughed and sputtered at first, as though it had not been started for several weeks. She revved it a couple of times, dropped it into gear, and stomped the accelerator. The truck began to move.
"Can't you go any faster?" said Gabby.
Rebecca glanced back at the truck bed. "It's all that treated lumber in the bed." She had built a backyard deck with her dad, and knew that the eight-foot 4-by-4's weighed about forty pounds each.
They heard a gunshot and ducked. The back window shattered and shards of gla.s.s rained down on the back of their heads.
"We'll be okay as long as we stay low. That lumber is our bullet-proof vest," said Rebecca.
"I hope they're not smart enough to shoot the gas tank or the tires."
As they made it out of the marina onto the two lane road, the truck continued to pick up speed. Soon they were doing 60 mph.
But the Impala was coming up fast from behind.
"Don't let them come up beside us," said Gabby, "or we're dead."
"I've got it covered," said Rebecca.
Every time the Impala tried to pull up next to the truck, Rebecca steered the truck to that side and blocked it. She tried to do it without touching the car, knowing that a fender ding could send the driver of the Impala into a rage. Right now, he was just doing a job. But mess up his car, and it would become personal.
"We can't outrun this guy," said Gabby. "And when we get to the freeway, he'll be able to pa.s.s us-"
"-and shoot us through the door." Rebecca veered sharply to the right, into the gra.s.s. The truck began to bounce on the uneven, b.u.mpy ground.
"What are you doing?" said Gabby.
"His car can't handle this."
"I'm not sure this truck can handle it either."
"But did you see the way the front his car was jacked up? His rear is going to drag bottom."
The headlights followed them into the gra.s.s.
Gabby looked back, "They're gaining on us."
Bullets. .h.i.t the truck, but most were absorbed by the lumber in the bed.
"I hope the tailgate holds," said Rebecca. "Because if that baby falls open..."
Gabby peeked over the seat to look back. "They're slowing down. I think they stopped."
"Great. It worked."
"Now, can you get us back onto the road."
Rebecca steered to the left. "It's a pretty good slope. I hope we can make it back up."
"Maybe it would help if we dump the wood."
"Yeah, we might have to."
Gabby looked back. "The tailgate's open on one side. One of those bullets must have hit the bracket.
Gabby saw the Impala struggling to U-turn and go back up the way it came down.
The truck had slowed to 5 mph by the time they drove back onto the road.
"That was too close," said Gabby. He looked back. "Oh, s.h.i.+t! Here they come."