The Hunting (11 page)

‘Where you headed?’ the man asked casually. ‘You’re late getting started. I was working on the next boat when I heard you arrive.’

Rian wondered if he was a stranger or managed the marina, or what. He kept calm, although his palms were sweating now. He hoped the girls would stay calm too.

‘Horseshoe Bay. Picking up Reverend Schneider there for a Bible studies weekend,’ Rian told him, making sure the guy couldn’t read his face. He was sure people could tell when he lied. Genie was the good liar, not him.

‘Well, you’re in luck. Fixed the compass only yesterday. I guess if he’s coming along, then this is a freebie, huh? When will you be back?’

Genie popped up and smiled at the man. He was wearing Lycra shorts one size too small for him and his massive thighs.

‘Hi. Monday, I guess. We have to go back to college. You know how to make the shower work?’

The man smiled back, especially when Renée appeared alongside her in her pants and T-shirt. His eyeballs practically fell out, he was so interested.

‘You’ll have to wait for the tanks to fill, but I think you have to switch a red dial to up in the shower cubicle and then back again when you finish. I just had the whole thing checked out and everything’s working. Oh, there’s only small sizes in lifejackets. But that shouldn’t be a problem. ‘

He saw Moucher lying flat by Genie’s feet and looking most unhappy.

‘Make sure the dog wears a lifejacket at all times, OK. They can make sudden jumps and, when at sea, keep him in the cabin.’

‘He’s not a good sailor,’ Renée pointed out with a cute smile.

‘Distract him. Here …’ He jumped on to the next boat and pulled out a rubber chew toy from a box left on the deck. ‘Last charter left this. I was going to throw it out.’ He jumped back on to the walkway.

Genie took it from him. She tossed it to Mouch, who spurned it.

‘Diesel?’ Rian asked him. ‘Where’s the … ?’

‘We’re waiting on delivery. But there’s plenty at Horseshoe Bay.’

Rian nodded. That was annoying, but at least they had enough to get going.

‘You been out before?’ the man asked. ‘The Reverend doesn’t usually charter this out to inexperienced sailors. He’s quite particular.’

‘My dad trained me. He goes out fishing a lot,’ Rian answered. It was true, but it had been three years previously and he’d done nothing except watch his dad drink and fish out on the lake, but he wasn’t going to mention that.

‘Well, there’s a guide to the rules of the sea in the cabin. Make sure you read it. There’s distress flares in the cupboard and the radio must be kept on. You’ve got all the safety equipment required. Read the checklist. You have to alert the harbourmaster when you’re leaving. All right?’

Rian nodded. ‘How long does the water take to fill?’

‘It’ll be flushed in ten, about half an hour to fill, I guess. Give you time to get familiar with the boat. There’s no moon, so it’s going to be pretty dark out there. So lights on, and watch out for the wakes from the big ships, particularly the ferries. Don’t get close, just get out of their way. If you aren’t used to it, it can be scary.’

‘We have gas to cook with?’ Renée asked from inside.

‘Lift the top from the counter on your right. See?’

Renée did so and discovered a sink, stove and all kinds of useful things – pots and pans stowed really tight.

‘Neat.’

‘Keep it that way. A clean boat is a happy one. You got any booze?’

‘On a Bible studies cruise?’ Rian asked.

The man laughed. ‘I guess not.’ He turned away. ‘You have a safe trip now, OK? Keep your speed to around eight knots or slower and you’ll save gas. No need to go anywhere fast. Oh yeah, weather’s going to change. So keep close to the coast. You’ll be fine in Horseshoe Bay, but they say pressure’s dropping quickly. Can get tricky out there sometimes.’

Rian watched him return to another yacht and disappear inside. They had thirty minutes to wait for the water to fill.

‘I’m going to cook,’ Renée announced.

‘Lucky I brought three bottles of water,’ Genie said.

Rian looked up at the sky and the few clouds hovering, and frowned. The weather looked fine to him, but what did he mean by ‘get tricky’?

‘You think he’ll call Schneider?’ Genie asked Rian as he joined them in the cabin.

Rian shrugged. ‘No. He’s busy. But we can’t leave suddenly. That would only make him suspicious. We’ll be fine, as long we’re all smiling and relaxed. Seems Schneider rents the boat out, so he must be used to people arriving like this.’

Renée just smiled. ‘I could go make eyes at him. You see the way he was looking at me? Like he hadn’t eaten in months.’

Genie laughed. ‘Well, I guess he wasn’t looking at me. I swear he was going to drool. Gut feeling, Ri. He won’t call.’

Rian looked at her and leaned in to kiss her. ‘I hope your gut is right.’ He turned to look at Renée. ‘What we eating?’

‘Fusilli primavera. My speciality.’

Moucher barked. Genie was tearing open his box of biscuits.

‘And for starters,’ Renée added, looking at the dog, ‘all vegetable dog biscuits with added vitamins.’

‘Mmm, can’t wait,’ Rian replied.

Neither could Moucher, who practically ripped the food out of Genie’s hands.

‘Eat slow, Mouch. Have some dignity,’ Genie told him, but he ignored her.

An hour later they motored out of the marina and under the Burrard Bridge, real slow and casual, just as they were asked to do. Lights on, keeping out of everyone’s way. English Bay opened up to them and Genie continued to be entranced. It was such a magical place. She could see people strolling by the shore and everywhere huge towers of apartments. She had no idea how many people lived here but Marshall had been right, it was a good place to hide. She longed to get to know the city better. It seemed ridiculous to just come and go so quickly. So much to see and they were already leaving. She felt a real pang of regret.

The city seemed to grow ever larger as they could see more of it and, behind it, loomed Grouse Mountain with the summit illuminated around the ski slopes.

Container ships were moored out in the bay and Rian was navigating with care. He had a plan to get them away and refuel at Gibsons, rather than Horseshoe Bay, in case anyone went looking for them there. He realized now he should have picked some other place to say they were meeting Reverend Schneider, like New Westminster, or something, someplace where they had absolutely no intention of going to.

He wasn’t exactly sure how far they could go on half a tank of fuel, but as long as they kept it slow, at least forty, fifty ks – enough to get some place. The question was, did they head south to Mexico or go north up the Georgia Strait to Alaska? Which was the better hiding place?

They’d been debating that little problem as they ate.

Renée wanted south. Part of Rian wanted that too, but without documentation they’d soon be in trouble with the US Coastguard, whom they knew could board them anytime when they were in US waters. They could try sailing further out in the Pacific, but Rian looked at the map and that still meant sailing across to Vancouver Island and then through the Juan de Fuca Strait to the open waters of the ocean. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to do that, considering they’d be out of fuel and they’d actually have to sail the yacht. He’d never sailed anything longer than a five metre sailboat and this whole yacht thing was something else.

Hiding in the islands was a better bet. They could do odd jobs on Salt Spring or Galiano, change the name of the boat, stay there someplace and make some kind of life for themselves. Hundreds of hippies did it every year and they survived OK. That was the plan so far, aside from buying fuel with their remaining money.

Renée was tapping the barometer and frowning. ‘My father always said you had to check the weather before you ever went out on the open water.’ The little hand moved at least five degrees towards ‘unsettled’. That probably wasn’t good.

‘You mean my father,’ Rian commented.

‘Clearly neither of you ever listened,’ Genie said, ‘since we never checked anything. He said something about the weather changing, didn’t he? You even know how to read a barometer?’

Genie was looking at the device stuck on the wall. It dropped another five per cent when she tapped it.

‘What does “severe depression” actually mean? We gotta take aspirin or something?’

Renée laughed but Rian wasn’t smiling.

‘It says that?’

‘Yeah.’

Rian looked at the dark sky. Some clouds were building over the coast and the wind had picked up, but he couldn’t see anything that looked real bad. He figured that as long as you could see stars it was OK.

‘Could be faulty,’ he stated, but they could hear the doubt in his voice.

‘Severe depression sounds like sinking. You know, whirlpools that suck you down and …’ Renée suggested, but kind of tailed off when she got a look from Genie that wasn’t too friendly.

‘I don’t think we’re going get tidal waves or anything,’ Rian said. ‘But make sure stuff is put away so it doesn’t fly around, get your lifejackets on and maybe we should head closer into shore. Mouch, stop trying to take your jacket off, OK?’

Genie had tied a rope around his middle and threaded his front legs through the lifejacket. He was not happy, but looked cute. The dog gave him a look. He hated this thing they had tied on him.

Genie and Renée came up on deck to put on their lifejackets. The water looked calm, but then again it was dark – what did they know.

‘It’s probably broken, you’re right, Ri.’

‘Don’t go too close in-shore, there’s rocks, right?’ Renée said.

‘Any rocks would have a buoy on them with a light.’ Rian reassured them.

‘We got a chart at least? I saw
Pirates of the Caribbean
about ten times and they had charts,’ Renée added.

‘I don’t think they had charts. They had a magical compass that didn’t really work,’ Rian contradicted her. ‘We aren’t exactly in pirate waters, Renée, and if I remember, Jack Sparrow had no idea where he was most of the time.’

‘Just like us,’ Genie chipped in.

‘Do we even have a compass?’ Renée asked.

Rian pointed at it and the instrument panel.

‘We’re doing seven knots, bearing north-west five degrees. Well, we should be, I can’t quite see in the dark.’

‘Great.’

Genie jumped down into the cabin, disturbing Mouch, was still trying to bite off the strap holding on the lifejacket.

‘I’m going to make cocoa. Who wants cocoa?’

Rian and Renée both looked at each other and laughed.

‘We do,’ Renée shouted down. ‘Yay, hot cocoa.’

They drank from plastic mugs and watched the sky. The clouds were definitely building. The boat was beginning to heave up and down as the swell grew. Rian figured that Gibsons had to be about an hour and half away. He wanted to sneak in unobserved. It was late now, most likely impossible to get refuelled at this hour.

Mouch clung to the cabin deck like he was glued to it. Renée was looking into her empty mug. She looked up at Genie momentarily.

‘You think Cary is cute?’

‘Cary? Cary probably being held prisoner by the Fortress, Cary?’

‘I was thinking about him, that’s all. He’s shy but he’s kinda cute.’

Genie shrugged. ‘He’s short-sighted.’

‘Not any more, remember? They fixed that.’

‘He’s weird,’ Rian said.

‘I wasn’t talking to you. Steer, Rian Tulane.’

‘Excuse me for having an opinion,’ Rian said, altering course some.

‘He’s bright. He sees life in numbers,’ Genie said. ‘I’m not sure he’s got a sense of humour though.’

‘Well, maybe not, but perhaps he never had much to laugh about.’

Genie frowned. ‘Weren’t you supposed to be thinking about a plan? Like what we’re going to do with our lives once we get where we’re going?’

‘Oh yeah, that’s going to be so thrilling,’ Renée sighed. ‘No high-school certificate, minimum wage – hell, everyone I know is like that and on social security all winter. I was hoping for more.’

Genie took her hand and held it. ‘You’ll get more. Things will work out. You’ll see.’

‘Oh sure, we’ll become supermodels, fly across the world and spew our dinners up every night. That was my other plan.’

Genie laughed. ‘You’re beautiful, Renée. Maybe not that beautiful, but beautiful. You could be an actress. You ever done any acting?’

‘Does lying to my ma count?’

‘Hell, yeah.’

‘Well, in that case, I am Oscar material. But you’ve got Rian. He’s always going to take care of you. Who’ll take care of me?’

‘Well, me,’ Rian said. ‘I am your brother, remember.’

‘And you, you have to take care of you,’ Genie told her. ‘That’s what Marshall said, you have to take care of number one. Care about yourself and people will care about you.’

‘You believe a guy with one leg who lives all alone? You need a better guru.’

‘He’s not wrong.’

Genie yawned. She climbed up on a bunk bed. ‘I have to sleep. God, like I got to sleep now.’ She clung to her bunk as if it was going to tip over and felt her head was swimming. It was one thing feeling tired but this was ridiculous.

‘Tired,’ Genie mumbled and she knew Renée was still talking to her but she heard nothing.

Renée stared, amazed Genie could go out like that. Like someone flipped a switch.

She went up on deck to join Rian.

‘She’s sleeping.’

Rian nodded. He looked at her and the bruise on her head. ‘You OK?’

Renée smiled. ‘Yeah.’ She looked out over the water and saw virtually nothing – no lights and no ships. It was if they were in the middle of nowhere.

‘What’s up?’

‘Getting colder and the clouds have moved in. Wind’s changed direction too. According to the GPS thing we’re about an hour and some from Gibsons. Water should be calm but it’s getting rougher. It’s your fault, you should never have touched the barometer.’

Renée was about to protest when she saw the traces of a smile on his lips. ‘That’s a sailing joke, right?’

‘Did you tie stuff down? It’s going to get rough.’

‘Pretty much. I can’t believe how dark and cold it is now. Like we’re in the
Twilight Zone
or something. Look, I can see my breath.’ She exhaled and a frosty cloud lay between them.