Tsunami Blue (6 page)

I was being jerked up by the arm as Gabriel unlocked the cuffs.

“Hang on, Blue. I’ll get you out of this.”

I wanted to tell him I didn’t need saving. I wanted to tell him I wasn’t a damsel in distress. But I did, and I was. And right now there was nothing to be done for it.

He pushed me into the front of my kayak, handed me a paddle, and pushed the boat off with his foot. I hooked the surf and, with an expertise honed by years of repetition, I turned the boat out to sea. I looked over my shoulder just in time to see Gabriel kneel and snap Raspy Voice’s neck. My stomach lurched, and I saw Max wading into the surf.

I had no intention of leaving my dog behind. Never had. I whistled and paddled the boat parallel along the shore. I paddled in, rubbing the bottom of the boat against underwater pebbles. I glanced at the approaching army of men and dogs, now way too close. The blare of sirens and shouts and barks was deafening, and I frantically grabbed for Max.

But I’d been concentrating on the wrong threat. So consumed with injured Max, I’d forgotten about Gabriel Black, the biggest threat of all.

 Gabriel jumped into the back of my tiny boat, settling into the second seat like it was made for him. He whistled for Max, who went willingly. I couldn’t help feeling Max was a lamb being led to slaughter. This boat was made for two. Only two. Three would be nearly impossible. In seas like this, it was suicide to attempt it. Gabriel Black had to go.

Gabriel reached for Max, grabbing him by his collar. The frayed series of old knots stretched and Max slipped out of his collar darting toward me. I reached out for my dog, only to hear Gabriel command him back. I watched as Gabriel bent his head to the dog as if communicating. Somehow, Max calmed.

“Now go.” Gabriel boomed the order, and Max turned and ran to the shore, ran into the waiting danger, not away from it.

“Max, no!” I cried out. “Come.” Max paused, looked at me, and whined that signature whine of his, and my heart broke.

“Go.” Gabriel had the last word as Max, with a final look toward me, ran from the shore straight into the oncoming danger. A dozen or more Runner dogs broke rank and raced to meet him.

Gabriel pushed off with his foot, and with a forceful thrust he sent us into the surf and swells, gliding into the sea.

Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as I lost sight of Max when we dipped into a swell.

“You bastard, that was
my
dog,” I turned and screamed at Gabriel. I raised my paddle in anger and he caught it easily, twisting it from my wrist like it was a toothpick.

He pushed the paddle into the angry gray waters and we forged ahead toward the ketch rig and safety. Safety for us, but not for Max.

I struggled to see the shore, but the waves and swells blocked my view. I glared at Gabriel. If I didn’t hate him before, I sure hated him now.

“My dog!” I yelled, not ashamed of my tears. “You’ve just killed my dog, you Runner scum.”

Gabriel Black dug the paddle toward the port side of the boat, hitting the waters with force and purpose. He looked at me with sadness in his eyes.

“Not your dog, Blue.
My
dog. I left him behind five years ago when I first found you.”

Chapter Six

I hung on while Gabriel used his strength to paddle and fight our way through an unwilling sea. Waves washed over the bow of my little boat, soaking both of us, weighing us down, making our journey hard and dangerous, almost impossible.

Almost.

At last, we smashed into the black hull of Gabriel’s boat, and okay, I had to admit, it did look bigger close up. Maybe he didn’t deserve the “little” comment, but now, after Max? Hell. He deserved a lot more.

Gabriel grabbed a line he’d stowed in the shell of my kayak and knelt on the deck, reaching up to loop it on a cleat. The water was too choppy to tie it off, and I heard the sea laugh as it tossed and bounced us like a cork. Gabriel managed to grab the stanchions and hoist himself up and over, landing safely on his teak deck. And now it was my turn.

Pulling the boat alongside, he straddled the stanchions and reached down for the front of my coat collar, plucking me out of my boat like I was no more than an errant feather. I went airborne, flying over the steel stanchions and into Gabriel’s arms. He lost his balance and almost dropped me. I saw a glint of silver as the handcuffs flew overboard when his coat pocket caught on a stanchion and ripped away. He crashed hard on the deck, flat on his back. I landed on top of him.  

My forehead slammed into his for what had to be a record-breaking head butt. Pain shot through my skull when I tried to raise my head, and I saw white spots and blue stars. I laid my head down on his broad chest and had a déjà vu moment.

The thundering of his heartbeat became overwhelmed by the thundering of his voice. “Damn it, Blue. Why is everything with you so hard?”

I moaned. “Why is everything with you so painful?”

I raised my head, glaring into those black eyes. “Look, tough guy, it’s not like I asked for this little getaway cruise. And I can’t help it that your sea legs aren’t working. You pretty much suck as a pirate, you know it? If I were you, I’d stick to being a cabin boy.”

“Cabin boy?”

The look on his face was worth the insult. He rubbed his forehead, where a red welt was rising, and I saw the line that held my kayak slip through his fingers and slide from the cleat. We both realized it too late. The sea offered up a swell and the line disappeared over the rail, releasing my little boat into the raging waters. It would no doubt crash against the craggy rocks that lined the shore.

Pushing off Gabriel, I risked the light-headedness and jumped up, grabbing the stanchions to steady my spinning vision and slipping feet. I was just in time to see the tiny kayak swallowed up in angry waters. For a moment, I forgot where I was, forgot Gabriel Black, forgot the Runners on the beach; I just forgot it all.

I looked into the waves and saw my blistered fingers filled with splinters at age twelve when I built my kayak. I saw Japanese floats on a little cedar tree, standing in the corner of my cozy one-room cabin. I saw Max, pushing and shoving to get out the front door. I saw Uncle Seamus on the beach, lying dead in crimson sand. And I saw my mother, laughing in the Thai sunlight, with flowers in her hair.

Hot tears traced down my cheeks.

Gabriel closed in from behind, balancing a foot on the rail. He put his arms around me. We both watched the retreating Runners, no doubt heading to their boats moored on the other side of the island. We were safe for the moment, but pursuit would come soon.

My head swam and I sank back into that strong, broad chest, hating that I needed someone, hating that I needed him.

He nuzzled my neck and whispered in my ear, “I’m sorry about your boat, Blue. I’ll build you another one.”

That made no sense. Gabriel was a Runner with his own agenda. I was his prisoner. Build me a boat? Still, my mind was mush and I shivered, numb with cold. I thought of Max, and had a vision of him running through the surf trying to get to me. 

“Build one Max will fit in?” I whispered, not trusting the strength of my voice, knowing I sounded crazy.

“Sure, Blue. A boat big enough for Max too.”

“Max…was he really yours?”

Gabriel hugged me to him and whispered in my ear, “In the end, Blue, he was yours. He loved you. You gave him a better life than I ever could.” He pulled back from the rails and said, “Come on, little one. I’m getting us out of here. The Runners will be sailing soon.”

No one had called me
little one
since my parents died. It jolted me out of the funk and back into survivor mode. I elbowed him out of the way, not hard, not threatening; I needed to see how this boat worked before I threw him overboard. But first, I needed answers.

“Why leave Max five years ago?” I demanded. “What the hell were you doing watching me? Funny, I didn’t peg you as the peeping-Tom type. You’re more like the cuff-and-kidnap type.” I folded my arms across my chest to try to stem the shivering. 

Gabriel nodded, accepting my rejection of our warm and fuzzy moment, and stepped out of the way to let me pass. The sea was rough, and I grabbed for the stanchions as Gabriel pushed the hatch open and motioned me down.

“Not now, Blue. You’re freezing. And we have to move fast. Question-and-answer period is over.”

He gave me that dark look of his which told me any more probing would be useless. Great.

“Grab a blanket downstairs and try to stay warm while I get us out of here. If all goes well, I’ll have us stowed, stashed, and hidden by nightfall.”

Gabriel was right: I was freezing. Still… “I’ll stay on deck,” I said. As much as a dry blanket sounded tempting, I needed to see where we were going, where he was taking me. I wouldn’t be blinded by hiding in the hull. I needed to plan for the future. I needed a plan for escape. As if reading my mind, Gabriel paused in his preparation and gave me a steady look.

“There is no escape. The ocean will simply eat you up. And if not the ocean, the sharks will.”

“And wait, don’t tell me. The bogeyman will get me too.”

Gabriel came over and looked me in the eyes. “Don’t be so sure I’m not the bogeyman, Blue.”

Okay. That shut me up.

“I’m hoisting the sails,” he said. “Watch the boom. I don’t want to have to fish you out of the ocean, strip you naked, and save you from hypothermia.”

I rolled my eyes and sat down in the cockpit, shivering. Wrapping my arms around my chest, hugging myself for warmth, I settled in to watch Gabriel work. I hated to admit it, but just watching him move and stretch and bend over to grab a line here and there…well, hell, the man
was
gorgeous. And I knew what was under those wet clothes. And even though I hated him—right?—I couldn’t help it. I started to warm up.

He’d stripped off his coat and I could see his muscles working under that fitted thermal shirt he wore. Gabriel and his boat moved as one. He anticipated the boat’s every move with uncanny ability. His movements were fluid, graceful, efficient. His black hair whipped in the wind, and when Gabriel took the wheel, he looked every inch the pirate. Or at the least, a very dangerous, sexy cabin boy. He had us under way in minutes.

The wind picked up and the sleek boat with the slender hull cut through the water, making its own path in rugged, unforgiving waves. I found the speed exhilarating; I’d never been on a boat like this before. But I’d seen them on the horizon, dreamed about where they were heading, fantasized about stowing away on one, sailing away from the waves and the cold and the loneliness.

“Grab the wheel, Blue. Stay north. I’m going below.”

Before I could protest, Gabriel stepped over my head and disappeared into the cabin below. Panicked, I stood, grabbed the helm, and kept the boat on its northern heading. True north. Gabriel had a compass mounted, but I didn’t need it. When you grow up predicting waves, tsunami waves, you get pretty damn good at directions.

Wind whipped through my hair, salt spray stung my cheeks, and I was frozen to the bone.

I
loved
every minute of it.

I tasted freedom for the first time in so many years. I saw the possibilities written on the waves. A boat like this could take me away from my islands, could take me to another part of the world entirely. I could search for a better place in this world, a place without waves and Runners and death all around. I could broadcast along the way, reading waves, saving lives, searching for more survivors, for kids. I could go back for Max. And of course there was…Finn.
Finnegan
. I could search for him. It was a search my heart would never let me stop.

The damn tears sprang into my eyes once more. Yeah, I’d had a rough day, but the tears had to stop.
A sure sign of weakness, Blue
, my uncle would have said.
The cat will have a heyday with you actin’ like a mouse
. Still, I hadn’t let myself think of my brother in those terms for years. “Those terms” meaning that he could be…that is, maybe, or perhaps…still alive. Logically I knew it wasn’t possible. Logically I knew I was kidding myself. I’d seen the wave sweep under his feet, raise him up and up, then swallow him, snatching him from my sight. But if the wave saved me…?

 “Stop it, Blue, just stop,” I admonished myself as I pounded the wheel. I knew better. Unlike my parents’, his body was never found. Just like thousands and thousands of others. Still, something was happening to me as I gripped the wheel of this sleek, fast, and so very cool sailboat.

For the first time in years, I felt hope. 

And Gabriel Black, the Runner, my captor, my bunk buddy, my sometime savior, my tough guy, and the father of Max, was going to help me keep it.

I’d just formulated a new plan. I was going to steal this boat.

Chapter Seven

Darkness had fallen and I leaned over the stern of the boat, watching the phosphorus play and dance in our wake. Beautiful colors swirled and flashed in the now black sea. I’d seen the phenomenon before, but never on this level, and I was like a little kid, complete with uttered
oohs
and
ahs
. I knew Gabriel got a kick out of my reaction because I could hear him chuckling behind me.

But I didn’t care. I’d been laughed at all my life. It rolled off my shoulders as easily as rain.

I clutched the blanket firmly around me; Gabriel had brought it up from below hours ago, along with a steaming mug of hot herbal tea and salmon jerky. I wasn’t too proud to eat or drink. I needed strength. After all, I was slight in stature and I lost body heat easily. Sure, I’d take what he was offering. Up to a point.

The Runners had been lost in our dust—or wake, as it was. Gabriel’s boat was beyond fast, and with the winds at peak performance, and a hull designed for speed, we’d buried the rail and the Runners didn’t stand a chance. I’d caught sight of them only once, and then they were a mere dot on the horizon.

We were safe. For now.

But really, how safe was I with Gabriel and his hidden agenda? Who was Indigo? And why did he want me? And how in the hell had a sailor as capable as Gabriel Black ended up near death on my beach? I needed answers. And somewhere on this boat, I’d find them.

I had yet to go below. I focused on where we were going and how this boat worked. Thanks to Uncle Seamus, I could navigate by the stars, and I knew we were heading north, into the New Canadian Gulf Islands. Since the age of five, I’d never been anywhere other than my own small string of islands, what was left of the “old” San Juans in what was once Washington State. Now there were no states, just islands. Thousands and thousands and thousands of islands.

“Watch your head, Blue. We’re coming about.”

Coming about? As in changing direction? Heading back toward the Runners? My heart started to pound. Why? What game were we playing now?

I ducked as the boom swung to the opposite side of the boat and watched as Gabriel trimmed the sails.

“What’s happening? Why are we heading back?”

“Not back. Over.”

He pointed into darkness and I squinted into the night, trying to see what he could.

Gabriel, seeing my confusion and sensing my fear, explained. “Tonight we drop anchor in what I call the ‘new’ False Bay. It’s similar to the bay off the west side of your island. That is, the False Bay that used to be there.”

I nodded, remembering well the hidden beach I played on as a kid. The bay and the beach were long gone, swallowed up by a killer wave.

“We’re close to New Vancouver,” he continued. “It’s about a twenty-four-hour sail from here. I’m entering this bay on a high tide. By morning a minus tide will set in, and the bay will look like nothing but miles and miles of wet beach. That’s why I call it False Bay. No one can approach. Plus we’ll be hidden in a tiny cove, with deeper moorage.” He sighed and pushed a dark lock from his face. “Safe haven, Blue. Not for long, but at least for the night.”

Beach? My mind raced. I could do beach. I could walk on beach, run on beach, fight on beach. The beach worked for me on so many levels. I could lure Gabriel off the boat, get him to chase me—

Again, Gabriel read my mind.

“Don’t even think about it, Blue.”

“Think about what, Kreskin?”

Gabriel shook his head. “About escaping onto the sand. It’s linked with tide pools, some deep, some shallow, and all filled with box jellies.”

I had nothing to say to that. But the jellies? I could do jellies. Box jellyfish were laced with a poison so powerful their tiny tentacles could cause paralysis in minutes, death in under an hour. Years ago their presence in these waters was unheard-of. But that was before the waves. Now our Northwest waters were home to all kinds of monsters, including—and I gave an involuntary shudder—great whites.

But tonight I dealt with just jellyfish, albeit box jellyfish. I had my badass rubber boots on. Jellies couldn’t begin to penetrate them. That alone boosted my confidence. My ego kicked in. I was raised around the water. Tide pools? I wasn’t afraid of no stinkin’ tide pools. Bring it.

“The tide pools…” Gabriel continued.

Oh, boy
, I thought,
here it comes
.

“Well, the sand has changed. In this bay, it’s quicksand. Once you’re stuck, trust me, babe, you’re stuck.”

Babe? What the…? I wouldn’t think about that now. I knitted my brows and thought about the pools. Quicksand, huh? Well, that just didn’t sound good. That is, if I believed him. I’d wait and see what daybreak revealed.

“Believe it, Blue. Wait and see for yourself, in the morning.”

Damn.
Maybe he was a mind reader.

A few minutes later Gabriel maneuvered the sailboat into a tiny cove. I could see the shadows on the water of crooked madrona trunks from the shore as they twisted into the moonlit sky. The wind had died down to just a whisper, and a soft rain started to fall. Time to go below. And didn’t that just bring a whole new set of circumstances to worry about.

“Time to get below, Blue.”

Damn it.
I wished he’d stop doing that. It was beginning to freak me out.

I huddled in the blanket, watching him stow and stash, as he’d promised. With the boat and sails secure he approached, and I trembled with anticipation.
What now, Blue? What now?

Gabriel pushed the hatch back and went below. Moments later a soft glow filtered up to the deck, and he stuck his head out, offering a hand. “Come on, I know you’re hungry. You’re freezing. You’re”—he lowered his voice—“you’re scared.” I glared at him. “And for that,” he continued, “I’m sorry.”

I thought about my tiny home, my little boat, about Max and the Runners. I thought about the voice of Tsunami Blue, now silenced, maybe forever. I rose, not feeling I had any choice in the matter. What good would it do to freeze and starve? I needed my strength. I needed time for my plan. I reached for his hand. “Not sorry enough, tough guy.”

I stepped down into a teak wonderland.

Gabriel’s boat may not have been the biggest on the water, but it had to be the cleanest, the coziest. The lanterns cast a warm hue over the highly polished wood, and the small stove radiated blessed heat. I smelled cinnamon and herbs and a pleasant musk that was pure Gabriel Black.

I looked around, astounded by the order and neatness. Who knew a Runner lived any other way than like a barbarian? Where were the gnawed chicken bones, the tobacco butts, the severed arms and legs?

Instead, there were shelves of books, lots of books, and carefully labeled jars of herbs and maps and—

“You need to get out of those wet clothes, Blue. You’ve been in them for hours.” I didn’t move. He looked at me and shook his head. “Stubborn to the core, that’s what you are.”

“Well, forgive me if I take offense, but I haven’t been down here for more than, what, two minutes? And already you’re talking me out of my clothes.” I wrapped the blanket tighter.

“Look—”

“Don’t ‘look’ me, Gabriel. Damn you. Take off my clothes, huh? Whatever happened to dinner and a movie?”

He laughed. It was warm, rich, unassuming, and I swear, it must have been contagious, because I laughed too, in spite of myself. We both knew there hadn’t been movies for well over a decade, and dinner? Pretty much grilled salmon, barbecued salmon, smoked salmon, salmon jerky, and on it went. Reservations and candlelight? No way. Chance of us “dating”? Double no way.

He took two strides and approached, reaching for me. I flinched and backed away from his touch. Old habits again. He withdrew his hand and I bit my lower lip, trying to stop the trembling. He was too close. I felt crowded, scared, confused. And I hated it.

“What do you want with me?” I whispered. “I have a right to know.”

“In time,” he replied softly. “I mean you no harm—”

“No harm?” My temper flared, and I let the blanket drop to the wooden floor.

I shoved my bruised and battered wrist in his face to show him where the cuff had made its mark. “No harm?” I pulled the neck of my thermal top down and showed him the fingerprints he left on my neck. “No harm?” I didn’t stop there. In blind anger I pulled the shirt up, revealing my pink bra and the ugly purple-and-blue patch over my ribs, where they had taken a beating bouncing over his shoulder. The bruise looked neon against my pale skin. “No harm?”

He looked at my midriff and closed the space between us, catching my wrist with one hand and circling my waist, pulling me into him with the other. My hand flattened against his chest, and he was so close I couldn’t breathe.

 In the warm cabin light, with shadows that fell on his beautiful features, I thought again of dark angels and flesh pressed against flesh. Our flesh. Anger melted, and that strange sensation I’d felt the night I slept next to him returned low in my belly, and I felt my pulse race and my breath become shallow.

He pressed my wrist to his lips, and with soft a kiss, he dropped my hand and gently touched my exposed skin with both his hands. I gasped as he ran his fingertips over the damaged area, skimming the bottom of my breasts with his thumbs as he pushed up under my bra.

“Blue”—he looked into my eyes with that dark gaze of his—“please believe me when I tell you how sorry I am.” I read raw hunger in his eyes. His thumbs rubbed back and forth, pushing further under my bra. For a moment, for a heartbeat or two, time stopped.

And then the fear kicked in.

He was a Runner. Runners raped. Runners killed. Runners were not gentle, they were not sorry, and they did not care. Not ever.

I used all my strength to push him back. And just like that he let me. My shirt fell back in place, and I trembled from cold and nerves and something else I didn’t want to think about. Gabriel ran his hand through his long black hair in frustration. It was a moment before either one of us spoke.

“Go change, Blue.” He pointed to the bow of the boat, where I could see a bunk and not much else. “Please. I’ve laid some clothes out for you on the V-berth. The door slides shut. It won’t lock, but you have my word I won’t come in. Just please get warm. I hate seeing you this way. I hate”—he paused and took a breath—“I hate what I’ve done to you.”

I read the sadness in his eyes, the conflict. As if he were in a struggle within himself. How could I fight when I didn’t know what I was fighting? Why was I here? It was a mystery, one I had to solve, but for now he was also right: I had to get out of these clothes. I felt sick with the cold and the damp.

Walking past him to the bow of the boat, I reached the V-berth, the bunk, stepped in, and slid the teak door closed behind me. I breathed in the familiar scent of the sea and leaned against the smooth, warm wood and tried like hell to calm my nerves.

There on the bed were clothes carefully laid out like I was an expected guest. I looked closely at them, touching and caressing each piece in wonder.

There were black jeans, like his, stonewashed and soft. There were cargo pants and two long-sleeved thermals, pretty in cream and cornflower blue. The underwear, black panties and bras, were my size exactly. A fisherman’s sweater of soft wool hung on a hook, a women’s size with a large cable-knit pattern. And there were pajamas, cloud-soft flannel. The matching tank top and short bottoms were decorated with tiny dragonflies and Asian coins for a pattern. I’d never owned anything as extravagant as pajamas before; at least, not since I was five years old.

Lying on this little bunk were more new clothes than I ever remembered owning all at one time. Where? And how? New Seattle? Not possible. The malls were underwater; nothing this nice could have survived. Then where? I thought of Gabriel’s sun-kissed skin, and I remembered my first impression:
Not from around here.

I stripped off my clothes, slipped on the silky underwear, and climbed into the black jeans. They fit perfectly, hugging my body like an old friend.

I marveled that I actually had a choice of clothing. I chose the cream thermal and fisherman’s sweater. Oversize, it hung to my knees, and the sleeves covered my hands to the knuckles. It felt warm and cozy and welcoming. I loved it. But what I really wanted to wear were the pajamas. I couldn’t help handling them, rubbing them against my cheek, smelling the newness of them. But when, if ever, I’d wear them with Gabriel so close…well, for now it wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t.

I smelled a heavenly aroma coming from the cabin and my mouth watered with hunger. Time to face Gabriel. And then what? Thank him for the clothes? Thank him for planning ahead, for knowing my size? That was creepy on so many levels. I had so many questions. But would he answer them? And if he did, would there be any truth in his words?

I turned to leave when I saw a small mirror hanging flush on the door. Standing on tiptoe I peeked at my reflection. I looked at the dark circles under my eyes, the paleness of my skin, and the tangled mess of my hair. I looked at the lump on my forehead that matched Gabriel’s goose egg perfectly. A shadow of a smile passed over my face as I touched the painful spot. Guess both of us were pretty hardheaded. As bone-weary fatigue crept into every part of my body, I knew no amount of new clothes would help sort out the mess I was in. Sighing, I put my hands on the door and got ready to slide it open.

Taking a deep breath I prayed
. Please, God, just get me through this night. Let Gabriel Black be different from all the rest of the Runners out there. Let me rest. Let me sleep. Let me regain my strength. And please, please, let me live through this night.