CHAPTER 61

As soon as they heard the helicopter overhead Joe Black came pounding down the steps.

“What the hell did you do, Walter?”

They hadn’t been able to untie the rope yet from Walter’s feet. He couldn’t stand up without immediately losing his balance but he swung a fist at his surprised captor, hitting Joe in the face. Charlotte scrambled to her feet, her swollen ankle making her hop as she tried to land a blow. Then the boat heaved and sent them all crashing to the deck.

When the boat steadied, Joe had Charlotte by the back of her collar and his snub-nose revolver pointed at Walter’s chest.

“I knew I should have killed you both. I just didn’t want you stinking up my boat by the time I got to Biloxi.”

He pushed Charlotte down onto the floor next to Walter. Then he stood over them, glancing at the steps. Walter could see he was anxious to get back up.

If the helicopter didn’t see any signs of distress, would they risk sending someone down? And dear God, Walter silently prayed, please don’t let it be Liz. He hoped she was already on her way to Jacksonville and this was another crew left behind for a last-minute search.

“I haven’t ruled out shooting you both,” Joe was telling them. He set his feet apart and braced one hand on the wall to steady himself while the boat rocked and climbed again. “I just hate using a gun or a knife. Damages too much tissue. There’s nothing worse than a cooler full of damaged goods.”

He was ranting, and Walter wondered if his internal check-and-balance system had cracked under the stress. Madmen were dangerous. Was it too late or could he get through to the kid?

Walter pressed a hand against the wall, and tried lifting himself up to his feet.

“Just stay put, Walter, or I’ll shoot you in the hand. I’ve got plenty hands. Once they figured out how to repair carpal tunnel, hands as a commodity went bust.”

“It’s over, Phillip Norris’s son,” Walter said, deliberately using his father’s name.

Walter watched Joe’s eyes. He wanted to bring back the boy who enjoyed Coney Island hot dogs. He was certain that if he could do that, they would be safe. He wasn’t prepared for Joe’s response.

Joe aimed the gun, pulled back the trigger, and Walter’s left hand exploded.