What Have You Done(64)
Sirens. Louder now.
Liam carefully walked onto the slip that held Sean’s boat. The platform rocked up and down as he inched his way forward, whimpering, willing himself to move faster. He stepped onto the back of the boat and climbed aboard, quickly running around, unsnapping the cover and throwing it into the water. He knew Sean kept a spare set of keys in a locked cubby above the steering wheel. He couldn’t afford to get caught. Not now. This was the only way.
It took three shots with the butt of the flare gun to crack the plastic covering over the cubby. He grabbed the keys, pushed them into the ignition, and turned it on. The motor was out of the water. He pressed the button he’d watched Sean press so many times before and waited for the motor to lower itself down. His breathing was heavy and short. The boat rocked as the deck had done, lifted by his shifting weight and the swells in the current.
Four police cruisers pulled up onto the dock as people continued to scurry for cover. The officers spilled from each unit, weapons drawn, aimed at their suspect.
“Stop right there, and turn off the engine,” a voice boomed from one of the patrol car’s loudspeakers. “Place your hands above your head, and interlock your fingers. Do it!”
The blades of the rotor were just touching the surface of the water. Liam slipped on the life jacket that was next to the steering wheel and looked behind him. Two of the officers were making their way toward the slip. There was no time left. He started the engine and pushed the throttle forward, launching the boat, full speed, into the Delaware River as the side cleats popped under the thrust of the vessel that was still tied to the dock. He turned around and saw the officers running back toward their cars. They would call this in, and the police would launch their own marine unit along with a Coast Guard backup. He needed to use every second he could to his advantage.
His grip on the boat’s chrome wheel slipped as he turned the boat east toward New Jersey. He was actually out on the water, the one place that frightened him the most. His knees would not hold him for long, as he was growing weaker with each passing moment.
The flashing lights from the dock grew smaller with distance. There was movement in his periphery, and Liam turned to see what it was. A helicopter, still nothing more than a dot in the sky, was heading straight for him. The boat bounced in and out of the water as he pushed the throttle even harder, slamming against the choppy surface. The helicopter was gaining on him. He could hear the rotor blades thumping as it closed in on its target. He weaved his way around other vessels as best he could. The other boats were moving both with and against him in the channel. The echo of their air horns momentarily drowned out the helicopter that was in pursuit.
“Come on!” Liam shouted aloud. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest.
He pulled the boat slightly north and could see a massive barge heading toward him, just under the Ben Franklin Bridge. The helicopter was very close now, almost on top of him. Without thinking through what he was doing, Liam pushed the throttle the rest of the way forward and steered the boat toward the barge.
“You can do this. You can do this.”
The barge was about three hundred yards away. He aimed the bow toward the side of it. The coastline of New Jersey was right next to him now as he tightened his angle and pulled back on the throttle. He eased the boat as close to the barge as he could, then pointed it north.
“You can do this. You can do this.”
The helicopter was practically on top of him. If he could make it to the bridge, it would have to peel back, fly over the bridge, and pick him back up on the other side. That was what he was counting on. This was it. Now or never.
As the shadow of the Ben Franklin caught the front end of the boat, Liam passed the massive barge. He let go of the steering wheel, stepped to the edge, and stared into the black water, knowing what he had to do to survive but unable to get his body moving. His bottom lip began to tremble as he held his breath and jumped. The river finally had him.
The water was ice on his skin. He broke the surface and for a moment could see Sean’s boat bumping up against the side of the barge as the two vessels passed each other. It was still heading north, this time without him. Suddenly, he was sucked back under, but he bounced up again with the help of his life jacket. His body turned numb almost instantly, the current sweeping him south with a ferocity he hadn’t been expecting.
“Oh my God! Oh my God!” he panted, panic overtaking him.
Arms that felt like logs began to slap at the surface as the survival instinct took over. The water was so cold. He started to gain control of himself as the current continued to try to take him out to sea. He fought with every ounce of energy he had as he began swimming closer toward the shore. Although the cover of the bridge still protected him, the current would sweep him out in a matter of seconds. He swallowed the cold black water as he tried to swim. Part of him wanted to stop paddling, take off the life jacket, and allow himself to sink. His mind began to fog over, and he wondered if hypothermia was already setting in. He heard his mother’s voice.
We’re going to visit your father. One happy family.
Liam’s foot got tangled in a fallen tree that stretched out from the bank of the river. This stopped his momentum and spun him around, allowing him something solid to grab on to. He struggled with all the strength he had and climbed atop the trunk, first throwing one foot over, then hoisting himself up around the rest of it. He cried out in both pain and fear until he was finally out of the water and on the tree. His body shivered uncontrollably. Across the way and south from where he now sat, he could see emergency lights flickering at the dock. He could hear the helicopter but could no longer see it from where he was under the bridge. The boat that had saved him grew smaller as it continued north in a current that pushed it around. There was no time to rest. It wouldn’t be long before either the helicopter or the marine units figured out the boat was empty. In situations such as these, it would be protocol to send the helicopter back around to retrace where he was last seen, which would be at the base of the bridge. Some of the men might board the barge to see if he had stowed away, but most would track him from the area he now sat at, catching breaths that came in harsh, raspy waves. They’d track both on foot and from overhead. They’d use dogs. He had to keep moving. He had to get to Lakewood.