Hell Rig (14 page)

The fog grew increasingly denser. The platform became a metal island in a gray, swirling sea of mist that seemed to erupt from the sea like billows of smoke. The water surrounding the platform became unnaturally still, almost motionless, as if covered with an invisible oil slick. It was a dark mirror reflecting only more darkness. The sun disappeared, swallowed by the rapidly encroaching fog.

“The only thing left is the cellar deck,” Ed said as they stood around on the main deck. “He could be hiding anywhere in there amid that jungle of pipes and pumps. It’s almost dark and there are no lights down there.” He looked at McAndrews and the others. “I think the bastard’s dangerous, even more dangerous if we split up to search for him. I say we lock ourselves in until morning. He’ll be easier to find in the daylight.”

To Jeff, it seemed the logical thing to do. “I agree. Someone should stay on watch just in case,” he said.

No one protested. Prowling the bowels of the cellar deck, wading through knee deep cold water with a possible psychopath on the prowl did not sound like much fun to any of them. As they returned to the main building, they found Sims coming up the stairs from below.

“Where the hell have you been?” Jeff growled at him.

Sims shot him a pained expression. “Why, I’ve been on the cellar deck looking for Waters, like you. I heard you guys talking about him.”

“Alone? Weren’t you afraid he might jump you?”

He smiled. “Nothing down there but shadows,” Sims said, then turned and walked inside the building.

Jeff shook his head. “Crazy bastard.”

“Gives me the creeps worse than Waters,” Tolson added. “I’m keeping my eye on him.”

They locked and boarded the two main entrances to their wing of the building. The side door near their rooms was too warped to lock. They boarded it up with plywood as they had the broken windows and reinforced it with two by four cross members. Jeff was surprised when Sims helped. They made one more sweep of the building, even checking the now functioning cooler. Bale’s plastic wrapped body still lay on the floor beside the five-gallon bucket with the dismembered arm. Satisfied Waters was not in the building, they settled down for the night.

Jeff smiled when Lisa volunteered to cook.

“Not because it’s my place as a woman,” she shot an annoyed look at him, “but because I’ve tasted you men’s results. I prefer not to die by slow poisoning.”

Jeff watched her gather the supplies. She moved methodically and economically, as if she was used to cooking. At her insistence, he helped her bring the grill in from outside and set it up in the kitchen directly beneath an exhaust hood. Perplexed by her choice, he asked her.

“Why not use the cook top? It runs on gas and the tank’s not empty.”

She looked aghast at his suggestion. “Are you kidding? Use something from here.” She waved her arms around the kitchen. “I couldn’t.”

“We scrubbed down and sanitized everything,” he reminded her. It had taken hours of backbreaking work. “If we turn the power back on, it’s fully operational.”

She shook her head. “No. I won’t. It would be…sacrilegious.”

“Sacrilegious? It’s just a damn stove,” he insisted.

Lisa slammed a can of vegetables onto the counter. “If you want to use it, you cook.”

Caught off guard by her vehemence, Jeff backed away. “Okay. Do it your way.”

“Thank you,” she replied coldly and turned her back on him.

He checked on Gleason and found McAndrews in the room.

“How is he?”

McAndrews sighed. “I don’t know. He seems okay. Pulse and respiration are normal, but he should be awake by now. I’m worried.”

“He’ll be all right,” Jeff replied, trying to reassure himself more than McAndrews. Gleason looked pale and his right eye twitch occasionally. “Besides, the ship will be here tonight sometime. We’ll get him out of here.”

“Good. I’m no doctor.”

“How about some coffee?”

McAndrews looked down at Gleason. “I might as well. I can’t do anything more for him.”

The mood in the break room was somber as Jeff poured coffee for him and McAndrews. Ed scribbled notes in his logbook. Tolson and Easton played cards, but Easton’s mind wasn’t on the game. He kept looking away and drifting off until Tolson reminded him to play a card. Sims sat across the room, chair propped back against the wall, watching everyone with a keen eye. He wore a self-satisfied expression that worried Jeff. He had no reason to suspect Sims of anything other than being obnoxious, but something about his demeanor concerned him. He did not have the bearing of a man forced out of his livelihood and working just to make a living. It was as if he was there with a purpose. Jeff wondered what that purpose was.

“I hope hunter’s stew is okay,” Lisa said entered with pot of delicious smelling beef stew, stirring it with a large ladle. Jeff quickly realized just how hungry he was. He had been so intent on sand blasting that he had skipped lunch. “The beef came from a can but I added a few canned vegetables and tomatoes and I found some spices in the kitchen.”

They had brought a case of canned goods with them—soups, stews, vegetables and canned meats—along with bread, fresh fruit and deli meats in an ice cooler. The supply ship would bring steaks, potatoes and fresh vegetables for more substantial meals. For now, they were basically camping out.

“Smells great,” Tolson said, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s eat.”

“Two more minutes,” she said. “You can get the bowls and spoons.”

“Right,” he said and got up to get them from their box.

Jeff noticed that Easton sat and stared at his cards, oblivious to everything. He had spoken very little since awakening that afternoon. He had worked woodenly, as if his mind were a million miles away. Jeff wondered if he should speak to him, but decided he might want to be alone, undoubtedly embarrassed by his actions, that didn’t account for his brooding. He was still frightened but afraid to show it to the others.

They wolfed down Lisa’s stew, much to her delight. Jeff was pleasantly surprised at her cooking prowess. Everything was canned, but it tasted homemade. Only Easton seemed unmoved by the stew, eating only a few bites and shoving his bowl aside. After the meal, Ed surprised them with cold beers.

“I salvaged a couple of six packs from the pantry. I put them in the cooler when we got it working.”

Lisa refused hers. Jeff wasn’t certain if it was because she didn’t wish to drink or because it had been so close to Bale’s dead body. He had no such qualms. The beer was cold and refreshing and drinking it brought back pleasant memories. Tolson, it seemed, shared Jeff’s enthusiasm, grabbing Lisa’s untouched beer after finishing his own. Easton sipped his slowly, refusing to speak or even look at them. Ed, Jeff, Tolson and McAndrews played a few hands of poker while Lisa read. Easton retired to his bunk and lay there with his hands folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Sims continued to sit and watch, saying nothing.

After a few hours, Ed stood, yawned and announced, “One of you young guys take first watch. The supply ship should be here sometime tonight or early in the morning. I’ll take second shift.”

Jeff volunteered. “I’ll go first. I can’t sleep anyway.”

“We start early in the morning,” Ed warned as he walked out of the room toward his room. “Get some sleep.”

“I’ll check on Gleason again,” McAndrews said and left behind Ed. Sims stood and followed.

Tolson leaned back in his chair back and watched Lisa as she gathered the paper bowls and plastic utensils and bagged them for disposal. She scrubbed the pot in the bathroom sink.

“Are you going to stare at me all night?” Lisa asked Tolson.

“I could,” he said with a wink. “I like the way you move.”

She laughed. “You like my tits. Don’t lie.”

Tolson chuckled and threw up his hands. “You caught me.” He stood up. “I’m going to bed. Any takers?” He looked at Lisa.

“Not in your best fantasy,” she answered, “or my worst nightmare.”

“Oh, well,” he said. He looked at his right hand. “I guess it’s just you and me darling.”

“You disgust me,” Lisa shot at him as he left, but Jeff could see she was snickering quietly. “That guy never gives up,” she said after Tolson had left.

“He considers himself a ladies man.”

“What about you?”

He felt his cheeks go red. “I’m a little shy around women, I guess.”

She chuckled. “You’re not shy. You’re just picky.”

That surprised him. “Picky? Me?”

Lisa mocked his denial with a wide-eyed expression. “Yeah, you. You act like you love making the club rounds chasing young girls, but you really want a woman you can appreciate.”

“Like you?”

This time, her face turned red and she glanced away before answering. “Well, we hit it off okay I suppose. What I meant is you don’t put on a front like Tolson. He talks loud but I bet he’s not the hound dog he pretends to be.”

“I think he has a steady woman. He doesn’t talk about her much but he spends less and less time ashore with the rest of us.”

“See, I was right.”

“About him maybe,” Jeff agreed.

Lisa smiled and shook her head slowly as she walked over and sat down next to him, pressing her body disconcertingly close to his, pinning him against the side of the narrow couch. Her presence aroused him. Her hair smelled of charcoal smoke and disinfectant but it still turned him on. He wanted her badly but knew instinctively that it wasn’t the right time to make a move in spite of her seeming willingness. Things were too confused, too unsettled. She tempted him even further when she rested her hand on his leg.

“I’m frightened, Jeff,” she said.

He looked into her eyes and saw confusion. Jeff mentally cursed himself for interpreting her fear for desire. She wanted comfort and assurance, not sex. “Me, too,” he admitted.

She toyed with her Loa medallion. “I wish my grandmother was here.” She must have noticed the confusion on his face. She continued. “She always made me feel safe. She would know just what to do. I can…” She shook her head. “I can almost feel what she would do. I didn’t pay too much attention to her when I grew older, but as a child I was by her side all the time. I remember her songs, prayers really, to ward against danger. They were my lullabies growing up. She would sing me to sleep with them. I catch myself singing them now, since all this started.”

“My mother was an alcoholic,” he said, unable to keep the bitterness from coloring his voice. “Some nights she never even came to tuck me in.” He didn’t know why he admitted his secret. Few people knew, not even Ed.

Lisa patted his knee. “I’m sorry.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. He reached up and touched her hair, stroked it softly. She looked him in the eye, inviting him to kiss her. He did and was pleased when she responded. It was a long kiss, full of suggestion and promises and thoughts of the future, but both understood now was not the time to begin an affair.

She pulled back and smiled at him. “Thanks,” she whispered. “I needed that.”

“No problem at all,” he replied. “Happy to oblige.”

“I’m going to bed now,” she said, standing up and stretching. Jeff tried not to stare at her breasts as they filled out the front of her shirt. He looked down at the floor.

“See you in the morning,” he mumbled. “I’ll keep watch awhile.”

After she was gone, the room felt empty. The gentle pressure of her lips on his remained, reminding. He reached up, touched them, and smiled.

“She’s quite a woman.”

Jeff jerked around to see Sims standing by the door with a big grin on his face.

“I thought you had gone to bed,” Jeff snapped. Of everyone there, he disliked Sims witnessing what had passed between he and Lisa most.

“Not yet.” He walked in cleaning his fingernails with his knife. “She likes you, I think.”

Jeff felt uncomfortable talking about Lisa, especially with Sims. “Yeah, maybe.”

Sims stopped cleaning his nails and looked at Jeff, holding his knife in his hand. “You don’t like me much, do you?” He waved the knife, punctuating each word.

Jeff hesitated. “I don’t know you. I do know you like to drink. That’s not good on the job.”

Sims laughed and pulled out his flask. “Want a sip?”

Jeff shook his head. “No, thanks.”

Sims chuckled. “I don’t think you would like it anyway. It’s not liquor. It’s a, uh, tonic I need for my health.”

This perked Jeff’s interest. “Oh? Are you sick?”

Sims pointed the knife at Jeff, aiming down its length with one eye. “You’re trying to provoke me, aren’t you, Towns? It won’t work. I’m in a good mood.”

Jeff was disappointed Sims had caught on to his ploy so soon but jumped on Sims’ last admission. “Good mood? Here? Bale is dead and Waters is missing. Does this make you happy?”

Sims smiled and returned to cleaning his nails. “I’m alive and intend to stay that way. I don’t know any of you and I won’t stick my neck out for you. Besides, this bonus check will come in handy.”

“For a new boat?” Jeff snapped. “Just what happened to your boat, Sims?”

Sims’ face clouded. At first, Jeff thought he wasn’t going to answer. When he spoke, his voice sounded distant, as if he was reliving events in his mind.