The Side of the Yacht By Shain Knowles Published by author at Smashwords Copyright 2011 License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. The Side of the Yacht Jackson hangs from the side of the yacht coughing salt water from his lungs. Mucus and salty foam pour out with a sting through his nose. He bobs up and down, banging against the side of the boat that looms above him. This is not how he had pictured the day trip into the Gulf turning out. That morning Jackson had woken up beside Alice’s soft warm body thinking his life had turned out better then all those jocks who had teased and mocked him throughout his youth. He had a sexy girl and a great executive job that had allowed him to buy an expensive yacht to add to his collection of extravagant toys. Jackson smiled as he caressed the pale backside of the sleeping beauty that shared his bed. Alice awoke and pulled his hand around to the moist spot between her legs. She moaned. Now, spitting out sea water to survive, that morning romp with Alice seems so far away. Her pleasing touch appears decades away from this unintentional swim. Jackson hangs onto a frayed rope dangling from the deck of the boat. He tries several times to pull himself up but only manages to fatigue himself. After his morning delight with Alice, Jackson took a shower and thought about his lesson on how to sail his new purchase. Tommy, Jackson’s oldest and dearest friend, had given him information about a guy who would take him out on his new boat and show him the ropes for a reasonable fee. That excited Jackson as much as Alice’s round ass and her sexual vigor. He scrubbed the soap on, thinking life couldn’t get any better than this; first a hot girl in bed, and then, the open water. You’re a lucky guy, Jackson Harris. “Are you enjoying the swim, rich boy?” Hank, the brute hired to teach Jackson how to sail, calls down from the deck of the yacht. “Yeah sure, asshole,” Jackson speaks too soft to be heard and sputters out water between his lips into the cold ocean. After his shower, Jackson and Alice had said their goodbyes. The two had been dating for a few months. They had decided mutually to keep it casual. He had a demanding career in finance and she was a well-paid model. Jackson kissed Alice and put her in a cab. She waved through the window on her way to catch her flight to Brazil for a photo shoot. Jackson drove across town to the docks with the top down and the stock report faintly coming from the speakers. He stopped at the corner store for coffee and a donut. There he flirted with the young girl working the register. She smiled and batted her pretty blue eyes at him, caressing his hand with petite slender fingers as she handed Jackson his change. They exchanged good mornings and Jackson was on his way with his breakfast with only the images of that little cashier using those soft hands on all his pink parts. The water feels as if it is cooling down. Jackson shivers. The rope stings his hands. He has slipped a few times and is fearful that the next slip might be his last. Pulling into the docks, Jackson found his reserved parking spot without incident. He stopped along the wooden planks leading to his slip to wave at a beautiful blonde in a tiny bikini sunbathing atop a nice white boat. She waved back and smiled. Jackson imagined her supple breasts falling out of the tiny cups of her bathing suit. He whistled as he made his way to his exciting life as a yacht owner. “How long you gonna hang on?” Hank shouts down, unseen by Jackson. Hank arrived just before Jackson at the slip. He had been untying the yacht from the dock when Jackson stepped aboard. The two men said their hellos and shook hands. Hank was a short muscular man that reminded Jackson of Stallone without the movie theater magic. Jackson himself is a tall thin man. He’s in shape but does not have the physique of a body builder. Jackson thought of Mighty Mouse while he watched Hank bent over in shorts much too tight for his bulging thighs, with his muscular buttocks up in the air. Jackson laughed to himself, amused by the stocky build of this so-called boat expert. “Why don’t you let me up, and we can talk about it!” Jackson screams back, straining his vocal cords to be sure he is heard. Hank pushed off the dock, and kicked on the engine. Jackson watched his teacher motor out into the Gulf waters. Hank explained from the cockpit each of his movements and their importance. The water was calm and he’d said that it was perfect for Jackson’s first trip out. Once out on the water, Hank pushed buttons that brought the sails up. His hands worked buttons and levers with a flash. The sails lifted in the wind like wings on a plane. The two men were gliding across the water at a good clip, being pulled by the breeze out across the Gulf. Jackson walked out onto the bow of his new toy and felt the salt air brush across his well-tanned face. He watched as a seagull danced above the ocean before suddenly pulling a fish out of the foamy water and into the clear blue sky. Jackson bangs against the ship forcefully with each lift the vessel makes. His hands burn as they are dragged along the course rope. His body is exhausted, and his will grows weak. With every wave Jackson swallows large amounts of water, failing far too often to hold his breath before being slapped down against the unforgiving sea. Hank watches Jackson appear and disappear under the waves to an unheard rhythm. The muscle man pulls a cold beer from a small fridge stationed mid-ship beneath the side railing. Jackson had asked the salesman to fill it with his favorite brand of beer, before he knew the man trying to kill him would enjoy a frosty cold one while Jackson himself fought for his life in the cold vast sea. They sailed out into international waters, and then began to head toward Mexico. Jackson stood on the deck staring out at the horizon and thinking about how much women would love this ride. They would possibly appreciate it enough to reward him just for being the man who owns this joyous nautical craft. Jackson was thinking about the sunbathing blonde in her bikini when Hank came up behind him slowly and quietly. The steroid head raised a large wrench from his side and held it like a baseball bat. Hank reared back and swung for the fences, smacking Jackson squarely in the side. Stunned and reeling toward the railing of the boat, Jackson screamed in pain from two cracked ribs and turned just in time to see Hank charging at him like a bull in the rodeo coming at a thrown rider. Hank caught Jackson by surprise again and lifted just above his knees shoving Jackson up and over the railing. He fell into the icy water with a thud that knocked the air from his lungs. He sank a few feet down and came up grasping for a piece of the ship. “I think I like you down there with the fish. Hey, maybe you’ll find a shark. You could be my bait for the really big ones. I could be the first man to catch a great white with a rich dweeb for bait,” Hank laughs and finishes his beer. He smiles and throws the empty can at Jackson who relentlessly clings to his rope. A rope dangled from the aft side of the yacht. It smacked into Jackson’s reaching hands as the wind carried the boat past him. Hank walked along the deck looking into the water for the guy he’d thrown overboard. He found Jackson clinging to a rope being dragged by the boat. Shit, Hank thought as he shouted down at Jackson. He told the man in the water he would die if he held on and he should try his luck in the open sea. Jackson knew better. He had heard horror stories of people dying at sea. He had no way of knowing if anyone would be out here before he succumbed to the elements, drowned, or was food for some terrible sea creature. He would hang onto the slippery braids of rope until his body just couldn’t endure any longer. “I think I’ll look for a place to cut you loose,” Hank says while opening a second beer. Jackson had been thinking about the possibility of the rope coming loose from the ship just moments before Hank begins his search for the end of the rope that was tied to the yacht. Jackson is able to hold his breath and go under looking for some way to get off the rope but still remain with the ship. His eyes sting from the salt as he searches the length of the vessel. A twinkle of reflected light catches Jackson’s eye just seconds before he bursts out of the water panting. He takes a deep breath and allows himself to slide down the rope below the surface of the water. Three feet from him attached to the base of the boat, a ladder glistens like a lighthouse warning a storm-battered sailor of sure death upon a low-lying reef. “I’ll find that damn tether and send you into the drink for good…you hear me rich boy?” Hank cackles as he stomps along the edges of the craft searching for where Jackson’s lifeline is tied off. Hank finds it knotted to a lower railing just off the bow. He grins, pulling a switchblade from the front pocket of his shorts. “I have you now!” The knife opens with a click. Jackson hears Hank’s voice but is unable to see where the man has gone or what he’s up to. Figuring he has nothing to lose, Jackson takes a deep breath as Hank puts his knife to the polypropylene twines. Just as Hank begins to saw at the thick rope, Jackson lets go, pushing off the fiberglass side of the boat. Jackson paddles with every last ounce of energy his adrenaline-pumping muscles can conjure up. Jackson thinks of Alice. The day they had met on a flight from Paris back to the States. She sat next to him against the window. Her smile had captivated him. Jackson wonders where their relationship might be headed, and as he struggles to survive, he hopes he gets another chance to see that wonderful smile Alice produces so effortlessly. He thinks that if he lives through this, he will find Alice and give her his heart. Jackson’s hands slide across the wet aluminum step. His body slams hard, sending shooting pains out from his busted ribs. He’s made it to the ladder. Out of breath, but he’s made it. Hank hacks at the fibers with little success. A few strands have frayed, just like his plans. He thinks about how easy he had said this would be as he runs the blade back and forth, over and over. Two days earlier Hank had found himself in a world of trouble, fearing death or prison. Neither of those seemed acceptable to Hank. He had planned the perfect robbery with the son of an old friend. A million and a half dollars from a local bank was the score, but something went wrong. The cops were on his trail now. He was caught on tape carrying the loot from the vault. The idiot boy had failed to tell Hank about the camera inside the safe. This small bit of misinformation placed him on the wanted list and he needed a way out. Jackson has a clear view of Hank cutting at the rope that once acted as his lifeline. Hank curses at the strands as the blade slides across the tough fibers. Seeing his chance, Jackson pulls himself aboard the boat. , Hoping not to be seen, Jackson nervously and quickly makes his way on tiptoes across the yacht into the cabin below the deck. Hank spins on the balls of his feet just as the cabin door closes behind Jackson. Something moved. Hank stares across the empty deck of the yacht looking to assure himself he is alone. After he is fully confident that he is solitary above the salt water, Hank returns to cutting at the tattered filament of rope knotted to the ship. Hank had been a good cellmate to Melvin Sharp while serving a seven-year stretch for armed robbery in the Texas state prison in Huntsville. Melvin passed away in the pokey and had asked Hank to promise he would find his son as soon as he was released. At the time, he hadn’t known his cellmate’s boy was a bank manager. Nor could he have guessed that the son was just as willing to break the law for dough as his old man had been. Jackson feels pain in his side with every breath he takes. He searches the dark for a way to call for help. Jackson remembers the salesman saying the boat was equipped with a state of the art satellite radio as well as a fancy water purifier. At the moment, Jackson would drink pond scum if it meant he could radio for help. Hank had kept his word and found Melvin Sharp’s son. The young man was taller than Hank had expected and much better educated. The boy’s name was Thomas, but he preferred Tommy. Hank told the younger Sharp about the last few years of his old man’s life. Stories about the long days playing poker, “Sometimes we’d play Texas Hold’em, but mostly we played five card stud.” Hank spent hours telling Tommy tales about how his old man had become the closest friend he’d ever had. Without any luck in finding a way to call for help, Jackson begins to rummage around for a means of protection. His movements aretimid; he fears being heard. In the dark, Jackson bangs his knee hard against what he believes to be a table. He mumbles under his breathe that he is an idiot. Why could he not recall the layout of the boat he’d toured only a few weeks ago? Hank discovers that the rope no longer has anyone attached. Just as he begins to laugh thinking the poor rich guy had fallen into the sea, a thud sounds from somewhere on the craft. Tommy had listened to Hank wide-eyed. The stories of his father were interesting, but the ones about Hank’s past crimes intrigued him more. Tommy Sharp had gone to a good school, studied hard, and gotten an above-average job with great pay and benefits, but he hated the grind. Hank was the instrument Tommy would use to orchestrate his escape. Jackson’s knees shake and his lips quiver. He stands frozen in fear thinking he must have been heard. Hank scans the deck of the yacht for the source of the sound. He walks the length of the ship contemplating the odds that the lanky rich kid could have somehow found his way back on board. Unlikely as hell, he decides. Tommy had offered the freshly-released Hank a place to stay and they became fast friends. Hank even began to like the young man. Tommy reminded him of his old roommate in more ways than just the blue of his eyes. The son seemed to have the same criminal instincts as his old man. It wasn’t long before Tommy felt he could trust Hank with his plan. He told his father’s friend about the money that was kept in the bank’s safe and how he could open it. He explained to Hank how to avoid the surveillance cameras while taking the money. The plan was that Hank would come into the bank early before they got too busy, and Tommy would give him the money. Then Hank would hit Tommy hard enough to leave a good knot on his head. Tommy would wake up and claim the bank had been robbed. Finally, the two would get on a flight to a nice island with no extradition rights. Simple, or so it had seemed before Hank found himself on the most wanted list. Hank stares over the railing of the ship into the dark water of the gulf. He comes to the conclusion that Jackson’s strength had given out, and he’d gone down to his watery grave. Jackson finds something heavy that feels like it could be a block of wood. He holds it in his hands, imagining bringing it crashing down onto Hank’s big round head. Jackson practice swings the chunk of whatever down a few times from above his head. This will have to do. Tommy had revealed all the camera locations but the one in the safe. He left that one out intentionally.. The image of Hank smacking Tommy on the head made Tommy’s involvement as unlikely as an elephant in flight. Once the pictures of Hank were shown on all the news channels, a new plan had to be formed. Tommy Sharp had anticipated this and he had already devised a means of escape for his partner and himself. They would steal his buddy’s brand new boat, sail it to some South American country, and split the dough. From there, they would go their separate ways as rich men. Hank could see land coming up quickly. He lowers the sails and starts the motor. Jackson falls back as he feels the ship slow. Are we stopping? he wonders. Hank guides the yacht to a small pier. Carefully he ties the boat off to a pylon at the end of the wooden structure. Tommy had waited for two hours in his BMW on the sandy shore just to the right of the old wooden pier. When he saw the yacht approaching, he grabbed a pistol from his glove box and two heavy bags of cash from the trunk of his car. Hank laughs as he watches Tommy lugging the large bags down the pier toward him. “You gonna help asshole or just stand there like a prick?” “You look like you’ve got it under control,” Hank laughs again and his muscles jiggle. Jackson hears another voice. He considers the situation and decides to risk taking a peek hoping Hank is distracted. Slowly he cracks the door leading to the deck of the ship. “Here…toss it up here,” Hank bends over the railing to grab one of the bags from Tommy. Jackson sees the top half of the stocky man bend down and figures it’s now or never. He bursts from the hull with a wooden chopping block raised above his head. Hank turns just in time to catch the corner of the block right on the temple. He stumbles back as blood slowly trickles across his cheek. Mouth hung open, he falls in a lump of dead flesh onto the deck. Tommy had been looking down at the bags when Jackson cracked Hank’s skull. Tommy looks up just in time to see Jackson’s chest heaving up and down, taking in deep breaths. He stands over Hank’s body holding a wooden block above his head. Blood drips from the tan wood. Tommy fumbles for his gun. Jackson sees Tommy reaching for something and throws the block in defense. The heavy wooden chopping block hits Tommy in the arm sending a shooting pain that causes a delay in retrieving his weapon. Jackson darts across the yacht away from his betrayer and dives into the water opposite the pier. Splashing into the cold saltwater, Jackson swims under the wooden planks that form the rickety dock. Tommy climbs aboard the yacht and finds Hank lying lifeless beside the heavy bag of cash. He takes the sack and exits the craft. Tommy wishes he’d learned how to sail. Jackson hears Tommy dragging the bags across the wood toward the sandy beach. He swims to the shore using the pillars of the pier as cover. “Jackson, it’s not what you think. He was supposed to take off before you got to the docks this morning. I swear I had nothing to do with any harm Hank has caused you. I figured you had insurance, and I needed a way to get us out of the country. Nothing personal, I swear.” Tommy looks around for any sign of his old friend. Jackson can only faintly feel the sting of pain from his broken ribs. The anger at Tommy’s betrayal has him so enraged the pain has grown numb. Thinking Jackson must have swum down the beach away from the pier, Tommy drops the bags and puts the pistol back in his pocket. Breathing heavily, Tommy picks up one of the bags and heads toward his car. Tommy is laboring to carry the heavy baggage, and Jackson sees it as his chance to surprise the traitor. He springs from the water and pounces on Tommy with a tackle that would have brought down Walter Payton. Both men fall to the sand with a hard thud. Tommy screams as his ankle snaps and the wind is knocked from his chest with a jolt. Jackson beats flesh and sand frantically with tightly-clasped fists. A few blows find their mark; others smack uselessly against the beach. Tommy, desperate to escape, rolls away from his attacker and struggles to pull the gun from his pocket. Jackson sees the sun glisten off the cold steel and grabs a hold of Tommy’s forearms. They roll around in the sand like tiny tornados. Jackson’s eardrums violently vibrate at the sudden blast from the gun between the men. He rolls off of Tommy and sees blood pouring from the mouth of his old friend. Tommy coughs twice. Blood splatters the sand as he tries vainly to roll over. The bleeding man’s eyes widen just as his pulse stops. Bruised and battered, Jackson makes his way to Tommy’s car thinking tomorrow he’ll trade the yacht for an engagement ring. Alice seems like the answer because she is all he can think about now. ***