Mayan Moon [ONC2024]

Chapter 11

Roger stepped forward and jabbed at the man's spleen. His movement is a blur of practiced precision.

With his second step he kicked the knee of his opponent. The crunch and scream almost instant.

Then, he followed with an elbow to the jaw. The ferocious attack left the would-be jailer slumped on the ground, unconscious—his jaw at an odd angle.

A half-step to the right avoided the incoming punch from the other captor. Roger wheeled a flying kick to the side of that man's head so quickly it made a wooshing sound. Then, he followed it with a back kick to the chest as his leading leg landed on the ground. With a crunch, the man's sternum popped.

***

Claire's impatience increased with each step of the men descending the walkway. Her heartbeat seemed to synchronize as if their movement was the only thing keeping her alive.

Hope welled in her. She strained to get a good look at Roger, but the sun betrayed her, making their black silhouettes indistinct. Slowly, they descended suspended in time.

Her heart skipped. It was an unconscious realization at first, but it gradually surfaced as the group approached.

Mr. Doyle ran toward her. The activity on the dock seemed to have stopped all eyes on the commotion created by the arriving group.

Something was off. It was more a feeling than a thought.

Is he hurt?

***

Roger walked to the slumped body of the nearest captor, limping slightly from the force of the last kick.

He thought of Claire. I'm sure she's okay with her special boyfriend.

The heart-wrenching moment she had leaped into that man's arms was still fresh.

The unconscious man was wearing a nondescript pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Rifling through his pockets, he found only a five-dollar bill and some change. Who are these people?

***

As Claire watched, one of the seals stepped in to help the man in the middle walk—his limp now more noticeable.

She peered, hoping, pleading. She strained her eyes. He's probably just slightly hurt.

"Where's the ambulance?" she turned and yelled at Mr. Doyle. Then, unable to control her desperation, she ran up the gangplank.

"At the gate. I'll call them in."

***

Roger, wincing, moved to the final man; he had a taser on his hip and a sheet of paper in one of his trouser pockets. He took both.

He unfolded the paper and started to read the set of instructions on it.

"Cross into Mexico," he mumbled.

***

Claire cocked her head. She could see his short, cropped black hair. Her heart raced.

Then, when she was a quarter of the way up, she saw him clearly. Her vision blurred, and her mind raced.

The face of an imposter crumbled her world.

Memories overwhelmed her. When they first met. When he made pizza. When she kissed him.

Where is he? Her desperate question demanded an answer from the universe.