The Things We Bury - Part 2: No Big Apocalypse [Completed]

Chapter 7: Bad As Me (Part 7 of 7)

The gentle rolling beneath his feet, reminded Max of how much he hated boats. Nothing good ever happened on boats.

The colorless disk of the sun was turning the rippling sea into a blinding sheet of light as it dropped in the sky. It would give them a tactical advantage. Anyone heading toward them would have to look into the glare. He could stand on deck and no one would know his identity until they got within ten yards.

Katie came up the narrow stairs from the cabin. "All clear down below, Maxy."

"Don't call me that. And the term is below deck."

"Ooh, you're so smart." She said it in that unsettling, ditsy way of hers, where he had no idea if she was being serious or sarcastic.

She came over and pecked him on the lips in passing. It was a sudden flicker of affection as she swept the aft with her silenced pistol.

They were on a forty foot, fiberglass hull boat on the southern spit of Galveston Island. The small marina was quiet. It was a commercial wharf and most of the boats had already come back to their slips for the day. The crews and their customers were already home or out at the bars. The pier was isolated and not much chance any innocents would come by. It was an ideal location for an ambush. Not that Maxwell wanted this to be a sneak attack. He still had some hope that before the day was done, he would find some way to help R.J. evade the noose.

"Penny for your thoughts," Katie said and she put her hands around his neck. Her forearms rested on his shoulders and the butt of the gun dug into the muscles on his back.

If he'd hoped to get closer to Katie by sleeping with her, it had worked too well. Much too well. He pulled away from her but her arms didn't yield. "I was just thinking this is a good spot to wait for them."

She pouted. Her mouth formed an exaggerated frown. "All work, Maxy. I was just thinking. When this mission is over, we should get a boat like this and sail away. Can you imagine the possibilities? Just the two of us naked on the empty ocean."

The answer he should have given was sounds wonderful. This was the script—the part he was to play. But his mouth didn't seem to want to form the words. He was about to kill his friend and a teenage girl he watched grow up. Back in Phoenix, Emily and Aaron didn't know if Maxwell was alive or dead, and might not even care. There was a very clear line where he wanted his life to be and being with Katie was about as far from that as possible. Something inside him rebelled and he found himself saying something entirely different and entirely unexpected. The truth.

"Katie." He pulled her arms off of him and kept hold of her wrists. "There is nothing for us after this mission. I have no feelings for you. What happened last night...it was...it was just sex. I don't care if I ever see you again."

"I see." Her gaze drifted off to the shimmering sea.

Maxwell felt suddenly nauseous. What was wrong with him? He actually cared that he had hurt her. In the old days he wouldn't have. Hell, in the old days he would have lied, strung her along, and would be long gone before the tears came. Still, he could have avoided being intentionally cruel to this emotionally immature woman. Even if he was going to resort to the truth, he didn't need to do that. He could have put her off without being so savage about it. "Look, I—"

When she looked back at him, her dizzy smile was back. "I'm so relieved to hear you say that."

"You are?"

"Yes. I was afraid you were going to go all soft on me and get a school boy crush. I don't give a shit about you either."

"You don't?"

"No. But you see that's what makes this perfect. We can screw our brains out and get back to the job without any of that useless emotional baggage."

"But what about the sailing away together and that calling me Maxy crap?"

"Oh that was just an act? Like the act you put on in the motel last night. When you got all quiet and serious on me, I thought, oh shit girl, you're in trouble. But now it's all good." She pulled herself up onto her toes and pecked his nose.

"An act?"

"Yes, silly. Don't you see, we're perfect for each other." Katie slipped her 9mm millimeter back into the holster under her jean jacket. "Now, I'm going to check the perimeter. Perhaps when I get back there will be time for a quickie."

She took one step from him and stopped abruptly. "Damn it! I stepped in it. Son-of-a-bitch." She showed him the bloody sole of her designer runner. Red coated the bottom and road up the rim splashing the pink canvas. Maxwell reached down and pulled the doo-rag from Bill Sanders back pocket. He gave it to Katie to clean off her shoe so she wouldn't smear the blood around the deck any more than she already had.

"These were new. Fucker," she said kicking the corpse.

"I told you not to shoot him. There were other ways to deal with him."

"Yeah, but did you see his face?"

Max had seen.

Katie strolling up to Bill Sanders as he prepped the boat for R.J.'s getaway. Do you know the way back to the mainland? A big weathered grin of a seaman looking at this sexy, young thing in tight leggings and tank top. Then the gun comes whipping out and the horrible look of surprise shadows his expression as the knowledge that he's already dead sinks in. Katie let him fully appreciate the moment before she pulled the trigger three times in rapid succession.

Katie kissed Maxwell again. "Back soon."

She walked away and Maxwell wondered if she was right. How was he any different than her? Maybe they were perfect for each other.

***

Author's Note: A short scene to end on, but it sets the stage for Chapter 8, Galveston. I got a comment while I was editing this that Maxwell doesn't have the swagger he used to. I admit, I hadn't really been thinking of his struggles as a departure from character. Maxwell is coming to terms with a world he no longer knows his place in, and I've been writing him as a lost soul. But what do you think, does he need to toughen up and get back to being the old cock-sure, Machiavellian agent in charge?

As for the next chapter, I'm still working on the rough draft and not nearly as far along as I hoped to be. I'm not sure exactly what next week's installment will look like. It may be very short.