As they slowly pulled away from the shore, the crashing sounds of breaking bushes drifted across the water. Ted killed the lantern, then pulled on the paddle even harder than before. He knew that the beach dropped off quickly once they were about a hundred feet out, but before then, it was a shallow slope. In the event the intruder really wanted to walk out to them, putting that one hundred feet between them was mandatory.
Brian and Denise broke out of the undergrowth, realizing immediately that the boat was no longer beached. Who had launched it, Ted and Marsha, or Jeff’s goon? Not sure who was in control, Brian froze, pulling Denise to a stop beside him. His first instinct was to shout Ted’s name, but if the goon was still on the beach, they’d need to keep their position secret. All he could do was wait for some indication, then formulate a plan afterwards.
Ted heard his friend come out of the bush, and understood, almost instinctively, Brian’s dilemma. They were close enough to the drop-off that the boat would probably drift out the remaining distance without the use of a paddle.
“Marsha, grab that searchlight, and find the asshole on the beach. Don’t, under any circumstances, shine it on Brian or Denise. No sense giving away their location, and maybe the searchlight will blind that idiot enough that he won’t be able to see. Normally, Brian can outrun almost anyone, but with those busted ribs, I don’t know. Also, he’s gonna protect Denise at all costs. If we can blind the other guy, they may have a chance.” Marsha jumped to the searchlight, flicked the switch, and began to search the beach with the light beam. It was only a moment later that she found her quarry. “Good girl!” Ted cheered. “Now, just keep that light on him. Brian will have to do the rest.”
Marsha’s manoeuver was the break that Brian needed. He signalled to Denise to keep as quiet as she could. It also answered his question as to who commanded the speedboat. Now all he had to do was immobilize Jeff’s side-kick. That would be the trick.
“Denise,” he whispered, “get ready to swim out to the boat. I’ll divert what’s-his-name’s attention. If I can knock him out somehow, I’ll be out there as soon as I can. Just wait for my signal, then run like hell, and swim like there’s no tomorrow. Got it?”
Denise nodded her head, but in the night’s light, no one could see her acknowledging movement. She grunted her understanding, her fear feeding her bloodstream with adrenaline. She squinted in an effort to map out the terrain in her mind, determining that they were only a matter of a few yards from the water.
In the glare of the spotlight, the lone remnant of the gang was blinded, and stumbled towards where he thought the sound of Brian leaving the brush had come. Slowly he advanced on their position, waiting for any further indications of where the two were. A glint of light flashed on the steel knife he held. That sight wasn’t lost on Brian, nor on Marsha. She fought hard to stifle the scream welling up in her throat. Ted had made himself useful by attempting to rewire the boat’s ignition.
“Now, Denise! Run, and don’t look back!” Brian hissed. She felt frozen by her fear, fighting to overcome her leg’s resistance to moving. Breaking free, she dashed towards the water, running as fast as she could, then plunging into the lake’s cold, and swam for the light that shone like the sun. That fear she’d had on the beach refused to allow her to look back; it drove her on, even as the conflict between her own survival and the desertion of her friend washed over her.
Brian watched as his adversary approached slowly, his position well-lit by the searchlight. Tactically, he’d usually have moved behind his opponent, but any stray light would give him away, leaving him without any remaining advantage. As the gang member came closer, Brian scooped up a handful of sand, to be used to blind his adversary. At the last moment, he made his move. Whether it was the shock of the unexpected, or the grit in his eyes, the man dropped the knife and tried in vain to relieve the pain. Brian took advantage of his lapse, running towards the now defenceless adversary, and punched him squarely in the nose. The poor guy never knew what hit him, and he collapsed in the sand. Brian immediately turned and charged into the water, diving in when he was far enough out to float.
Denise had swum to the stern of the boat, pulling herself up on the rear swim-grid, and into the cockpit. Just as she clambered onto the doghouse covering the engine, Ted found the right wiring combination, and the engine leaped into life. As he crawled out from under the dashboard, the sight of Denise safely onboard greeted his eyes, and he dashed to help her, holding her tight in the process.
“Where’s Brian?” he asked. “Isn’t he with you, Dennie?”
“No. He told me to swim like there’s no tomorrow, and I . . . I left him behind! Oh God, what have I done?” she wailed, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks. “He . . . he’s saved my life twice tonight, and I left him on that beach! Ted! We’ve got to find him!” she cried. Suddenly, there was a splash at the stern of the boat, and Brian’s head popped into view over the transom.
“Umm, could you two break the reunion for a minute, and give me a hand getting out of this fucking cold water, please?” a familiar voice requested.
“Brian!” Denise screamed. “God, I didn’t know where you were! I just did what you told me to do.”
“I know, and following my directions probably saved my ass, girl” he answered. “Now would somebody get this tub moving, and get us the hell out of here? Please?”
Ted pulled his friend into the cockpit, then jumped behind the wheel, slamming the throttles forward as far as they’d go. The sudden acceleration had both girls scrambling to regain their balance as the powerful craft lifted out of the water, heading for the cove’s entrance. Marsha crawled to where Brian sat, wrapping her arms around his neck, and kissing him passionately.
“Baby,” she said, loud enough to be heard over the screaming engine, “you had me so fucking scared! Don’t you ever do that to me again, hear, or I’ll kick your balls in!” Then she kissed him deeply once more, her tongue duelling with his as she clung to the person that she felt so passionately in love with.
Denise had managed to find her way to Ted’s side, and she clung to his arm tightly. Ted’s attention was split between steering the boat out of the cove, and the warmth of Denise’s kisses on his cheek. The four teens revelled in their closeness, in their friendship, and in their survival of the harrowing assault.
Ted slowed the boat down when they were about a mile offshore, then brought it to an almost complete halt. The rush of adrenaline in his system had finally burned off, and he felt himself shake with relief.
“Okay,” he started, “now that we’ve gotten our asses out of that sling, how the hell do we explain being in Hansen’s boat? And what about Jeff and his asshole friends? Do we just leave them on Skull Island and forget about them, or what?”