Slipway Grey: A Deep Sea Thriller (7 page)

“So, did you tell Mandy?” he asked.

“No, I said I wouldn’t tell anyone. How’d she find out?”

“Well, she didn’t come right out and accuse us of anything.”

“She didn’t, but after Sarah’s coming out party it made me the only suspect.”

“Look, I’ll smooth it over with Desmond. He’s no saint either. I’ll have a man to man talk with him in the morning and get him to put things into perspective.” He got up and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I appreciate that,” Serena said, taking his hand in hers. “Looks like we’ll have to wait until we get back home before you get another piece of this.” She smiled.

“I can’t wait,” he said.

The two walked into the house and searched for a place to sleep for the night.

Chapter 11

One Month Earlier

She doesn’t care who sees her. This one is personal.

The car is speeding. The reflectors on the road become a straight illuminated line. The girl next to her is laughing. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard. She wants to kill her then. Turn the car into an oncoming eighteen-wheeler. It would be quick and easy. The girl doesn’t deserve that. For what she did, she must truly suffer. But she doesn’t want to kill herself in the process.

They aren’t even close friends; more like acquaintances that run in the same circle. The girl is so trusting. Always eager to have fun. To take a ride in a fast car. She should really get to know someone better before hopping into the car with a stranger.

They enter the house, and the girl walks to the kitchen; opens the fridge like she owns the place, and removes a couple of wine coolers. Glasses clink. The girl toasts to starting over. She raises her bottle and secretly toasts to her victim’s impending demise. The couch cushions are neatly arranged to set a cozy space for two. She tells her to sit and take her shoes off.
Keep her totally off guard. It’ll make all of this easier.

“I can’t believe you invited me here,” the girl says. The wine cooler drains in one long draw.

“Why wouldn’t I? We’re friends, right?”

“Well yeah, but we never really spoke that much. I always thought you hated me. And now there are all those awful rumors about me and—”

“Don’t say his name,” she says, gripping her wine cooler bottle tightly.

She fears the girl will sense the deception, and then she’ll be forced into action. Will she gouge out the girl’s eyes, or slice her throat? So many options. Memories of her past kills turn her on. This one waits to become a fantasy orgasm. Each tick of the large clock on the wall is just one constant reminder the girl is still breathing.

“I’m sorry. I really am,” the girl says. “But you should know the truth.”

“You’re going to talk about it, aren’t you? We don’t need to. I don’t even care what the truth is anymore.”

“That’s not fair. I know you invited me out here to talk about him. So let’s just cut the crap.”

She’s perplexed by the girl’s sudden change in demeanor. Voice rising. Fist clenching. The girl is angry, but she is ready. Maybe getting her angry is a good thing. It’ll make what’s to come more fun.

“I want you to know that he came on to me. I’ve been fighting a lot with my boyfriend, and before I knew it, he was texting and emailing me. Telling me sweet things. He said you two broke up.”

“We didn’t, and you knew that, but I’ll get to him later.” She sees red. She doesn’t want to discuss this. The voice in her head starts to whisper.

“I’m sorry. I really am. He took advantage of me. I have nothing else to say. I was really down, and he was there. Surely you have to understand.”

She tries not to laugh at the ridiculous request. The voice starts to talk at a normal volume. She knows it’s only a matter of time before it begins to scream.

“Look,” she says, “I’m over it. He and I were never going to work. You, in a way, spared me future grief. So in a strange way, I’m grateful to you.”

She smiles, and the girl returns it.

“So, we’re friends?”

“Better friends than we’ve ever been.”

They hug, and she inhales the girl’s perfume. Lavender, honey, and vanilla notes fill the air. She’ll try to remember this smell when it’s replaced with bile and blood.

“Do you want to have a drink by the pier? We keep a space cooler in the boathouse stocked with beer and stuff. Seems like a nice night to enjoy the weather and a drink by the water.”

“Sure, it’s a beautiful night.”

The girl leaves the house, and she is right behind her; stalking her like a shadow. The boathouse is locked, but she has the key. She wouldn’t want anyone to stumble upon her prize. The voice in her head is yelling.
DO IT! KILL HER NOW!
She ignores it. It’s not time. Not yet. But soon.

The girl walks past the cleaning station and approaches the cooler. She’s running out of time. Her hand slips to the cleaning station and grabs the filet knife. The girl opens the lid, and her mouth drops in horror. She gags, wretches, and stumbles; her knees giving out on her. She is on her before the girl collects her senses.

Her arm wraps around the girl’s neck, and she hisses into her ear. “He was mine. I loved him.”             

The blade plunges deep into her back and severs the spinal column. The girl collapses, coughing up blood. She starts to crawl away, leaving a crimson smear along the wooden floor of the boathouse. The girl pleads for her life. Begs her to stop. But that doesn’t work. It never works. Tonight won’t be an exception.

She pounces on the girl and stabs the knife deep into soft, yielding flesh. The girl screams, but there’s no one here to save her. She raises the knife and comes down with it. Over and over again until the blood shoots in the air and stains her face. She can taste it, and it’s so good.

She looks down at the girl’s lifeless corpse. It twitches now and then as the nerves die. She pays it no mind. She stands and collects the bone saw from the cabinet and begins to cut. She’ll feed half of her to the beast now, and the other half later. She is running low on meat. This will buy her a few days until her plan comes full circle. It’s so close.

She grabs the severed head by the hair and dangles it over the water. It drops with a splash and slowly sinks below the surface. The lifeless eyes stare up at her as the gloom engulfs it. A large black shape passes just under the surface. She tosses over a few more choice pieces and places the rest in the cooler. She’ll return tomorrow to feed it the rest.

She stares out over the water and feels the tears slowly falling from her eyes.

“Goodbye, Katy.”

The Gulf breeze carries her words away.

Chapter 12

The Present

Chet had just dozed off when his cell phone vibrated loudly on the wooden nightstand. Jarred awake, he grabbed it and held it close to his face. The intense light from the screen burned his retinas, and he squinted, making out the text message.

CUM MEET ME 4 SUM FUN IN THE BOATHOUSE – SERENA

You’ve got to be shitting me
, he thought as he laid the phone down. The hour was late, almost four in the morning, and his head pounded from all the alcohol. He couldn’t believe she was doing this now, after what they’d just been through during the Truth or Dare game. She was insatiable, and Chet knew the first time they hooked up, which had been at a party that neither Desmond nor Mandy had attended, that it wouldn’t be the last. If anything, he liked her more than Mandy. She wasn’t as hot, but she was fun, more carefree, and a total freak in the sack. He’d always heard ‘eager beats pretty,’ and he couldn’t deny that some of the worst lays were from the hottest girls. Mandy was okay, but she couldn’t work it like Serena.

Why not? Not like I’ll be getting any this trip anyway
. He slipped into a pair of jeans and sat up, resting his feet on the floor. His head pounded like a jackhammer, and his mouth was as dry as cotton. He walked to the bathroom and scooped cold water into his mouth, then gargled a bit of mouthwash to mask the scent of morning breath. After checking himself in the mirror, he turned off the lights, and slowly crept out of the bedroom.

He entered the hallway and slowed his pace, trying to reduce the amount of creaking on the wooden floor. The moon illuminated the hall through large windows, and he followed the path. He passed a room and heard Desmond snoring like a bear. The deep, throaty growls had kept Chet awake at football camp for three straight years. He wouldn’t feel bad about giving it to his old lady tonight. The snoring pissed him off.

He heard a noise and froze. His alibi was ready. He was hungry and wanted something to eat. After a few seconds passed, it was evident no one was coming out of their rooms. One of the benefits of each bedroom having its own bathroom: less chance someone would show up in the hallway unannounced.

He took the stairs in the same manner as the hallway, and though they groaned under his weight, he knew he was in the clear. The door closed, and Chet breathed a sigh of relief. He walked down the path to the boathouse, the moon lighting his way, and the pleasant Gulf breeze pushing aside the soft grass under his feet. Approaching the boathouse, he noticed the padlock was off, and he’d wondered about that, knowing Mandy kept it locked. He opened the door and almost reached for the light before retracting his hand.

Think, Chet. People can see the light from the beach house
. He mentally patted himself on the back for the intelligent decision and closed the door. The boat rocked gently. Inside the boathouse was quiet. He stared intently, looking for a feminine shape, but saw none. The smell of perfume was missing in the air, and in its stead a funky odor he couldn’t place. It was sickly-sweet and reminded him of the time a raccoon died between the walls of a restaurant he worked at on occasion. The unmistakable odor of death hung in the air.

“Serena? You here?”

There was no answer, and Chet climbed into the boat and sat on the cushioned seat. He heard something splash in the water and figured it was a channel mullet jumping in a flight for life. He whipped his cell phone out and texted Serena. The light blinded him again, and no sooner did he hit SEND, the door to the boathouse slowly opened. Multicolored stars danced in his eyes from the sudden bright light of the phone as he focused on the dark silhouette that came his way.

“You are such a bad girl,” he said. “Desmond will kill us if we get caught.”

She didn’t answer—only walked forward. The boathouse was dark, and Chet still couldn’t see her clearly. He figured that dark skin hid her in the night and even wondered if she was already naked.

“Get in the boat and let’s make some waves. I’ve been wanting you ever since we got here.”

“Well, you wanted me, you got me,” the voice said. It didn’t belong to Serena.

“Hey, wait a minute. You’re not—”

The wooden oar smashed Chet in the face before he could finish his sentence. A bright explosion went off behind his eyes, and his mouth filled with the coppery taste of blood. His nose crunched, and he stumbled back—wheezing—unable to breathe.

His legs struck the side of the boat, and he fell backward. His body was submerged in the cool Gulf water.

“What the fuck!” He sputtered and choked on saltwater as he flung his arms in the air. “Mandy? Why?”

“Why? You really need to ask why? You’ve been cheating on me for a long time, Chet. You left my parents’ memorial early to sleep with someone. I know. Girls talk. But your days of sleeping around are over.”

“What do you mean?” His nose gushed blood.

“I told you my cousin, Grey, was going to pay us a visit. You’re going to meet him very soon.”

“Who? Grey? I don’t even know—”

Something large under the water brushed Chet’s legs. He uttered a yelp of fear and surprise. His eyes bulged, and he pleaded with them to Mandy. She stood in the boat, staring at him, with wide eyes and a demonic smile.

“I think you just met Grey. Don’t worry; he’ll make this quick for you.” She smacked the oar on the side of the boat rhythmically, as if giving a signal.

“Mandy, there’s something in here. Please, let me up.” He grabbed the side of the boat, and she brought the oar down hard, cracking his fingers. He howled in pain.

“Time to eat, Grey,” she said. The shark made its move.

With a mighty tug, it pulled Chet under. The boy’s mouth filled with water as he screamed. Bubbles rose rapidly, breaking on the surface. Larger ones followed, and Mandy knew they were precious air bubbles. She peered over the surface, trying to see the carnage, but she couldn’t in the darkness.

Chet leapt from the water, as if propelled. He landed halfway on the side of the boat, and Mandy screamed. Blood gushed from his mouth and all the color had left his face. He raised an arm toward her, weakly, as if begging for one last chance. Before she could do anything, he was pulled back under.

He didn’t resurface again.

“I swear, Grey. You did that on purpose.” She flicked the water with her fingers. The large fin broke the surface as the beast allowed itself to be stroked, and then disappeared back into the deep. “One day, I’m going to get some scuba gear and check out where you stay. One day.”

She hopped out of the boat and turned the light on. Blood smeared the side and floor of the boat, and she collected a rag and jumped back in. The seawater was adequate enough to remove the stain. At least there were no body parts on the deck. She checked the water, making sure pieces of Chet hadn’t bobbed to the surface. She’d have to check again in the morning, as Grey was good, but sometimes he got a bit sloppy with his eating.

She cut the light out and shut the door to the boathouse.
What to say about Chet?
Mandy asked herself as she made her way back to the house. Sometimes the easiest thing would be to tell the truth. She had time for that and wasn’t ready to divulge any secrets. The new day would begin soon enough.

New day, more fun.

She stopped and turned, heading back to the dock to look out over the water. She heard a splash and knew Grey was swimming around somewhere. Visions of her predator stepdad being pulled under and her mom snapping in half by the voracious jaws of her savior flashed. Her own personal God. The urge to feed him again was strong, and she felt the connection they shared, like electricity popping in the air. A link between her sophisticated mind and the creature’s primal brain.

Tomorrow, you’ll get your fill.

She walked to the beach house, her eyes already welling with tears as she rehearsed the story of Chet leaving her for good. Loss could be so painful sometimes.