Dawn Patrol

126

Dave hops out of the Zodiac.

The ground feels funny under his feet.

“I thought I was delivering herb,” he says to the guy who gets out of the van, a cute little shit named Marco.

“You thought wrong,” Marco says. “You got a problem?”

“No problem,” Dave says, because the guy is holding a wicked-looking little machine gun under one arm. “Just tell Eddie I'm out.”

“ Youtell him,” Marco says. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a fat envelope, and hands it Dave. “Help me get the merchandise into the van.”

“Do it yourself,” Dave says, stuffing the envelope into his jacket. “I'm done.”

“Whatever, bro.”

Another guy gets out of the van and starts herding the girls into it. They go obediently, passively, like they're used to being moved around.

“Jesus, they stink!” Marco says. “What'd you do with them?”

“Seasick,” Dave says. “It was a little rough out there, bro. And you might have let me know I was driving people. I would have been better prepared. You know, life jackets, shit like that?”

“If I had told you,” Marco says, “would you have gone?”

“No.”

“So?”

“What do they do now?” Dave asks. “They're like maids or something like that?”

“Yeah,” Marco says. “Okay, something like that. Look, much as I'd like to stand around and shoot the shit…”

“Yeah,” Dave says.

He goes back to the Zodiac, praying that Johnny got his call. He casually opens his cell phone and sees the text message: “Back-paddle.” Dave starts the engine, then takes the boat to the other side of the lagoon, where he left his truck. When he lands the boat, he says to Esteban, “Disappear, dude.”

“What?”

“ Va te,” Dave says. “ Pinta le. Get the fuck out of here.”

Esteban looks at him for a second, then gets off the boat and disappears into the reeds.

Dave kneels, bends over the edge of the boat, and throws up.