Dawn Patrol

68

High Tide turns into the parking lot at Sea Cliff Park and pulls up next to the Boonemobile.

Boone ain't in it.

What the hell, Tide wonders, is Boone doing up here on the bluff over the south end of Shrink's at night? Checking out the surf? Really, bruddah?

Tide heads down the stairs toward the beach. Hurts his knee, walking down stairs, but what are you going to do? He has to have a word with Boone, and down the stairs is where Boone is apparently at.

Except he ain't.

When Tide gets down on the sand, he doesn't see Boone standing there checking out the waves.

All he sees is fog.

Then he spots something in the shallow white water. At first he thinks it's a dolphin, but a dolphin wouldn't be in the trench in this weather and he sees only one, and dolphins travel in groups. Must be driftwood, something came in with the tide.

The driftwood stands up.

“BOONE!” High Tide yells. “HAMO!”

Brother.

High Tide walks into the water and grabs Boone, then sees that there are two women with him. Boone grabs one of them, Tide the other, and they stagger onto the beach.

Boone mumbles, “Tide…”

“Easy, bro.”

“Are they-”

“They're okay.” Tide takes off his jacket and wraps it around the smaller woman, who's shivering uncontrollably. Then he takes off his wool beanie and puts it on the head of the tall redheaded woman. It's not enough, but it will help for the time being.

Boone says, “How did you…”

“Beach-bongo telegraph,” High Tide says. “Word's all along the coast you're here.”

“We gotta get off this beach,” Boone says. He hefts the smaller woman into a fireman's carry.

Petra starts to say, “I can-”

“I know you can.”

He carries her anyway. Tide easily sweeps up the redheaded woman and holds her close to his chest as they climb the steps back up to the parking lot. When they get there, Tide grabs two blankets and some towels from the back of his truck as Boone starts to undress Petra.

“What are you doing?” she murmurs.

“Have to get you out of these,” Boone says. “Hypothermia. Give me a hand, hamo?”

Boone, his fingers trembling with cold, strips Petra down to her underwear, wraps her tightly in the blanket, then vigorously rubs her hair dry while Tide does the same with Tammy.

“How about you?” Tide asks.

“I'm okay,” Boone says.

They get the women into the cab of Tide's truck, then Tide starts the engine and cranks the heater on full blast. Boone goes to the back of his van, strips down, towels off, and changes into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

Tide climbs into the van.

“S'up, brah?”

“It's complicated, Tide,” Boone says. “Can you give me a hand? I need to buy some time.”

“What you got in mind?”

When Boone tells him, High Tide objects. “It's the Boonemobile, man.”

But Boone puts the van in neutral, and he and Tide push it to the edge of the bluff, then take a running start and shove it through the thin wooden guardrail.

“Good-bye,” Boone says.

The van launches off the edge, stays upright for a second, then somersaults down onto the beach. A second later, a muffled explosion goes off; then a small tower of flame rises up through the fog.

Hell of a bonfire on the beach tonight.

A Viking funeral for the Boonemobile.