Lifers 51

In the cabin of the Marianna II, Mason scrambled to his feet in front of the dresser mirror, his right hand covering the right side of his face, and his once brilliant-white shirt, now a mass of crimson down one side.

He removed his hand to see a near black hole where only a few seconds ago, his eye used to be. As he left the plush cabin, he pulled his gun from its holster and headed for the deck. That bitch was going to pay for this, and pay with her life.

He barged through the remains of the shattered louver door and ran up the few wooden steps, when he reached the deck he heard a splash, something big had just hit the water. With his one good eye, he looked over the flimsy length of cord running along the gang-plank, a few feet beneath the surface he saw her looking up, struggling to maintain buoyancy. Reaching over, he was about to empty his gun into the water when the screech of tyres stopped him.

‘Freeze!’ shouted a voice from behind.

Still holding his gun out, Mason wheeled taking aim at the police officer who’d called to him, only to feel three searing pains explode inside his chest. He collapsed to his knees on the gangplank dropping his gun into the water. And before the officer who’d shot him reached the edge of the pier, Mason was dead.

Another officer dove into the lake; he’d seen a woman bunny-hopping along the gang-plank just before the big guy in the shirt came from inside the boat, swimming down to where the woman lay; he started to search the murky depths. After a good two minutes searching, he surfaced again, dragging the woman’s lifeless body over to the pier.

The officer who’d just shot and killed the big guy, helped to pull her from the water. Once she was out and safely on the pier, he used the radio to organise medical assistance, while his partner tried his best to resuscitate the woman.

‘Dispatch, this is Officer Hinkler, 41334.’

‘Go ahead, Officer.’

‘In response to that interrupted cell phone call. We have two fatalities, one Caucasian male, with three gunshot wounds, and one Caucasian female, possible drowning. We require assistance over at Greenview Lake, Pier 17, Over.’

‘This is dispatch, please stand-by.’

Officer Hinkler looked over at his partner and the dead woman. ‘Anything I can do to help, Mitch?’

‘No, I think it’s too late for this one,’ he said, still trying to revive her. ‘How’s the guy?’

‘He was dead before he hit the deck, so to speak.’

‘Dispatch to Officer Hinkler, you have paramedics on the way. They should be with you in approximately eight minutes. Do you require any other assistance? Over.’

‘Dispatch, this is Officer Hinkler, that is a negative. I repeat, a negative. Over and out.’

When Officer Hinkler finished on his radio, he searched the dead man for some form of ID, but found nothing. He stepped over the body to board the Marianna II; his gun held out in front of him, should he find others on board.