#179 What You Get

by Mary Ellen Martin

The prow of the ship exploded in the dark night. Smoke roiled into the air, reminding me of the ocean during a storm.

The blast knocked me overboard. I landed in the water in an ungraceful belly flop I would have noticed, had the shock, pain, and lack of air been only minor issues.

Sounds were muted, or maybe I was just deaf now, but the light from the fire was bright enough that I had no trouble telling which way was up.

I broke the surface, gasping, looking around for any falling debris that might hit my head. We were close enough to the harbor, and someone surely called 911. Should I stay, or should I go? I had to remember not to hum that in front of the cops.

I treaded water, watching the boat burn. Caster was going to give me hell over this, but I would tell him that’s what he got, with the booby traps. He would call it an occupational hazard, and congratulate me for taking his advice.

Was I the only survivor? Where was Mark? Did he make it? Doubtful. He’d been standing next to the ice chest when it exploded, lifting the lid and reaching for a beer.

Of course, this is what Mark got. I didn’t know, when I met him, that he was an abusive son of a bitch.

And he didn’t know I was friends with smugglers.