Quetzalcoatl Ch 03

***Authors note: I'm sorry about the delay in releasing this chapter, but my editor had personal commitments to attend to. I wish her all the best. But I was able to find another editor, HMEdits, that was able to assist me. So far it's a good fit. I have at least 3 more chapters written and I hope to have them to you soon. Thanks. Det. Sp.***

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By two A.M. mom came downstairs all dressed. "Do you want to go?"

"Yeah, might as well. We don't know how long it will take us."

We closed and locked the door on the way out, but I don't know why. We weren't ever coming back, I was sure of that. We got in the Humvee and it made its usual growl when I started it.

"Makes a lot of noise, doesn't it?" Mom commented.

"Yeah, but we'll be out of here soon enough." I headed out the way I came in earlier; over the bushes, through the neighbor's side yard and down to the street. Unsurprisingly there was no one on the street, but I was thinking that maybe we would see the "sexual deviants" looking for their friend.

I made our way through the side streets. Only once did I have to go up on a lawn to get around some cars. As I made my way down one of the primary streets in town I saw a strange glow in the sky coming from downtown.

"What's that?" Asked my mom.

"I don't know, and I'm not going to wait to find out." I made a left and went through some more side streets to get away from town. Again the streets were not as cluttered as I had expected. Maybe it was the down town streets that were the bad ones. I got back on another primary street, but this one was heading out of town.

As we rode along I did a steady twenty miles an hour. Anything faster and the Humvee would make too much noise. When I reached the town limits I noticed that something was in the road.

It was a man walking in the middle of the road.

I was trying to keep the Humvee under a steady roar, but even so the guy should have heard us. If he did, he didn't look around at us until I was about thirty yards away. When he did finally turn around, I noticed from the glint of the headlights that he was wearing a badge. He was a Nassau County Cop, or at least he was dressed like a cop. He had a gun belt on too, so I assumed he was armed, but I couldn't see a gun yet in the dark.

As we got close to him, he waved us down. I slid the .380 under my thigh as I opened up the window. I wasn't taking any chances.

"How are you people doing tonight?" He sounded all right.

"Fine Officer, and you?" It sounded almost commonplace.

"Very Good. You people headed on a journey?"

"We are gong to try and find my grandmother." Almost like we were out for a joy ride.

"I see you have a pretty young lady in the car," he continued. "They are kind of rare these days. Be very careful. You might even think of keeping her hidden. There are a lot of dangerous men around."

"I understand Officer."

"I'm hunting for some psychos now."

"Psychos, Officer?"

"Some men became different after Quetzalcoatl. They become psychotic and very dangerous."

"I think that we ran into one this morning."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes we are fine Officer."

"Then I guess he's dead."

I didn't say anything. I wasn't going to admit to murder to a Police Officer, even under the current situation.

"No matter. You had to do what you had to do. I summarily execute them myself."

"I guess you know what you are doing."

"In better times we would round them all up and lock them away. These are not better times. I think there are only a few hundred cops left in Nassau. Most of them are at home trying to protect their own families. I don't have any family left, so I come out at night and hunt psychos."

"You be careful, yourself, Officer." I was starting to worry about his psychological well-being.

"Thanks. And if you see any men who are dressed far too warmly for the weather; be wary. They don't seem to feel the heat. I had one last week, it was ninety degrees out and he was wearing a winter parka.. Besides, they stink to high heaven. You'll see, they stick out like a sore thumb."

"Okay, Officer."

"You have a young lady with you. Remember this if you remember anything; you cannot reason with these men. They will not stop, and they are as vicious and as fearless as a man possessed.

"Thanks Officer." I was worried that my mother was getting scared.

"You bet, and be careful," he said as I pressed down on the accelerator and drove away.

"What did he mean by summarily execute them?" Mom asked as we drove towards the parkway.

"Summarily means without benefit of trial. He shoots them on sight."

"I'm not too sure about that Policeman."

"Well, let's be happy that his hostilities are aimed at the psychos."

I approached the Meadowbrook Parkway with apprehension. I was afraid that it would be a nightmare of jammed and backed up cars, but as I eased down the ramp I saw a clear path running each way north or south.

Someone, whether it was the military or the county government, drove a bulldozer down the middle of the highway and cleared a path. There was a clear lane going the other way on the highway also. It had to be someone official. Even the on and off ramps were free.

What that meant was I could do highway speed, although I felt a little trapped by all of the cars piled in the right lane, and our trip to Freeport would be minutes instead of hours. I probably could do seventy if I had wanted to, but I was worried about roadblocks.

I opted for Sunrise Highway instead of going through downtown Freeport. The roads there were narrow and I was hoping someone had "plowed" Sunrise like they did the Parkway. My hopes came true; someone had indeed cleared Sunrise also.

From there it was clear sailing. Even the side roads were navigable, though I did have to go over people's lawns and bushes a few times.

When we got to the street where Uncle Tom's boat was docked, it was a different story. Several cars had the street blocked. It was touch and go running over people's lawns and squeezing between cars. I even had to run over a chain link fence. I made sure that I knocked down the support post. I didn't want to get hung up half way over.

Uncle Tom's boat was docked in a canal behind someone's house. Most of the south shore of Long Island was laced with canals, and most people who lived on those canals rented a slot or two behind their house.

Tom's boat was behind number sixty-two. I parked in the middle of the street right in front of the house. Someone might have been living there, but no one was awake.

Our vulnerable time would be when we were packing the gear in the boat. We would have to make numerous trips; our hands would be full and our heads would be down. We opted for just me loading the boat and my mom would stand guard with the shotgun.

"Hide in the bushes Ma," I said as I opened the side door of the Humvee and started to unload. "If someone approaches, they will think it's only me."

She slipped in behind an evergreen tree and she was so well hidden that even I couldn't see her unless I was right on top of her. Even with her there standing guard, I was still nervous as I hurried from car to boat and back again.

I was about half way through with my task when out of the dark; a man quickly approached me from out of the bushes. "What do you think you are doing?" He totally startled me, I was nervous to start with, and I yelled in surprise.

He came from the waterside instead of the street, right between the houses. I couldn't see his face in the dark, but he seemed fidgety.

"Oh Jesus you scared me," I said to calm down. "I'm packing my boat."

.

"That's not your boat." The man insisted in the dark. Now, I knew the owner of the house where the boat was docked very well. I had used this boat many times with Jen. So much so, that my uncle even gave me my own set of keys, and this man wasn't the owner.

"Not that it's any of your business, but this is my Uncle's boat."

"You ain't taking this boat, son." Was his only comment.

"What?" I said, not understanding.

"Are you deaf? You're not taking this boat."

"I have permission to use this boat and I'm going to take it." I was hoping that Ma had heard the confrontation because I wasn't quite sure what I was dealing with.

"These are my boats, and no one is taking one of my boats." He insisted. Holy shit, I thought. Is everyone a fucking psycho these days?

"Listen buddy, I don't know what you are talking about. I've been using this boat for years." He approached me closer and I could see the outline of his face.

"No one is taking my boats." He said with some insistence. That's when I saw my mom. I hadn't even noticed that she had left her hiding spot in the bushes. She had the shotgun in her hands, and she approached so quietly that no one would have heard her even if we weren't making so much commotion.

I didn't know what she had in mind, but I knew that I had to keep his attention. "I'm taking this boat, man." I didn't know what else to say, but I knew I was much bigger than him, and unless he had a weapon, I should be able to take him.

"And I'm saying you're not." My mom was about three feet from him and before I knew it she rammed the butt of the rifle up against the back of his head like she was some kind of Lebanese militiaman. The guy never knew what hit him and he went down to the ground with not so much as a whimper.

We both stood there looking at him, wondering if he was going to get back up, but he didn't stir.

"Where the hell did you learn to do that?" I was flabbergasted.

"Just get back to what you were doing before someone else shows up," was all she said. God help them if they did, I thought. I unpacked the rest of the Humvee without incident. I left it in the middle of the street with the keys in it, and signaled to my mother "let's go" as I carried the last of the gear past her through the backyard.

I just threw the stuff in the hold when I got on board. There will be plenty of time to stow it later. I put the key in and started the small outboard motor and let it idle while I untied the bow and stern lines. I sat in the stern nervously and my mother sat inside the boat as we maneuvered down the canal and out to the bay. But no one came after us and no one was watching us.

It was almost anticlimactic as I motored up to one of the islands that dot the bay. I put the motor into neutral and then turned off the engine.

"What are you doing?" My mom asked as I stared up at the mast and the boat slowly drifted in the channel.

"There's no wind."

"What?" she heard what I said, but she needed it repeated.

"There's no wind. At the top of the mast is a streamer that will wave in the slightest breeze. It's totally flat."

"So, keep on going."

"We need to save our gas, and besides the wind will pick up soon enough."

"When?"

"Probably at sunrise."

"What do we do 'til then?"

"Just wait it out. We have a long trip. No one is chasing us. We have to be patient." I could see her nod her head in the dark. "See if you can find the thermos of coffee. I think I left it on the stove in the galley."

It was about four-thirty in the morning. We had about an hour before sunrise, and I could see a silver glow in the eastern horizon. It was mostly clear with just a few clouds in the sky.

. It looked as though it was going to be a nice day, although it was a hot and humid June. A thunderstorm could blow through at any time without notice. I had to be wary. There would be no weather bulletins.

My mom came out of the galley with the thermos and two plastic mugs. She looked very pretty in the predawn light. I remembered again how pretty she was. Quetzalcoatl had changed me, but to what degree?

Mom poured the coffee and sat next to me on deck. "What's that?" She asked as she took a sip of coffee. I had been mostly looking at the sky and the shoreline. I hadn't noticed, but there was a boat drifting unmanned in the channel about two hundred yards to the west.

"A boat of some sorts. Not too big. Maybe a twenty foot Boston Whaler."

"Why would it be out here?"

"Don't know."

"Could we waste a little gas and check it out? It might have something we could use."

"Like what?"

"Gas, or fishing poles. I can't be sure, but I don't think fish can catch the flu."

"You're going to fish?" I said as I looked at her well-manicured hands.

"I was fishing way before you were a gleam in your daddy's eyes. It would be nice to have some fresh fish."

"Okay Ma," it was a good idea, but I doubted that it would have any poles. I figured that the boat probably got loose from its moorings and floated out here. No fisherman would leave expensive poles in a boat.

I started up the motor and made our way towards the whaler. We got about thirty feet from it when I smelled that distinctive smell. I immediately idled the engine.

"What are you doing?" She looked at me funny.

"I'm not sure that we want to get any further," I said cryptically.

"What are you talking about?" She looked at me irritated.

"I think that there is someone dead in that boat."

"How do you know?"

"Do you smell that smell?"

"Yeah, isn't that just the tide?"

"No."

"Well if he's dead than he certainly isn't going to hurt us."

"I know that Ma," I said annoyed. "It might be a little funky. We are fairly far away for it to smell this strong."

"I can take it if you can."

"Alright?" I intoned as I pushed the gearshift into forward. Sure enough, it was bad when we got there, about on the level of Mr. Cooper back in Garden City. The boat was a center console with just a Bimini top.

Mom didn't miss a beat though. I gagged a little when I jumped over to the Whaler, but mom held the two boats together and the dead body was right there on the deck.

We hit the jackpot though. Along with three fishing rods and various lures and tackle, there was a an almost full portable gas tank, a powerful flashlight, a flare gun, a fillet knife and a portable radio. I hadn't thought about bringing a radio. Who would be on it? This was a sophisticated one with all different bands widths besides AM and FM. But the prize, and I didn't know it at the time, was a portable GPS device.

I didn't want to look at the dead body, but for some reason it caught my eye. Something was not right with it,... and then I realized that it was missing half of the skull. I'm no detective, but I figured that it was blown off from a gunshot...most likely a shotgun.

There wasn't much of a mess. If someone had their head blown off then it would create a splatter of blood and tissue. Maybe the blast took it all overboard. There really isn't much room to these center console boats.

"What are you looking at?" She said with her head cocked to one side.

"I think this guy was murdered."

"How do you know that?"

"Because he's missing half of his face."

"Oh."

"Who would murder a fisherman? Could he have done it himself?"

"Maybe, but I think that it is a shotgun wound, and there isn't one on board."

"Maybe it fell over when he shot himself."

Maybe, but I don't know. All I know is that there has been a lot of unnecessary violence in the last few days. It seems that everyone is off kilter." I handed my mom all of the gear and then jumped back on to the sailboat.

It took some doing, but I was able to get the two boats stern to stern and then I pushed the Whaler off with my foot. I had turned off our engine and didn't want to start it again. Within a couple of minutes the two boats were sufficiently removed from each other.

I looked up at the mast and the streamer was starting to float in the breeze. The sun was rising and we had enough wind to get underway. I got to the mast and raised the jib.

The wind was offshore, which was good. It would be easy to just let out the big jib and let the south blowing wind take us out to the inlet. It wouldn't be very fast, but it was a basic maneuver, and I wanted to just ease into sailing. I hadn't been on the boat since last September.

I tied down the ropes and took my place behind the wheel. It was a slack tide too, so I didn't have to fight an incoming tide or a following sea. The sun was coming up and it looked like a nice day. Things were, at least for the moment, going our way.

My mom was sitting right next to me and she appeared to be enjoying the ride. The slight breeze was blowing her dark hair about and I could see the early morning sun on her face. She was bra-less and I could see her nipples just a bit darker under her faded yellow t-shirt.

She was wearing blue jean shorts and the frayed bottoms were only a couple of inches from her crotch. Again, I never recalled her wearing such tight, short shorts, or going bra-less. I could feel my cock swelling in my shorts. She looked at me and smiled. She looked so beautiful and sexy.

"You seem to know what you are doing." I wondered to myself if she did too.

"This is easy, but we can't go too fast." I said loud enough for her to hear me against the flapping of the sail.

"Why can't we go faster?"

"The wind is behind us. You actually go faster when you are facing into the wind."

"When will that be?"

"When either we or the wind change directions."

"How long will it take to get to Delaware?"

"Well, with luck we can do about a hundred to one hundred and fifty miles a day. Depending on the wind and tides. It's roughly about three hundred and fifty miles to Delaware. I don't know, about three to four days."

She seemed shocked, and gave me a quizzical look.

"This isn't a speed boat, Ma. You can't give it the gas and do fifty miles an hour. It's built for cruising not speed. But we will never be looking for a gas station."

We followed the wind south under the Loop Parkway and straight through the Jones Beach Inlet off of Point Lookout. There was actually an old black man fishing off of the Point, and he waved to us. We waved back, happy to see a friendly face, but also happy that there was fifty yards of water between us. We had gotten to the point that we trusted very few people, if any at all.

I kept a southerly course for about an hour or so to make sure we got away from the main run into New York harbor. It was just habit I guess, because there was little chance that a freighter would be out here heading into Newark or Bayonne.

I then shifted to the southwest. My aim was to hit the Jersey shore and follow the coast down. It wasn't the straightest route, but I figured if we ran in to a storm we could get into a harbor somewhere. The truth was that there was little access into the bay until you get to Barnegat Light half way down the Jersey shore.

About ten thirty or eleven in the morning we got to the Jersey shore. The wind had shifted to out of the East and the June sun was beating down on me. I had a baseball cap and sunglasses, but I took off my shirt to get some sun. It felt good to get outside in the sunshine, since we had been cooped up in the house for the last week or so.

Mom must have seen me out on deck without my shirt, because she came up from below holding a bottle of sunscreen.

"Let me get some on you before you burn up," she said as she unscrewed the cap. She was wearing a gold halter-top bikini. She looked luxurious in it, and also very sexy. It was an elegant suit, not too revealing, but definitely hot.

"Not much chance of that with this Lebanese skin you gave me."

"You'd be surprised," she said as she got behind me and started to lather on sunscreen on my back and shoulders. "Remember your dad was northern European." Having your mother in a bikini, touching you, shouldn't feel this good. I had an instant erection as she moved to my arms.

She then got around from behind me, and knelt down in front of me while my hands were on the wheel. She got a handful of lotion and started to rub my chest with it. With my sunglasses on I could look right down to her breasts and cleavage with impunity. I could see the firmness of her stomach and the bump that was her pubic mound.