Drone Games (41 page)

It was him.

The line went limp, and Riley quickly reeled in the excess. The monster on the other end wouldn’t budge. After ten minutes, Riley’s arms ached from the stalemate, and he felt rather stupid just standing there. Something had to give. He had no choice. The pressure would either force the fish out of its rock sanctuary or snap the line.

He gathered his strength and pulled.

Something actually moved.

A wave of excitement ran through Riley’s body, so strong that he felt like shouting. He knew he had a chance. His equipment was in top shape, he had a stiff piano-wire leader and a new stainless steel hook. That fish was
not
getting off.

Twenty-five feet away, Shaitan’s massive body broke the surface like some steel barrel. The giant black grouper fanned its tail slowly, and the movement brought it closer.

Riley spied a net on the boat’s canopy but decided to use a six-foot gaff hook instead. He wrapped his hand through a thick leather loop on the handle and leaned over the water.

“Come to papa!” he shouted. “I’m gonna grill your fat hide.”

The fish would have none of it.

With one strong flap, Shaitan turned back for the seawall. Riley managed to alter the path slightly, and as he did, the monster headed straight for a docked forty-eight-foot Sea Ray Sedan Bridge. The name on the stern was appropriate:

DEVIL FISH

Riley couldn’t see below the surface, but he knew that the fish had circled the yacht’s propeller. Strained beyond its limit, the line suddenly gave off a firecracker-like snap, and the momentum sent him backward onto his butt on the deck. His head smacked into the console. He gave out a loud curse.

A little girl wearing oversized sunglasses and her mother’s floppy straw hat appeared on the Sea Ray’s bridge.

“You said a bad word, mister,” she scolded. “And you’re not a very good fish catcher. He got away.”

—

A US Interstate Highway

“I NEVER knew this state had so many cows,” Marissa said, observing a large herd grazing in the flat grassland.

“It ranks eleventh in the States,” Akil noted. “Most of the beef cattle here are from a Brahman strain. They can handle the heat and humidity. Now I can too.”

“I like it.” Marissa smiled, rubbing Akil’s newly shaved scalp. “It feels so sexy.”

“Eddie said we could visit lots of places where cows live,” Amber announced from the backseat. “He said that Kansas, Nebraska, and Texas have the most cows and that I could even feed some.”

Marissa looked at Akil oddly. “How come you know so much about cows?”

“I dunno. I guess I read it somewhere.”

“I’m hungry,” Jo-Jo whined impatiently. “Are we almost there yet?”

“Mommy, listen,” Amber said, bracing the toy organ on her lap. She pressed out the tune perfectly with two fingers.”

“Amber, that’s beautiful. Who taught you that?”

“Eddie did,” she said, beaming. “Mommy, does McDonald’s turn cows into hamburgers?”

“Well, yes. Some cows are used for meat, and also milk and butter.”

“Does McDonald’s kill them?”

“No, I think someone else does.”

“Mommy, is the world big?”

“It’s very big.”

“Is it a world of fear?”

“Of course not, sweetie,” Marissa assured, frowning at her daughter and giving Akil a confused look. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Because that’s what the song says. Eddie even sang it with me.”

“Amber,” Akil scolded. “That’s not what it means. The world is nice. Especially America. We’re going to a special place with lots of animals and friendly people from all different countries. There’ll be lots of fun things to do and see. It’s not a world of fear, okay?”

“Can we stay there for this many days?” Jo-Jo begged, raising four fingers.

Akil checked the rearview mirror and eased the minivan into the right-hand lane. He turned his head and winked. “If you’re a good boy, we’ll stay there for twenty-one days—uh-oh, look who I see.”

Jo-Jo’s eyes grew wide. He covered his smile with both hands at the sight of a large billboard. Two symbols represented a simple but universal code that every child could decipher. One was a large, black arrow that pointed south. To the right of that arrow, three circles formed the distinctive ears and face of Florida’s most famous mouse.

Amber set her organ aside, rested her head on a pillow, and gazed out the window. She sang the words softly from memory.

“It’s a world of laughter, a world of tears. It’s a world of hope, it’s a world of fear. There’s so much that we share, that it’s time we’re aware, it’s a small world after all.”

JOEL NARLOCK thrives on asking “what if.” He has interviewed the US Secret Service, top commercial airline pilots, and FAA and military officials about drones flying where they shouldn’t. He was given a private tour of Andrews AFB specifically to evaluate an unmanned drone penetrating its perimeter. He walked the rooftop of Camden Yards Stadium in Baltimore specifically to evaluate a drone’s ability to target the pitcher’s mound. He predicts that drone technology and usage in America will increase dramatically, hopefully to benefit mankind.
Drone Games
is a realistic story about using drones for evil. By raising drone awareness, perhaps others will ask “what if” and be prepared to stop those who might actually try similar tactics. And that’s a good thing. Joel is the author of
Target Acquired.
He took first place in Key West’s 2013 Mystery Fest Short Story Contest.

© 2014 Joel Narlock

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever, whether by graphic, visual, electronic, film, microfilm, tape recording, or any other means, without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and articles.

This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. The opinions and views expressed herein belong solely to the author and do not necessarily represent the opinions or views of Cedar Fort, Inc. Permission for the use of sources, graphics, and photos is also solely the responsibility of the author.

ISBN 13: 978-1-4621-0951-7

Published by Sweetwater Books, an imprint of Cedar Fort, Inc.

2373 W. 700 S. Springville, UT 84663

Distributed by Cedar Fort, Inc.,
www.cedarfort.com

Cover design by Kristen Reeves

Cover design © 2014 by Lyle Mortimer

Edited and typeset by Melissa J. Caldwell