They turned into another street. “This street gives a good view of my place. It’s where I would park.”
“You may be right. The car up ahead looks suspicious.”
They drove past and Sarge nodded. There was a figure in the front seat who quickly lowered something—probably binoculars.
“He’s in the front because he probably believes he’s far enough away from the residence.” He looked at Bruce. “Well, mate, you have a problem.”
“All good. My other residence will keep us concealed until we can work out what to do.”
“Yes. We’ll need to get you off the watchlist. I should be able to rectify that when I get back to work.”
Bruce looked at the Sarge. “You a spy or something?”
“Not quite. But I work in the intelligence community.”
“Does that mean you’re intelligent?” Bruce looked at him. “Come on. Give me a smile. Might call you James.”
“You do that.” This man’s flippancy annoyed him. “But we still have a problem. We need to get Wiley out of your place before he’s noticed. It’s best not to make any phone calls.”
“I can sneak into the house from the back.”
“You go get him then. Treat it as a covert operation.”
The smirk returned to Bruce’s face. Sarge did not like this man. Too flippant.
They parked a few blocks away, and Bruce disappeared into some shrubbery overhanging a pathway. After he vanished, Sarge looked around the area. There was a small row of shops above a park. He needed to recharge so got out of the car and wandered over to get a coffee and a snack. He looked down at the ocean. Calm and blue.
He found a park bench and was surrounded by ibis and seagulls as he enjoyed his blueberry muffin. He sensed movement to his left and looked across to where the car was parked. Bruce stood next to the car, waving frantically at him.
There was no Wiley.
* * *
Wiley hoped the rest of his walk wasn’t like this. He was pleased when he saw the bench seat appear. Boy, was he unfit. He looked down the stairs he just climbed. Should he go on? He needed to—they were onto him.
He skulled a bottle of water and was glad he’d packed a few in his backpack. He tossed the plastic bottle into the bushes behind the seat. He felt a twinge of guilt and wondered where that came from. The bench seat looked out towards Sunshine Beach. A light mist was coming off the ocean waves and moving towards the upmarket houses perched on the hills. Wiley looked from where he’d come from and could see the whale tower he’d climbed earlier. That climb had also highlighted his lack of stamina. But his heart had slowed, and his energy was returning.
There were a few people walking along the beach. Was drone girl one of them? Well, he’d best continue. He’d looked at the map at the start of the walk and guessed he must be in the vicinity of Devil’s Kitchen. What would one be served in a devil’s kitchen? There was another Christians reference—they’d named a place Hell’s Gate. Was there a gate there? What would it lead to? Another strange feeling came across Wiley—apprehension in relation to Hell’s Gate, as if something waited there for him. Stupid thoughts. Where were they coming from?
He headed down towards another beach, paying particular attention to the rocky pathway. There were a few people with surfboards walking along the beach. The sound of the waves pounding the ocean rocks invigorated Wiley. Once on the beach, he sensed he was being watched, and turned and looked up towards the shrubbery. There were men there. As Wiley looked more closely, he realised they were in the nude. He had ended up on a nudist beach.
He smiled and started looking for women, but there weren’t many people around. Maybe it was too hot. He’d like to be free and loose, so he walked up the beach a little to the dry sand, placed his backpack on the sand, and took his clothes off. He stood there in the nude and raised his hands to the air, the sun warming his bare skin. Between that and the calming sounds of the waves, he wanted to scream and let the feelings he had inside escape. Instead, he wandered to the water’s edge, then ran into the water and dived into an incoming wave. He came out of the wave and felt so good.
He made his way out further in the water and looked back at his clothes and the nude men backed up against the shrubbery. They were in the shade and it reminded him of the heat. He best not stay out here too long. At that point, he felt the current. It was strong and he was being pulled with it. A sense of panic came over him. He was caught in a rip.
Swim sideways.
The thought came from who knew where. He wasn’t a strong swimmer and panic started to swamp him. His head went under. He resurfaced, yelled, and went under again. Crazy thoughts entered his head. His dad. He hadn’t thought of his dad for years, so why now? He surfaced and yelled and waved his arms.
The two nude men had run down to the water’s edge and were pointing at something. Wiley went down again. Camellia, his first love, entered his mind. Someone was standing with her. He felt heavy now, and it was hard to push himself up. It was time to let go.
He drifted down. The calmness of the surface surprised him. A bright light mixed with the dark blueness of the water above him. A bearded figure appeared. Their head surrounded by sunlight. A hand came into the water and reached down for Wiley. He knew it was Jesus.
Wiley surfaced, gasping.
He was being pushed towards something.
“You okay, mate?”
Strands of wet hair and blue eyes looked at him. His hands touched something solid. A surfboard.
“You’ll be okay. I’ll just get us out of this rip.”
The surfer got him to the shallow water, and the two nude men assisted him onto the beach, sat him down and draped a towel over him. He coughed up some water and fought to slow his breathing. Soon, he was able to thank his helpers and watched as the surfer headed back out to the waves.
“I should be fine now, thanks.”
“Come up to the shade. That’ll help the recovery process,” one of the men suggested. The other picked up Wiley’s belongings.
It was a good idea and Wiley sat with the men for a good thirty minutes while he recovered. One of the men was Welsh and told them that back home Devil’s Kitchen could mean a black hole. His friend said the foaming fury of the water reminded him of boiling water. Wiley related to the first suggestion, as he felt that he’d just been saved from a black hole.
The near-death experience had done something to Wiley. Jesus had saved him.
* * *
“Where could he be?” They’d searched the area for over an hour and couldn’t find him.
Sarge always had concerns about Thomas Wiley and was glad he was off the radar for now. Did Wiley get an inkling of the stakeout and leave? If so, well done. But where would he go and what were the risks if he got caught?
