Fever Dream

and the second set of docks.

Haltingly, warily, the crowd worked its way down toward them. Finally one man, more courageous than the rest, stepped forward. He was large and mean looking, with a small, ferret-like face atop a large amorphous body. He stared at them with squinty blue eyes. 'What the hell you want now?' he said, advancing while tossing his can of beer into the water. Hayward recognized him as one of the ones cheering the loudest when her brassiere was cut in two.

'You said you were gonna leave us alone,' someone else called out.

'I said I wouldn't arrest you. I didn't say I wouldn't come back to bother you.'

The man hitched up his pants. 'You already bothering me.'

'Excellent!' Pendergast stepped onto the docks behind Tiny's, crowded with boats of various descriptions. Hayward recognized most of them from the previous day's ambush. 'And now: which of these fine vessels belongs to Larry?'

'None of your business.'

Pendergast casually tilted the shotgun down, pointing it into a nearby boat, and pulled the trigger. A massive boom echoed across the lake, the boat shuddering with the discharge, a gout of water shooting up, leaving a twelve-inch hole ripped out of its welded aluminum hull. Muddy water came swirling in, the nose of the boat tipping downward.

'What the hell?' a man in the crowd yelled. 'That's my boat!'

'Sorry, I thought it was Larry's. Now, which is Larry's? This one?' Pendergast aimed the gun at the next boat, discharged it. Another geyser of water rose up, showering the crowd, and the boat jumped and began to settle immediately.

'Son of a bitch!' another man screamed. 'Larry's is the 2000 Legend! That one over there!' He gestured to a bass boat at the far end of the slip.

Pendergast strolled over and inspected it. 'Nice. Tell Larry this is for tossing my badge into the swamp.' Another blast from the shotgun, which punched through the outboard engine, the cover flying off. 'And this one's because he's such a low fellow.' A second shot holed the boat at the transom, kicking up a geyser. The stern filled with water, the boat tilted up by the nose, the engine sinking.

'Christ! This bastard's crazy!'

'Indeed.' Pendergast strolled down the dock, racked a fresh round into the shotgun, and casually aimed at the next boat. 'This one's for giving us incorrect directions.' Boom.

Another casual step. 'This is for the double punch to the solar plexus.'

Boom.

'And this is for expectorating on me.'

Boom. Boom. Two more boats went down.

Removing his .45, Pendergast handed it to Hayward. 'Keep an eye on them while I reload.' He pulled a handful of shells from his pocket and inserted them.

'And this is most especially for humiliating and exposing my esteemed colleague to your vulgar, lascivious gaze. As I said before, that was no way to treat a lady.' As he strolled down the dock, he fired into the bottom of each remaining boat, one after the other, pausing only to reload. The crowd stared, shocked into absolute silence.

Pendergast halted before the group of sweating, shaking, beery men. 'Anybody else in the bar?'

Nobody spoke.

'You can't do this,' a man said, his voice cracking. 'This ain't legal.'

'Perhaps somebody should call the FBI,' said Pendergast. He strolled toward the door into the Bait 'n' Bar, cracked it open, glanced inside. 'Ma'am?' he said. 'Please step out.'

A flustered woman with bleached-blond hair and enormous red fingernails came bustling out and broke into a run toward the parking lot.

'You've lost a heel!' Pendergast called after her, but she kept going, hobbling like a lame horse.

Pendergast disappeared inside the bar. Hayward, pistol in hand, could hear him opening and closing doors and calling out. He emerged. 'Nobody home.' He walked around to the front and faced the crowd. 'Everyone, please withdraw to the parking lot and take cover behind those parked cars.'

Nobody moved.

Boom! Pendergast unloaded the shotgun over their heads and they hastily shuffled to the dirt parking lot. Pendergast backed away from the building, racked a fresh round into the shotgun, and aimed at the large propane tank snugged up against the side of the bait shop. He turned to Hayward.

'Captain, we might need the penetrative power of that .45 ACP, so let us both fire on the count of three.'

Hayward took a stance with the .45. I could get used to the Pendergast 'method,' she thought, aiming at the big white tank.

'One...'

'Holy shit, no!' wailed a voice.

'Two...

'Three!'

They fired simultaneously, the .45 kicking hard. A gigantic explosion erupted, and a massive wave of heat and