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Shore Enough

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A Couple in Distress story with David and Caz.

The brisk breeze coming off the North Sea blew plump raindrops onto the car windshield.  Caz peered anxiously ahead, driving carefully in the inclement conditions.  "I think we're lost," she announced.  "David, could you check the map again?"

David was certain they were on the right road, but he opened the map just the same.  "Of course, darling," he said, studying intently.  "We're running a little late because of this rainy weather, which seems so typical of England, but we should be coming up on a village called Coconut Harbor in just a couple minutes now."

"Coconut Harbor?"  Caz frowned in concentration.  "I don't recall ever hearing a town with that name before."  She flicked a quick sideways glance.  "Um, David, darling, I think I see what the problem is."

"What's that?"

"That isn't a map of the UK; it's a map of Hawaii!"

"Oh!" he exclaimed, twisting it around.  "Yes, you're right, Caz.  I wondered about the photo with the people wearing grass skirts.  I'm sorry; I guess I got us lost."

"Oh, well, it's okay," she decided cheerfully.  "This road is bound to go somewhere, so we can have an adventure wherever it leads us!"

That statement was going to prove much truer than she realized.

"I hope we find a motel soon, though," she continued.  "I don't like driving when it's like this."  The car rose over a small hill and around a broad curve, and then, as if in answer to her statement, a small cluster of buildings came into view.  They were all dark, except for one.  It was a country inn, with a faded sign on the outside announcing The Seagull's Roost.  A faint light twinkled invitingly within.

"I see a couple vehicles parked around back, but no cars out front, so we should have no trouble getting a room!" announced David.  He stepped out, opened the umbrella, and then escorted Caz inside the dingy structure.

The lobby appeared deserted.  David strode forward and rang a small bell on the counter.  "Hello, is anybody here?" he called out.

There was silence for several seconds before a very old man slowly shuffled out to face them.  He wore a faded, red bandana over his sparse, white hair, an old pea coat over his shrunken frame, a pair of blue dungarees on his lanky legs, and a pair of black work shoes.  "What do you want?" he demanded suspiciously.

"We'd like a room for the night, please," said Caz politely.

"Sorry, we're all full up."

"What do you mean by that?" demanded David.  A rectangle of wood with hooks and numbers hung on the wall.  A large, brass key dangled on every hook.  "I can see that board behind you.  It doesn't look like you've got anyone staying here at all!"

"Nope, sorry, drive down south about five kilometers and you'll find all kinds of motels; it's a big town called, um, what's that name again?"

"We just came from the south and there isn't any town any five kilometers back," Caz informed him.

"Nope, it's there all right.  You folks must have drove past and clean missed it."

"I'm sorry, but can't you do something to give us a room?" pleaded Caz.  "Really, it seems a storm's coming up and…"

"Don't give me your weather report," the old man interrupted rudely.  "I'm Dinghy Dan, I am, and I've been sailing these seas near my whole life.  I can tell what the clouds are going to do before they do themselves!  And we're going to be in for a right rough time tonight, with rain pounding and wind howling and the tide coming ashore like you hardly never see!"

"Then you understand why we really need that room," said Caz.

"I'd like to give you folks a room, but, like I said, we're all full up.  We can't have you sleeping here in the lobby, now can we?  No, be on your way and find someplace secure to ride out the storm before all thunderation breaks loose."

"There are so rooms available," said David angrily.  "We can pay for our lodging, so you can't refuse us service.  Provide us with a room or I'll call and file a complaint and the authorities will come out here and… and…!"

David had no idea who to call about that, but luckily Dinghy Dan decided to back down.  "All right, calm down.  I was just saying all that because the rooms haven't been cleaned proper, but if that sets alright with you folks, I can put you up in number 13."  He ducked down momentarily and presented them with a large book.  He blew the dust off the cover and opened it.  As David signed with a flourish, Dinghy Dan retrieved the key.

"Now, I want to caution you folks about something.  A right storm's a-brewing, like I told you.  If you stay in your room you'll be safe enough, so be sure you do, you hear?"

"Yes, we're tired and won't be going anywhere," David replied as he and Caz climbed the staircase.  "Here's our room, Caz," he announced.  "I wonder why he gave us the one at the end of the hall?"

"He wasn't joking when he said it hadn't been cleaned properly," sighed Caz, looking around the dark, dingy room in distaste.

"It's just for tonight," said David.  "We'll let this storm pass and then get going in the morning.  We'll get directions from someone who doesn't seem quite so… odd."

"Yes he was acting very strangely," Caz agreed.  "You saw how he didn't want us stopping here at all and then insisted we stay in our room!  There's some mystery about this place and we're going to discover what it is!"

"We are?" asked David.

"Yes," stated Caz firmly.  She swept away a layer of dust from the nightstand and hesitantly placed her cell phone in the center.  "We are!"

___
"I knew there was something suspicious going on!"  Caz did not speak aloud, but the glance she gave David expressed her meaning well enough.  The two of them crouched behind the wooden staircase in the damp room under the inn's lobby.  It could not be called a cellar properly speaking, for, while the side closest to the road was completely belowground, the earth sloped down sharply so that the furthermost wall was aboveground, with wide, sliding doors that were open, leading out to the beach.

"Hurry up and get the goods moved before that storm blows in!" ordered a gruff voice.  Several men wearing gray-blue rain gear were busy moving crates from the building into three vans parked on the sand.  They worked silently and methodically, so that in the few minutes David and Caz watched, the room had very nearly been emptied of its contents.

Was this a hiding place for stolen goods?  It was probably a smuggling operation, Caz decided, as they were by the sea.  She was burning with curiosity to see what was in the crates, but they were all stowed away in the vans now.  The workers headed out of the room, so, with a sigh, she nodded to David and they quietly crept around to head up the stair, trusting to the darkness to cloak them from view.

It hid them from the workers, who paid them no more mind now than they had when the pair had first crept down, but, unfortunately….

"What're you two blasted snoops doing down here?!" demanded Dinghy Dan, standing above them.  David and Caz had been so concerned with the workers below that they had not paid any attention to what was happening above.  "I thought I told you to stay tucked up tight in your room?"

"What's going on here?" demanded David angrily.

"None of your concern," Dinghy Dan countered, folding his arms.

"You've running a smuggling operation here," accused Caz.

"Here, and in other places," Dinghy Dan admitted proudly.

"Is there some problem, old timer?"  The workers had heard the voices and came over, observing David and Caz with concern.  "Who are these people, our new contacts?"

"Yes, we are!" exclaimed Caz, thinking quickly.  "We've come to make arrangements for the next shipment of… the stuff."

"Nah, they're just a couple of snoops who poked around where they shouldn't of," said Dinghy Dan, disgust in his voice.  "We'll need to take care of them so they don't spread word of our business around."

"We're going to call the police!" announced David, reaching for his cell phone.

One of the workers sprang forward, knocking the device out of his hands.  "What are we going to do with them, old man?" he asked.

"You're going to let us go or you're going to be in so much trouble!" Caz promised him, as the men held tight onto David and Caz.

David tried to struggle, but there were simply too many people.  In the movies, the hero would have fought them all, knocking them unconscious, but this was no movie.  He could do nothing as strong arms kept them immobilized.

"Tie 'em up," ordered Dinghy Dan.  "We've got plenty of rope and I know you seafarers know all about knots!"

A chorus of rough guffaws greeted that statement.  "And gag 'em, too," Dan continued, as thick strands of ropes were passed up through the crowd.  David and Caz could only stand helplessly as they were quickly bound and gagged, and wonder what Dinghy Dan had meant when he said he would take care of them….

___
"Dead men tell no tales," quoted Dinghy Dan.  "I heard that in some old pirate movie once.  Them Hollywood people sure got a lot wrong in it, but that at least is true enough."

"When we get out of this we're going to contact the police and they'll start an investigation and find out all about you," Caz promised Dinghy Dan.  She could not speak, being gagged, but her eyes sent the message well enough.

She and David stood side by side, near the front of the cellar.  Ropes encircled their legs, with a strand running from David's left ankle to Caz's right.  Their hands were tied above their heads, connected to a low ceiling beam.  Each had a thick cloth serving as a cleave gag.  They tried slipping their wrists out of the knots, but…

"No, you ain't going to wiggle-waggle loose that way," Dinghy Dan assured them.  He was the only other person left in the cellar.  Two of the vans had already driven off.  The third one honked its horn impatiently.  "I'll be there in a minute!" Dan shouted over his shoulder.

"Now as for any investigation, I ain't overly concerned about that," Dinghy Dan told Caz.  "This ain't one of our regular hideouts.  It's a shame I suppose, 'cos it would have made a handy one.

"And you won't be telling the police nothing.  I told you earlier about the tide coming in.  Now, when there's a storm surge and the high tide at the same time, the water really comes a-rushing in.  And I can tell you, there was a problem with the tide flooding the cellar of this old building anyhow.  That's why this inn ain't used no more."

Dan walked over to the stone wall and fished a piece of chalk from his coat.  He stretched his shaky arm high to draw a snaky yellow line.  "I've been dealing with the sea for more'n seventy years and I know all her moods and caprices.  And I can tell you, that where I drew that line is how high the water is going to rise!"

"Mpfff!" exclaimed David and Caz together.

Honk!  Shouts emerged from the van.  The water was already coming up and no one wanted to be stranded.

Dinghy Dan ignored the honking, but he did respond to David and Caz.  "That's right, folks.  Right up over your heads!"

He gave a chuckle that turned into a wheeze as he held his side.  Grimacing slightly, he hurried down to the waiting van, which spun its wheels in the sand even before Dinghy Dan closed the door.  It appeared to be stuck, but then managed to move forward, disappearing into the night.

The sea flung water up the shore as David and Caz look at each other in alarm.  They had no doubt but that Dinghy Dan was right about how high the water was going to rise.  They had to find some way to escape, but how?

___
The wind whistled furiously outside, seeming to sing a mournful tune.  Hail mixed in with the rain, rattling against the sides of the old building as it formed a thin layer of ice on the shore before the approaching surf swept it away.

And how quickly that surf did approach!  It seemed to race toward the bound pair, as if eager for their demise.  Only minutes earlier the boundary of the sea lay safely outside, yet now the waves flowed past the open doors, temporarily subsiding, but then surging forward once more, drawing swiftly closer until it lapped against the toes of their shoes!

Not that David and Caz stood idly watching it approach.  They twisted their arms in a desperate bid to escape, but Dinghy Dan and his associates had tied them so effectively that it seemed the more they twisted the tighter ropes held them.  They were not going to slip loose, as Dinghy Dan had informed them.  Yet they had to get free somehow!  Their knees were already wet and the cold water continued to pour in.  It seemed to them that, if anything, the chalk mark on the wall was cautiously low, the way things were developing!

"Mpfff!" exclaimed David, not really saying anything, but expressing his frustration.  His normal reaction was to come to rescue Caz when she was in danger, but he was tied up along with her!  He had to get free, but how?  He stopped twisting in his bounds and considered alternatives.

He glanced up.  The rope above him was secured to the ceiling beam, but the beam itself looked old and rotten!  David bent his knees the slightest bit he could and pulled down.  The wood creaked and squeaked.  It seemed to respond to David's pull, that it would break loose!  Just a little more effort and… nothing!  It only gave in so far and then held.  They were still trapped and the water was almost up to David's waist!

"Mpfff!" exclaimed Caz in disappointment.  As David tried to regain his breath, she pulled on the beam herself.  But she had no more success.  It seemed they simply did not have the strength to pry it loose.

By themselves, that is, they realized as they looked over at one another.

This time they both pulled together.  The wood groaned in protest, not giving in, but the pair continued to strain.  Just when it seemed they could continue no longer, they suddenly succeeded!  A short section of the beam broke loose, crashing down on David's head!

He was so relieved to be free that he ignored the pain.  Caz reached toward the wall with her bound hands.  Even though they had succeeded, they still were tied together and it was very difficult to move in the water that was up to their necks, and the beam tied to their hands hindered their movements considerably.  Somehow, though, they managed to pull themselves forward to the bottom of the staircase and up a few steps, gasping in relief as they untied their gags.  The water continued pouring in, so they pulled themselves up a few more steps, until they felt they were finally out of danger.  The ropes were wet, making the knots very difficult to loosen, but, working together, they eventually freed themselves.  They glanced down at the dirty water in the cellar as it swirled about, seemingly angry its prey had escaped it.

___
One of the first things Caz did when they finally returned to the inn proper was use her cell phone to make a call to the police.  After the call she and David had an ample opportunity to shower and change into dry clothes and talk about what had happened and to wait and doze off and wait some more until finally a lone police vehicle loomed out of the stormy night, pulling into the parking lot.

PC Frederick Boddington-Smythe listened politely but not very attentively to their story as David and Caz took turns explaining the events of the night.  "So, what are you going to do about it?" asked David when finished, for the police constable continued sitting silently, making no comment.

There was no immediate reply as the morose policeman stood up and clasped his hands behind his back, frowning so that his eyebrows almost met.  "I'll let you off with just a warning," he finally announced.

"What!?" exclaimed David and Caz simultaneously.

"It's trespassing, that's what you're doing, coming to this abandoned building.  I don't know what games you played here tonight, but shouldn't get so caught up in them that you think it's okay to get the police involved in them!"

"They weren't any games!" exploded Caz.  "We just told you about how those smugglers were here, loading some crates into some vans.  A lot of time has passed, but if you hurry you may still be able to catch up with them!"

"Uh huh.  And just what was in those crates?"

"I don't know," admitted Caz in a small voice, for that was the part of the mystery that really piqued her curiosity.

"The storm is letting up and morning is about here," observed PC Boddington-Smythe, moving over to a window.  "It's safe for you to drive now, and I suggest you do.  I'll come back this way later on and if I find you two still here…."  He left that thought unfinished as he ambled out the door.

"I guess we'd better go, Caz," said David.

"Oh, yes, we're going.  We can forget about this place, because I remember Dinghy Dan saying they were going to use it anymore."

"What do you mean by that?" asked David, knowing Caz well enough to realize she was up to something.

"I mean that if the police won't investigate the smugglers then we will!" announced Caz.  "We'll uncover their operations all by ourselves.

"And then we'll finally discover just what was in those boxes!"
Caz is :iconnid311: , the wonderful woman I am lucky enough to be able to call my damsel, and David is of course me. The other characters were created for this story, but, with the ending, they may be making return appearances. We shall see.

This story came about as a discussion with Caz about Couple in Distress stories. I had written one before, a little while back. I was thinking about creating another, perhaps involving the two of us. In return, she set me a challenge, which is something the two of us frequently do. My response was a somewhat different version of the story you read here. She set me a few other CiD challenges afterwards, but after completing a few, my mind always went back to the first CiD challenge, so I elected to use it as the base for a story to share with the world.

I write Couple in Distress stories in such a fashion that I think they are more a subgenre of my Damsel in Distress stories rather than a genuinely separate category. I enjoy the occasional change of creating them, so it is my intention they will become a somewhat regular feature on my page.
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tapedupcouple's avatar

Great story! Really enjoyed the high tide peril.