CHAPTER 41
From the couch, Val stared through the doorway at Eric. He sat alone at the kitchen table, his back to her and Mack, tapping away at his laptop. He was already on his fourth glass of rum punch.
The night had started out nice. Val had made them a round of drinks, and for once they’d all gotten along and enjoyed a sunset as red as their cocktails. Val told them about what Clive had said, and her plans to join him in the morning. But when the sky darkened, so did Mack’s mood, and he’d again started in on Eric, criticizing his ROV for their lack of success. Now, as Eric bent over his computer, Mack was not letting up.
“Looking for girls online again?” Mack shouted at Eric. Val’s uncle sat in a chair across from her in the living room, fiddling with one of his prosthetic limbs.
Eric ignored him.
“You should try meeting one in person for once. Head into town. You might actually get laid.”
“What are you doing, Eric?” Val said.
“Nothing.” He continued to work.
Val considered saying something to Mack, but decided not to. She knew that at some point Eric would have to stand up for himself if her uncle was ever going to respect him.
Mack looked at her. “When I was his age, I didn’t let my libido go to waste.”
“Well, you’re not him. Listen, I want to talk more about what Clive said.”
“About his shark-headed monster?”
“Yes.”
“That’s horseshit, Val, and you know it.”
“Maybe that legend is grounded in reality. What if I can get Clive to help us?”
Mack said, “Why not? Clearly Watson’s ROV isn’t gonna find anything for us. That reminds me. Hey, Watson! You still owe me twenty bucks.”
Eric slammed his cup down on the table, causing Val to jump. “Double or nothing,” he said quietly.
“Oh?” Mack said, grinning. He’d clearly had too much to drink himself. “You have a bet, huh?”
Eric turned to face her uncle. “I’ve got another twenty bucks that says if we ever see any hint of a lusca, Mack will cut and run.”
Mack laughed. “Right. I would be the one running. You’re too scared to even go underwater.”
“Maybe. But at least I don’t parade around pretending to be a war hero.”
Mack’s eyes narrowed. He set down his prosthetic and looked at Eric. “Watch it, you little shit.”
“I know what really happened in Iraq, Mack.” Eric held out his laptop, looking defiant and frightened at the same time. “It’s all right here.”
Val said, “What are you talking about, Eric?”
“I started looking into his record. I wanted to learn more about his brave deeds, so it would be easier to stomach his insults. But I didn’t find what I’d expected. Your uncle here isn’t a hero at all. Tell her how you really lost that leg, Mack.”
“She already knows. I stepped on a goddam IED.”
“Yeah, but does she know the whole story?” Eric said.
Val said, “What are you doing, Eric? Mack’s been through enough already. Leave him alone.”
“I’m tired of his shit, and you always defending him because you think he’s so much better than he really is. He isn’t the guy you think, Val. He’s nothing but a coward.” He paused. “And he got American soldiers killed in Iraq.”
Val tensed, expecting her uncle to lunge at Eric then, but he just reached for his drink and took a long swallow.
She said, “I don’t understand—”
“It’s all online, if you know where to look,” Eric said. “There are unprotected blogs, a few public records. I even found a news article about it.” He thrust out the laptop, screen toward her. “Come take a look. It says Mack here was a deserter. Lost his leg when he went AWOL, and stepped on a mine in the dark. When his buddies came to find him, they ran into Taliban. Three American soldiers died.”
Mack clenched his jaw.
“Unless, of course, there was another Alistair McCaffery who lost a leg in Iraq.”
Val regarded Eric. “I don’t believe you.”
“Of course, you don’t. It’s right here, but you’re not even willing to come see the truth for yourself. He barely avoided a court-martial, but men from his own unit went online and publicly called him out after they got home.”
“But I thought . . .” Val stood and started toward Eric. She stopped. The computer screen glared back at her with a harsh whiteness. She turned back to her uncle. “It isn’t true. Right, Mack?”
He set down his empty glass. “Val, I can explain.”
“Explain what?” She stood frozen, part of her wanting to go look at Eric’s laptop, another part terrified of what it might have on it. “Uncle Mack?”
“Oh, fuck this. And fuck you, Watson. You goddam weasel.” He began to hastily reattach his prosthetic leg.
Val looked at Eric. “Stop smiling. Whatever you’re doing here, it isn’t funny.”
Mack stood unsteadily and started for the back door. As he hurried away, he stumbled and his artificial leg bent sideways under his weight and came free. Mack cried out as he collapsed to the hard floor.
Val knelt to help him. She glanced back at Eric. At that moment, she hated him.