Page 34 of Murder Island
A large bird had just landed on the stern.
My muscles tensed and my brain went into overdrive. I blinked hard. It took a second to realize that I wasn’t hallucinating.
It looked like some kind of tern or gull, and it was about ten feet away from where I was kneeling. I slowly pulled my plastic paddle out of the water and got ready to swing it. I knew I’d only have one shot. The bird’s head was swiveling and ducking, like it was nervous about something. Maybe it knew what was coming.
I gripped the end of the paddle with both hands and turned slowly until I was facing backward. I raised the paddle like a baseball bat and tightened my grip. When I cocked my shoulders, my festering back felt like it was ripping open.
“Don’t move,” I whispered, my eyes locked on the bird. “Don’t you dare move…”
I lunged forward and swung the paddle as hard as I could.
Shit!
Missed by an inch.
The momentum threw me off balance. I landed hard on my side. Pain shot through my whole body. The bird fluttered its wings and pushed off the back of the boat. I made one last desperate grab, but I was way off. The damn thing was already in the air, mocking me.
I collapsed face-first on the deck. I didn’t have much left. Maybe nothing. My mouth was dry. My vision was blurred. I heard buzzing in my ears.
I turned my head to the side and pounded my head with my fist, trying to get rid of the sound. When I stopped, the buzzing was still there.
I pushed myself up from the deck. Agony.
The buzzing wasn’t in my head.
It was coming from a distance.
I turned around and crawled back to the cockpit. I peeked over the cowling. Two bright orange dots were heading straight for me. I pulled a small pair of binoculars from the console and looked out. Two inflatables. Two men each. Ragged and lean.
Goddamnit!
More pirates.
CHAPTER 40
I HAD TO move fast.
This time I was in no shape for a fight, and I had no magical weapons. If the pirates saw me, I was dead. Simple as that.
I grabbed my cutlass from under a seat cushion and slipped over the side of the boat. At the last second, I ripped a section of rubber tubing from one of the engines. Then I slid the cutlass through my belt and let go of the boat rail.
I hyperventilated to pump extra oxygen into my lungs, but the pain from my back made me seize up. I gulped in what air I could and slid under. I prayed to God the pirates would be happy with the fancy speedboat and not be too curious about the owner.
I saw the white swirls from the propellers from underwater as the two inflatables stopped on opposite sides ofthe speedboat. Both engines were idling. I could hear the muffled sound of men’s voices above. Excited. Impatient.
I was treading water about ten feet under, fifteen feet from the nearest Zodiac. The water was murky enough to give me cover, but my lungs were already about to burst. I started to black out. I pulled the hose from my pocket and stuck it in my mouth. Then I rose slowly—so slowly—toward the surface and let the tip of the hose poke up into the air. I blew once to clear it, then inhaled. I gagged on the diesel residue, but I clamped my mouth tight and took another breath. I dropped my arms to my sides and sank back down again.
I needed a plan.
I knew that if the pirates took off with my boat, I had no chance. For a second, I thought about making a big splash and just letting them shoot me. A quick, merciful headshot—then peace. Let somebody else take on the evil in the world.
Then I thought about Kira again. What wouldshedo?
I reached down and pulled out my cutlass.
I clenched my hose between my teeth and swam underwater toward the nearest inflatable. When I was directly under the right pontoon, I jammed the cutlass tip into the hard rubber and cut a long slice through it. I heard a shout. The hull of the speedboat rocked as the pirates abandoned the sinking inflatable.
Angry voices from above. Then, a length of ropedropped into the water. I saw hands lashing the wounded inflatable to the speedboat. I swam back and cut the inflatable’s fuel line.