Page 41

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 of the 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 would she do?

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 rope dropped into the water. I saw hands lashing the wounded inflatable to the speedboat. I swam back and cut the inflatable’s fuel line.

My lungs were burning, but adrenaline kept me moving. I swam under the speedboat until I reached the inflatable on the other side. All four pirates were aboard the speedboat now. I could hear two of them at the stern, probably checking the engines.

I swam to the front of the good Zodiac and sliced the prow line tying it to the speedboat, then I moved around to the other side, staying out of sight. The inflatable started to drift off. I drifted with it, kicking my feet underwater to speed it along. When I had opened a gap of about ten yards, I pulled myself aboard and flopped onto the deck below the gunwale.

I held my breath.

I heard voices. But no shouts. And no shots.

The engine was still idling. I lay flat on my back and worked by touch. The control grip felt like a recycled bicycle handle. I yanked it. The boat surged forward. I grabbed the bottom curve of the steering wheel and cranked it in the opposite direction of the speedboat—toward open water.

Now I heard shouts. Loud and angry. I was twenty yards away. Then forty. I straightened out and picked up speed. Fifty yards. More shouts. Then whip-crack gunshots. I stayed low. Seventy-five yards!

At about a hundred yards out, I lifted my head above the side and saw the pirates furiously trying to start the speedboat.

“Good luck with that, maties!” I shouted.

I pointed the boat toward the horizon, and cranked the throttle.

I was gone.