“Move down,” the other crewman bellowed, his rifle indicating the settee where everyone else huddled.
Maria gasped. The captain lay on the deck, dark blood pooling around his sprawled body. My stomach twisted with a wave of nausea, and I looked away, my hands shaking. This couldn’t be happening.
As we moved closer to the others, I caught Jori’s gaze across the settee. His eyes blazed. Elle cried into his chest while the others huddled away from the body. I shuddered.
“I’m a doctor.” Braedon pointed to the body. “May I examine him?”
The crewman-turned-pirate nearest us sneered, “You can toss him in the water.”
Braedon’s jaw muscles tensed, his eyes narrowing. “I’ll need help.”
“I’ll do it,” Jimmy offered, his fists clenched at his sides.
The gunman grunted his approval. Jimmy followed Braedon over to the body, his Adam’s apple convulsing. I took Maria’s cold hand. She clutched mine, moaning as she watched.
Braedon checked for a pulse first and shook his head. They carried the body to the back of the boat, where they dropped the captain into the water. A bloodstain ran the full length of the white netting.
When they returned, Braedon’s tight expression and Jimmy’s pale face did nothing to calm my stomach. I released Maria’s hand, and Jimmy put his arm around her. I huddled close to Braedon as I stared at the pool of blood on the deck. It had been inside a living, breathing man just a few minutes ago. I shivered, wanting to be gone, be home.
I jumped when one pirate started the boat’s engine. In the chaos, I hadn’t noticed anyone shut it off. A girl by Elle let out a sob. The Asian pointed the rifle at her, his hands twitching. “Quiet!” Everyone became still, but not for long.
“Where are you taking us?” Wes called.
The man at the wheel looked like a different person than the one who had passed out drinks to everyone a few hours ago. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Wes swore, leaping at the pirate nearest him. The man swung the rifle, striking Wes in the face and dropping him to the deck. The pirate at the wheel trained his gun on us. His companion kicked Wes in the stomach before backing up with a sneer.
Braedon made a move toward Wes, but the pirate at the wheel growled and Braedon froze. Ryan and Jori helped Wes back on his seat and pressed someone’s shirt against the cut on his jaw.
My mind was awhirl. For years, I had trained in the martial arts and self-defense. None of it did me any good against semiautomatic weapons.
The pirate near us leered at me in a way that sent a chill up my spine. What were they planning? I scanned the row of passengers, half of them young women.
The man at the wheel had been watching me. He must have liked the look on my face. He smirked, steering the pirated catamaran away from American Samoa.
THE FEAR was palpable as we sat crammed in two rows along the edge of the settee area during the long journey. The catamaran’s engine sped us toward the increasingly ugly clouds.
I couldn’t get that look the pirate had given me out of my mind. It made me feel dirty. We might not know what they meant to do with us as a group, but I had no doubt what this guy had in mind for me. I felt queasy.
When I looked at Elle, she stared at me glumly, but Jori’s face beside her reflected the darkness of the gathering storm in the distance. Small waves from the churning water splattered my back, making me shiver.
Jimmy, who had been fidgeting beside me for a while, muttered, “We have to do something.”
“Against guns?” I breathed.
The pirate on guard gave us a withering look. We went silent, but Jimmy kept exchanging glances with Wes between glares at our captors. A sudden slow-motion scene played in my mind of Jimmy and Wes making mad rushes at the pirates, who simply squeezed their triggers and sprayed the group.
I clutched my stomach, the muscles knotting at the thought of either of them trying to do something by themselves, of their bodies lying on the deck, their blood spilling onto the wood. The pirates had already shown what they were capable of with the captain. I doubted they would limit themselves to simply hurting the guys next time.
What did they want with us, anyway? I tried not to think about the leer. Surely, they couldn’t want us just for that. Please let it be for ransom, though my family didn’t have money and neither did Elle’s. Were they hoping to get money from the cruise line?
I couldn’t imagine them getting anything from the US government, which I didn’t think would bargain. But our government might send in people to negotiate our release. And America had snipers. If we were patient and did what they said, there might be a chance for rescue.
But could we take the chance that help would be coming? If we did fight, it would have to be a coordinated effort. But how could we do that with everyone lined up? My head hurt, and I rubbed my temple as a strand of my hair whipped across my face. The wind had picked up.
Jimmy pointed to the horizon. “Look.”
Against a backdrop of black clouds, trimmed with a fading reddish-orange glow from the setting sun, I saw what looked like the shadow of another boat. Adrenaline shot through me; it might be an American military vessel.
But the pirates jabbered to each other, excited. If they were happy, it couldn’t be good news for us.
“We should have tried to jump them earlier,” Jimmy grumbled, his eyes tight. He looked from Maria to the pirates on the catamaran to those on the new ship and back to Maria.
I stretched forward, peering across the settee, my mind racing. Did we have the right to decide for everyone if the risk was worth it to try to take the boat back ourselves?
The pirate nearest us gave Maria another one of those looks, turning back with the hint of a smile. Jimmy tensed beside me. We had to have a plan, in case we had an opportunity to do something. I straightened.
Braedon put his arm around my shoulders and turned his face into my hair near my ear. “What are you thinking?”
“Jimmy’s going to do something,” I whispered into Braedon’s neck. “Right now we’re twenty against two. That boat is sure to have more men—and more weapons.”
He pretended to nuzzle my hair. “We won’t have a lot of fuel left after the distance we’ve traveled. We won’t get very far.”
The lead pirate noticed us and growled at Braedon, who sat up and tightened his arm around me. Jimmy fidgeted, and I reached over and squeezed his hand. His eyes met mine. ‘We’ll figure something out,’ I mouthed.
The roughness of the waves and wind continued to increase. I had to splay my legs to stay on the bench. Braedon’s arm around me helped me stay put, but it was the warmth of his body next to mine that strengthened me the most.
As the larger boat pulled beside the catamaran, possibilities flooded my mind. The lead pirate caught a rope thrown from the ship while the nervous one commanded a couple of our men to tie the rope to the catamaran.
I groaned inwardly. At least three more pirates were visible on the new boat, and they all had weapons. My heart sank. If we tried anything now the men on the boat could just shoot us from above ... but ....
My pulse raced. Wes and Ryan sat near Jori and Elle. Based on how close they were to the rope ladder being lowered from the craft, there should be a point when there would be three people with at least some martial arts training on the larger vessel and three of us on the catamaran.
I nudged Jimmy, his skin hot on my arm. When I indicated our friends up front, he surveyed them for a moment. He nodded and tapped Maria, who in turn touched the person next to her and so on down the line. I think the only reason we got away with it was because the pirates were distracted by the increasingly rough seas, struggling to take the rope ladder.
The guys looked at Jimmy, who mouthed our intent to fight once they were above. They glanced at me, and I nodded. Their eyes got the same shrewd look as Jimmy’s. I could only hope we were all thinking the same thing.
One of the young women stood first in line to b
oard the larger vessel. She glanced back at the group, her eyes glassy, breathing ragged.
When she reached for the rope ladder, the pirate pointed his rifle at her. “Wait.”
The pirate checked her out like a stockman examining a cow for sale. He picked up a strand of her long brown hair. She twisted away from him. Dropping her hair, he pulled the tie string of her bikini. I had never thought you could smell fear, but I could have sworn that’s what came off her.
Shrieking, she grabbed the front of the swimsuit to keep her chest covered. We all surged forward, but suddenly all the rifles from both boats were trained on us. A single round fired into the catamaran’s deck, inches from the girl’s foot, silenced everyone.
I clutched Braedon’s arm. No way was I getting on that boat. He pressed his mouth against my ear and whispered, “Be patient. We can’t help anyone if we’re dead.”
Yeah. That made me feel better.
Once we were back in line, the lead pirate turned back to the girl. He tugged at her top, still held in place by her shaking hands. When she resisted, he put his face to hers, growled something, and placed the barrel of the rifle against her bare abdomen. She closed her eyes and dropped her hands.
With his legs spaced wide to keep his balance in the pitching catamaran, the pirate turned the girl so the men on the boat could see her. He spoke in an Asian sounding language. Two men on the larger vessel laughed and nodded, while the third regarded the rest of us with concern, keeping his rifle pointed at us. The lead pirate on the catamaran told the girl to climb the ladder. He did not give her back her top.
The occasional flash of lightning in the now almost black sky flickered across the fearful and angry faces of the passengers. As another girl approached the ladder and had to remove her top, the tension in the group intensified. The energy coming from Jimmy reminded me of a boiler about to blow.
“Wait for my move,” I breathed.
Then it was Elle’s turn.
When the pirate commanded her to step forward, all my ideas of a coordinated effort flew from my mind. Before I could move, though, Braedon tightened his grip on my shoulder, and Jimmy stepped back, grabbing my other shoulder. Even though I knew they were right, I moaned in frustration.
Elle marched forward, her back stiff with pride, untied her bikini top, and handed it over as if she was handing her jacket to a coat-check. I could tell by her red face how much it cost her, but I had never been prouder of her.
After she climbed onto the large boat, Jori sped up the swaying ladder behind her. He ripped off his T-shirt for her as soon as his feet hit the deck. A shouting match ensued with two of the pirates up there. Jimmy caught the attention of Wes and Ryan where they stood by the rail. Ryan looked at me. I nodded. With a grim smile, he dipped his head in return.
Braedon and I now stood almost abreast of the pirates on the catamaran. While the shouting match continued above us, I began to make loud sobbing noises. The lead pirate growled at Maria to step forward. Bending, I turned away from the other pirate, who stood to my left. I cocked my arm into my side.
The wind whipping my hair into my body, I fake-sobbed louder, pulling the energy of my wrath inside. My knees bent to accommodate the heaving deck. Sucking in my breath for a loud kiai, I spun around, fast and hard. I didn’t feel the pain as the heel of my palm connected with the pirate’s chin, and he flew up in the air.
I hoped he bit his tongue off.
Braedon lunged forward in sync with me, jerking the rifle from the flying pirate and twisting to aim at the loathsome beast by the rope ladder. Jimmy, however, had already jumped him and struggled to take his rifle.
A series of lightning flashes across the black clouds turned the fight above into a macabre dance under a strobe light. The sharp cracks of thunder almost covered the sounds of shouts and screams.
I wanted to cheer. Our people were fighting back. Jimmy ripped the rifle from the pirate’s hands, spinning in a deft move and taking aim. Both pirates leapt from the catamaran into the churning water.
A spray of gunfire ripped into the exposed deck of the catamaran, and we jumped for cover under the canopy.
“We’re free!” Maria screamed, hurling aside the rope that had tied us to the other boat.
Braedon tossed me his rifle and started the engine. “We’ve got to get out of their range of fire!” He gunned it and, with a sharp turn, sped us away from the boat.
Ping. Ping ... ping. The sound of bullets striking the catamaran decreased the farther we got. I fervently prayed no one had been hurt. And that the catamaran hadn’t taken too much damage.
Then the full force of the storm hit us.
CHAPTER 12
CLINGING TO the settee rail, I tried to stay on my feet as a wave crested over the side. The pelting rain stung like little pebbles. I squinted against the burning salt water. Braedon clutched the wheel, fighting to maintain stability, his muscles taut with the strain. The catamaran was a fair-weather craft, never meant to be at sea in conditions like these.
And what about Elle and the others? If they weren’t successful, how angry would those men be? I heaved myself next to Braedon. “Can you see the other boat?” I yelled. “We’ve got to go back!”
“Not—look out!” He jerked the wheel to meet the onslaught of water as a new wave crashed into us.
I slipped and lost my footing, sliding to the deck with the water. My shin bashed the corner of the seating. I cried out and grabbed a pole.
Braedon, his fists clenched on the wheel, called over his shoulder, “Are you all right?”
I got to my feet and tested my leg. It hurt but held my weight. “Yes.” Pulling myself again to Braedon, I picked up the radio mike. It came away in my hand.
“They shot it,” Braedon said and then swore as he steered into another wave.
Once it passed, I located life vests in a seat box and helped Braedon put one on. Once I had mine fastened, I grabbed two more and staggered in search of Jimmy and Maria.
I found them on the other side of the settee. Jimmy lay on his back. Maria knelt beside him, pressing on his chest. Her shoulders shook with sobs. In the dim light, I didn’t comprehend at first that his white T-shirt was pink and red.
“No, no,” I cried, dropping beside her, heedless of my shin.
A swell peaked and crashed over us, and Maria bent to shield him. Jimmy, his face pale, coughed as he choked on the water.
“I called and you wouldn’t come,” she cried.
I pressed my hand against his forehead, my eyes burning. I swallowed the bile that rose to the back of my throat. Not Jimmy.
His lips moved, but I couldn’t make out his words. I put my ear by his mouth.
“Sorry”—he coughed, his face contorting, body tensing— “I didn’t move ... fast enough.”
“Oh, Jimmy.” I touched his cheek, wishing I could tease him back, but his pale skin and shallow breathing filled me with dread. I had to get help. I jumped to my feet. “I’ll get Braedon.” Jimmy nodded weakly.
“Hurry!” Maria shrieked, almost baring her teeth. “Oh, God! Don’t let him die.”
I stared back at her. She shouldn’t talk about dying when Jimmy could hear. I darted a glance at him, but his eyes were closed. I stumbled to Braedon and shouted, “Jimmy’s been shot in the chest. He’s bleeding a lot!”
His jaw tightened, and he took my hands, wrapping my fingers around the wheel. “Keep it turned into the waves.” He ripped open a cupboard with a red cross on it. Snatching the kit inside, he clung to a main mast as another wave hit us before lurching to Jimmy.
I clenched the wheel, straining to keep it in place. Hands trembling, my mind filled with the memory of the captain’s blood on the deck overlaid with the image of Jimmy.
Had it been less than twenty-four hours since he had been in his glory? As I spun the wheel to meet another wave, I screamed out my frustration, the sound lost in the gusting wind.
While I fought my personal battle with the sea, all my angst of the past
week drained away, trivial and petty in the face of Jimmy’s fight for life.
The need to fight the waves and the wind forced me to focus on the moment. I lost count of the time or how many waves battered us before Braedon was back, freeing my cramped fingers and taking the wheel from me. I rubbed my hands to get the circulation flowing again. “Is Jimmy ...?”
Braedon, his face grim, shook his head and shouted, “He didn’t make it. We’re taking on too much water. You and Maria need to bail it out.”
I stumbled to the side, only part of it from a swell. Choking back a lump in my throat, I turned. Maria sat, a dark shape huddled on the bench, shaking with sobs. Resisting a sudden sense of weakness that threatened to overwhelm me, I focused my thoughts on the moment. I located two buckets in a closed cupboard nearby and staggered to her. Still weeping, Maria came with me when I showed her the pail. We went to work, tossing out bucket loads of water.
For an eternity, we fought the ocean, bailing water that was replaced with another wave. Thoughts of Jimmy and Elle— and all the horrible things I kept imagining those men doing to her—continued to nag at me, but I forced the burning pain in my back and arms to be my only reality. I came to think each bucketful of water would be the last; I simply could not continue. But there was always more water at my feet. I kept telling myself I could do one more, just one more.
I was a robot, not noticing when the rain had slackened or that the amount of water coming over the side had diminished. When I sensed the cool water depth on my legs had dropped to my ankles, I came back to a physical presence and straightened to relieve my muscles, rubbing at the painful cramps. Maria did the same.
Braedon’s hunched form at the wheel was a silhouette against the nearly full moon, the stars in the dark sky patchworked with drifting clouds. We had survived.
What was happening to Elle? I shook my head. I had to deal with what I could control. “Maria, I need to check on Braedon.”
“Of course.” Her tone had a sharp, accusatory edge to it.
A Change of Plans Page 8
