by Dan Fairview
He washed up and went to the control panel in the kitchen.
As he punched in his code, he felt a draft of air and something struck him. Everything went black.
16
John woke up, tied to a chair in his kitchen. He turned his head as far as he could in both directions. The kitchen and living room were empty.
His head thumped terribly, and his ears were ringing. He was tied awkwardly because of the sling. Maybe I can take advantage of that. He struggled to work some slack into the ropes. If he got enough, he would be able to reach the knife in his pocket.
"Ah, I see your awake," a voice with a lisp said from behind him.
Something was familiar about the voice. The man came into John's field of vision dragging a bag. It was the man with the scarred face who had stolen his wallet the day he arrived on Viata. The same man he had seen at Taylor's.
"I see you remember me, how sweet." The lisp was gone now.
"Who you working for?" John asked.
"I work for many people."
"Were you responsible for blowing up that boat the other day?"
"I won't pretend I don't know what you're talking about."
"Joy was a friend of mine. Weren't you good enough to take out Ashton when he was alone?"
The man giggled as he licked his lips. "I had a stroke of luck there. Two birds with one stone, as they say. Ashton wasn't the only one I was paid to eliminate, the young bride had to go too. Never occurred to you, did it? What a disappointment. I never understood why Graspeau thought you were so smart." He flicked the scab on John's ear. “You got lucky there.”
John reeled. Had this snake worked for Graspeau? Graspeau was responsible for the death of his wife, and had kidnapped Clarissa just after he had arrived on Viata.
An approaching boat interrupted his thoughts.
"I would love to stay and chat, but it looks like your time is up. Say hello to your pretty wife for me."
The man reached into the bag, done something, then took off. John struggled with the ropes trying to loosen them. He strained hard against them until his shoulder hurt again where it had been dislocated.
My shoulder.
If he could get it to pop out of socket, it would give him the slack he needed.
The pain was excruciating when it came out, but the ropes slackened and he was able to reach the knife he carried in his pocket to cut himself free.
When he looked in the bag, there was an explosive device. It was connected to a keypad and a timing device. The countdown timer showed two minutes. Not enough time to figure out how to stop it. So he made a run for it.
He wasn't sure who had pulled up in a boat, but if he didn't warn them, they would go up with the house.
Once outside, he rushed down the steps. Gulls scattered as he ran for the boathouse. To his shock, Katrina and Coles were coming out. They smiled and waved at him.
John waved his good arm wildly. "Get back inside and get down, the house is going to explode."
He must have looked like a crazy man running at them, but they did as he said and turned back.
The house exploded.
He had just made it to the door when the pressure wave caught him in the back, sending him flying inside. The deafening roar was followed by debris raining down upon the roof.
John landed on his face scraping his nose on the floorboards. He rolled over and looked up, hoping the boathouse wouldn't come down on top of them.
Katrina rushed to his side. "John, you ok?"
Her voice was thick with concern.
"I'd be a lot better if someone would help me put my shoulder back in place."
"You sure it's not broken?" Katrina asked.
"I'm sure, I popped it out myself."
"You did what? Never mind, what do I need to do?"
He removed the sling and soon they had it back in place. The relief was sweet.
John sat up and Katrina put a hand on his leg. "Sit a minute you took a nasty fall."
"The guy who set that bomb off is still out there."
"He won't get far.”
John looked between them, puzzled.
Coles spoke up. "We saw a skiff beached just out of sight of the house. I knew something was up, so I cut his gas line and called in some help."
"Do you have your gun on you?" John asked. "Mine went up with the house."
Coles reached around her back and pulled it out. "Sure, but I'll bet money he is rowing as hard as he can to get away. A blast like that won't go unnoticed."
"Let's go see, help me up."
John's nose burned where he had scraped it, but otherwise he was okay. They went outside.
The house was a total smoldering loss, but other than some debris damage, the boathouse and outbuilding looked okay.
They walked the short distance to where the man had beached his boat.
It was gone.
17
John, Katrina and Coles stood at the spot on the beach where the man's skiff was supposed to be, straining to see if they could spot him out on the water. Gulls were crying overhead but John ignored them. They probably thought he would give them food like Clarissa and Pedora had been doing. The breeze brought the smell of smoke trailing past them.
"He can't get far rowing. Can I use your boat," John asked Coles.
She tossed him the key. "Sure, but we are coming with you."
"You both risked your lives coming out here and I appreciate that, but I would never forgive myself if you were hurt, so I'm going alone."
They tried to protest, but John left them standing on the beach.
He went back to the boathouse, climbed aboard Coles’s boat and took off. John didn't believe for a moment that the man would try to row all the way to Hishu. That would take forever. There was an island close by, and he would bet money that the man would wait there until somebody could come and get him.
The boat kicked up spray as John powered across the water toward the island. He didn't see the man's boat until he reached the shoreline. It sat beached on the smooth sandy shore. John ran aground next to it keeping his eyes on the tree line for movement.
He dropped over the side onto the sand. There was still no movement. Surely his approach had been heard.
Weapon in hand, he carefully followed the footsteps in the sand that led into the underbrush.
He could see where a path had been broken through the bushes, but didn't hear any movement except the flock of gulls overhead.
Damn gulls!
John pushed forward, following the trail, with every nerve on end. He stepped lightly, avoiding anything that would crack under his feet.
A shot shattered the silence, narrowly missing his head. Bits of leaves showered around him. A second shot hit his left arm, spinning him around and knocking him to the ground.
Pain flared, and his vision flashed white in agony. John instinctively fired two shots in the direction of his attacker and then put pressure on his arm.
He quickly checked the wound. No bone had been hit, so he counted himself lucky.
He could hear twigs breaking off to his right, headed away from him.
John tore his shirt and made a bandage to control the bleeding. He could still use his arm, but it hurt badly.
The breaking noises stopped. John made a note of the position and stood quietly. He was sure his attacker wasn't more than a hundred yards away, so he circled around to the left, moving very slowly and making sure not to make a sound. Fortunately the underbrush wasn't as thick this way.
After what seemed an eternity of straining his muscles to be quiet, John stopped. Sweat poured from every pore. He had worked himself to a spot uphill of the man’s postion.
John squatted down and peered through the leaves in hope of finding his prey. His heartbeat thumped in his ears, and he felt as if his breathing could be heard a mile away. Muscles twitched involuntarily from the exertion.
He couldn't hear any movement except those damn gulls overhead through the canopy of
trees. He shook his fist in the air at them. They had to be the same ones from his house.
John froze as he felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed against his back.
"How did you get out of that house?" the man growled.
"Magic."
At that moment a jumper flew over the island. John raised his head and saw that the other man had too. John dove to the right from his crouched position. The man’s weapon fired, missing. John spun and fired.
As he landed, John hit his head on a root and blacked out.
18
John drifted back to consciousness. He was on a stretcher being loaded into a jumper. Two men in white medical uniforms gently placed him onto the floor. He could hear voices outside.
"Is he going to be okay?" a voice asked. He was pretty sure that was Katrina.
Victoria answered. "Doc says he will make it. Let us take him in and fix him up. You can see him later."
Footsteps, and then the ramp closed with a hiss. Victoria sat on a bench next to him.
"I see you're back with the living. That girl is really shaken up."
John tried to speak, but it came out in a raspy grunt. "Is he dead?"
Victoria shook her head. "No, he’ll live, you just punctured one of his lungs. His name is Maynard Bricker, a known assassin wanted in at least three sectors." John tried to sit up. "You have a concussion, so be still. We were fortunate to find you so fast.”
“How did you?”
“A bunch of gulls hovering over the trees led us to you. You are going to be fine, so relax and get some rest."
John nodded gently and drifted off.
A week later, John sat in Victoria's office. His wounds were healing nicely. He shook his head in amazement at a commendation from the Hishu council.
"What is this all about?" John asked, holding up the plaque.
Victoria sat behind her desk across from him. "Just the council's way of saying thanks for figuring out who killed Councilor Ashton. Besides, you did everybody a favor when you shot Bricker. With him in custody, the planet is a safer place. What are you going to do about your house?" she asked.
John sat the plaque on the desk in front of him. "I haven't decided yet. I'll go back to living on the boat for now."
Victoria shifted in her chair. "How did Cornwall take the news about his daughter’s death?"
"As well as could be expected I guess. Losing your child must be awful, especially if you're the reason it happened. We haven't heard the last of that."
Victoria looked at him with a grave expression. "John, you need to leave Cornwall and anything to do with those casino directors alone."
"Why?"
"Every so often they have a war, and you don't want to get in the middle."
John didn't say anything because he didn't want to antagonize her, but someone out there had hired Bricker to kill him, and he was going to find out who.
THE END
Thanks for reading!
I’m starting a new series with the smuggler Gabham Nash. Try it out for free , follow link below.
FREE STORY
FREE STORY
Please leave review even if the book has thousands already, Constant reviews are the lifeblood of any book, especially for independent authors.
Thanks.
19
Also available
VIATA ADVENTURE SERIES
THE CHRONICLES OF GABHAM NASH SERIES
