Her head snaps back. I see the lights go out in her eyes. She falls to the floor, rigid and finished.
I let my head roll back. I look to the ceiling and let out a heavy sigh.
It’s over.
Now, I need to get out of here.
Ever since I left the hospital, I’ve been convinced that this was only ever going to end one way. That me and Ruby getting out of that club before it blew was simply delaying the inevitable. For me, at least. But now I’m here… Kazawa’s dead, Miley’s done… I realize I don’t actually have a way off this boat. I never thought I would survive, so now that I have, I’m a little screwed.
I move to the helm. I’ve never sailed a boat in my life. I have no idea what half of these dials and buttons and levers do. I see a handle that looks like it might be the throttle, but I don’t particularly want to go any faster.
If I can find a cell phone, maybe I can call Ruby or Ray, see if they can…
I hear a noise. Confused, I look around.
You have to be kidding me…
Miley’s not dead. She’s lay on her back, raised slightly, aiming a gun unsteadily at me.
I sigh. “Look, kid, don’t be—”
She pulls the trigger. The impact of the bullet hitting my right shoulder registers almost instantly. I stagger back, quickly losing my footing. I don’t feel anything from the gunshot. Time has slowed to a crawl, which is usually my spider sense telling me I’m missing something important. Maybe the fact I can’t feel anything is a bad sign.
Maybe this is it. Maybe I’ve finally been beaten down enough that I can no longer fight back. Maybe I’m done.
As I fall back, I reach behind me for my Raptor.
Well, if I’m done, you can bet your ass I’m taking her with me.
I aim as best I can and pull the trigger as I hit on the floor. The landing jolts my body, and the gun flies from my grip. My breathing is shallow. I lift my head and look over to see if I hit her.
I see the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She’s holding her hand up to her head.
Did I… did I get her?
I shuffle my body around and use my left arm to push myself up on all fours. I crawl toward her, pausing every couple of feet to press my hand to my shoulder in a feeble attempt to heal myself.
I reach her and stare down into her dark eyes. They’re wide and full of fear. Her breathing is fast. The right side of her head and her shoulder is drenched in blood. There’s a thin but significant spray behind her, covering the floor. Her hand is clamped to the side of her neck.
I reach down and lift her hand away, to see the wound.
Damn…
It wasn’t the best shot I’ve ever taken. I should’ve put it between her eyes. It went through and through, but appears to have nicked an artery on the way.
I place her hand back over it.
“Keep pressure applied to it, and you’ll slow the bleeding,” I say to her. “Move at all and you’ll bleed out in a minute. Maybe two.”
Miley reaches over and grabs my arm with her left hand, just below the fresh bullet hole in my shoulder.
“This… this isn’t… over, Adrian,” she manages.
I calmly remove her hand. “Yes, it is. You tried playing a dangerous game with the most dangerous player, and you lost. Now you get to lie here and think about that for the rest of your life. All thirty minutes of it. Goodbye, Miley.”
I push myself up, holding my right arm close to my body as I apply my own pressure to the bullet wound. I shuffle back over to the helm, aware that the adrenaline is subsiding and I’m starting to feel every single thing that’s happened to me in the last twelve hours with mind-blowing clarity.
I need to find a way off this boat.
Miley coughs and splutters. I look over to see her staring at me.
“No… Adrian. It’s not… over.” Her gaze shifts to the door behind me that leads outside. She smiles, which looks more like a grimace. “Fuck… you.”
I raise an eyebrow.
That doesn’t sound good.
I move over to the door and look out the small window.
It’s dark. I can’t see shit. I can barely make out the ocean around us. I can tell it’s still stormy. Not sure if it’s raining or if that’s the mist from the sea all over the windows. Thunder is still rumbling, though. And lightning. Just seen a flash in the sky, behind the clouds. It lit up the ocean for a long moment. I could see—
“Fuck me!”
I look back at Miley. She’s laughing.
There are two boats docking with the port side of the yacht. Big things, like mini hovercrafts. There was at least six people on each one. Maybe more—I only caught a brief look.
I can’t fight them all. I can barely move.
Shit.
I look back out. It’s too dark to see anything again now, but I reckon I have no more than a couple of minutes before they swarm the bridge.
I stare at the floor until my vision glazes over. I’m running through every option I have.
What have I got? What have I done? What do I need? What can I do?
…
…
…
I refocus as the only path I have left to walk becomes clear. I think, subconsciously, I knew it would always come to this.
I scoop up my empty Raptor and holster it behind me. I turn and stride past Miley, not even bothering to look at her as I leave the bridge and head back in the navigation room. I walk with haste. What I must do now isn’t something I’m happy about. I know that if I slow down at all, logic will take over, and I’ll stop completely. I can’t afford for that to happen.
I don’t want to do this, but I do want to live. I want to see Ruby again. I want to be happy. And all that trumps the insane thing I’m about to do.
I quickly descend the steps down to the starboard corridor and duck into the first room. The armory. I ignore the guns. I don’t have the energy for a firefight with a dozen more Yakuza soldiers, even if I do have the bullets. I grab the belt of grenades and head back out, taking the steps up the main deck.
I have to be quick and quiet here. I can’t afford to—
An orchestra of gunfire erupts over the noise of the storm. Countless muzzle flashes flicker in and out of existence, seemingly all around me.
“Fuck me!”
I crouch, pausing for a split-second as I consider retreating back to the armory.
No.
I’m done. Whether this works or not, I’m done here.
I take a deep breath. And another.
I look over at the door to the rec room and kitchen, illuminated by the persistent flames of the wrecked speedboat. It’s maybe twenty-five, thirty feet…
The gunfire isn’t even pausing for breath.
Here goes nothing. Or everything. Whatever.
Grenade belt in hand, I set off running as fast as my body will allow. I get a slight boost from the incentive of not wanting to be torn to shreds by bullets, but I’m still nowhere near as fast as I can be.
Bullets pepper the deck beneath my feet and ricochet off everything around me that’s metal. I raise my arm to cover my head, as if that will make any difference.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
I make it to the crates, but I don’t stop or even slow down. I jump onto the raised platform and throw the door open to the rec room.
Jesus!
I stagger slightly, hit by a wave of gas. The smell collides with me like a brick wall.
Didn’t think I made the hole in the piping that big…
I take one deep breath, which makes me feel a little woozy, drop my head, and continue running at full speed across the room. As I reach the door on the other side, I pull a pin from one of the grenades and throw the belt down into the engine room as I sprint past.
Three seconds, max.
I run along the narrow corridor.
Three…
I push through the door at the end, shoulder first, bursting out onto t
he walkway overlooking the stern.
Two…
Without breaking stride or concerning myself with whether I can physically do it, I place a hand on the railing. I jump up onto it, planting my feet for balance.
One…
I push off as hard as I can. The height helps me clear the loading space below, where I first boarded. I bring both arms up in an arc, so my hands meet above my head. I reach the apex of my dive when—
BOOM!
The explosion behind me sounds like nothing I’ve ever heard before.
The noise and the power behind it are terrifying.
The force of the blast throws me farther than I ever could have jumped. I twist in mid-air, milliseconds before I hit the water, in time to see the rec room and the chopper parked on top of it disappear in a small mushroom cloud of fire and devastation.
I land in the water shoulders-first, plunging into the icy depths.
The trick in cold water is to not panic. The more you move, the faster you bring on cardiac arrest from the shock to your system. You have to remain calm and keep movement to a minimum.
Not an issue for me. I couldn’t move anymore, even if I wanted to.
The heat from the explosion feels as if it’s boiling the ocean around me. I lie motionless, holding on to the last breath I think I’ll ever take. A rippling haze of orange and yellow dominates the world around me.
I feel myself floating. An overwhelming sense of peace floods into my body.
The world grows dark.
I told Kazawa that, one day, I knew I would meet the person destined to take me out. Perhaps today was that day, after all. I feel nothing. No pain. No suffering. Just… sweet, peaceful nothing.
The world seems mostly dark now.
I feel myself smile.
Not a bad way to go, I guess.
…
…
…
I see a bright light above me. Brilliant and white. They say that’s what you see, at the end. That you should move toward it. Well, it seems to be moving toward me, but given I’m probably drowning, maybe some higher power is taking pity on me and helping me out a little.
It’s more than I deserve.
An image of Ruby flashes into my mind. I see her floating in front of me, as clear as day. Her smile. Her laugh. Her green eyes.
If she’s the last thing I ever see, I can leave this world a happy man.
You’ll be okay, Ruby. I promise. You’ll be just…
…
…
…
…fine.
32
October 26, 2019 – 10:24 JST
“There he is,” says a familiar voice. “How ya doin’, buddy?”
I frown, mostly because I’m confused, but also to squint against the bright light assaulting my eyelids.
What the hell is happening right now?
Am I dead?
If I am, Heaven sounds a lot like Ray Collins.
God help us…
I tentatively open my eyes, keeping them screwed narrow until I’m sure they won’t be singed out of their sockets by the light.
My head’s resting to the right. The first thing I see is Collins’s face, smiling down on me.
I swallow hard, trying to get enough moisture to allow my mouth to work, but it feels like someone’s scraping razorblades around my throat.
“Please tell me I’m not dead,” I say to him.
He laughs. “Far from it, my friend. I mean, ya look like shit, but you’re definitely alive.”
I breathe a sigh of relief.
Hang on…
“How, exactly?”
“Because your friend here is almost as bat-shit crazy as you are,” answers another familiar voice. This one sounds softer, more comforting. Better looking.
I turn my head to the left and see Ruby. Her eyes are like jewels, wide and happy and glistening, but I see the concern behind them. Her smile is as much out of relief than anything else.
I move my hand up to her face. As I hold her cheek, she places her own hand on mine and leans into my palm slightly.
“Where am I?” I ask her.
“In a private medical facility just outside Tokyo,” she says.
I look around. Everything’s white and clean. Lots of technology. A couple of nurses at the opposite end of the large room.
“GlobaTech?”
She nods and gestures to the room. “Who else?”
I smile. “Yeah. So, are you okay?”
She shakes her head. Her smile broadens. “I’m fine, you idiot.”
“W-what happened?”
“Hey, all in good time, fella,” says Collins. “I think ya need to rest up some more. Ya went through a hell of a thing.”
He steps away, but I reach out to make him stop.
“No, wait. I need to know.” I shuffle up the bed, ignoring the massive amount of discomfort as I prop myself semi-upright against the pillows. “What happened to the boat? To Miley? How did I get here?”
Collins chuckles. “All right, slow down, partner. One thing at a time.”
He nods to Ruby. I turn to her expectantly.
She takes a deep breath. “After you took off from the warzone outside Kazawa’s building, more cops showed up. Actual cops, by all accounts. A lot of Kazawa’s men were arrested. Some of Akuma’s people were too.”
“And Akuma?” I ask.
“He took off in the chaos. I think Ichiro went to see him yesterday.”
“Yesterday? How long have I been out?”
“About thirty-six hours,” says Collins.
“Jesus…”
Ruby continues. “So, as the scene was diffused, Colin Farrell over here made a call to his GlobaTech friends and got a chopper to come and pick us up. Figured it was the fastest way to find you.”
Collins laughs. “Farrell? I’ll take that! Thanks, sweetheart.”
She sighs. “Ray, I swear to God…”
I roll my eyes. “All right, the pair of you, quit flirting. I’m awake now.”
We all share a moment of laughter and respite.
“What happened with you?” Ruby asks me.
“I made it to the docks, where Kazawa’s chopper was landing on the biggest yacht I’ve ever seen. I managed to jump aboard as it was pulling away. I swept through it and took out his security detail.”
“How many?” asks Collins.
I think for a moment. “Um… thirteen, plus Kazawa and Miley.”
“Christ…”
I shrug. “It was them or me. What can I say? So, how did you find me?”
Ruby laughs. “Adrian, sweetie, when you blow up a two-hundred-foot luxury yacht, it’s kinda hard to miss.”
“Ah. Right. Got you.”
“How exactly did you do that, by the way?”
“On my way through, I created a small gas leak in the kitchen, which was right by the engine room. After I finished Miley off, two boatloads of back-up arrived. I figured I couldn’t take them all out as well, so I ran back through the boat and threw a belt of grenades I borrowed from their armory into the engine room on my way past. It seemed to get the job done.”
“Bloody hell… I’ll say!” laughs Collins.
I look into Ruby’s eyes. “I thought I was finished. When I hit the water… I just knew I was done for. It felt even more real to me than in the club. I felt at peace. I’m sorry.”
She frowns. “What are you sorry for?”
“For giving up. For leaving you.”
“Honey, you didn’t give up. You were blown up—there’s a difference. And you didn’t leave me. I’m right here.”
“Can I ask…” says Collins. “What was it like? Ya know, feeling that… peaceful. Thinking it was the end an’ all.”
“It was surreal. I saw the bright light and everything.” I look over at Ruby. “I saw you, clear as anything, right in front of me. It put me at ease. Helped me accept it.”
Her eyes mist over, and she squeezes my hand tightly.
> “You thought that was you dying?” she asks.
“Well, yeah… I did.”
“Oh my God…”
She smiles as a tear escapes down her cheek. She leans over and kisses me. Soft and passionate. It floods my body with warmth and joy and comfort.
She moves away, still smiling.
Collins clears his throat. “So… I’m getting the impression ya not interested in a bit o’ the Irish, babydoll?”
I fail to suppress a laugh. Ruby throws him an evil glare that lasts a few seconds before giving way to a smile. We share another moment of reprieve before Collins claps his hands together.
“Right, I’m gonna leave the pair of ya to it. Honestly, watching the two of ya is kinda makin’ me sick anyway.”
I smile and extend a hand, which he shakes firmly.
“I can’t thank you enough for your help,” I say to him. “You heading back to the States?”
“Tomorrow, maybe. Need to head over to the local branch here, fill out some paperwork, and write up a report for Mr. Buchanan. Who, I imagine, will want a chat with ya at some point.”
I nod. “Of course. I owe him. Twice.”
He looks over at Ruby. “And you… look after our fella here, all right?”
She smiles and moves around the bed toward him. She puts her arms around his neck and gives him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“You’re an asshole,” she says. “But you’re my kind of asshole. Look after yourself, partner.”
He smiles and nods. “Always.”
He gives us both a casual salute before leaving the room.
Ruby sits down on the edge of the bed and takes my hand again.
“Just so you know,” she says. “That bright light you saw, it wasn’t the afterlife. It was the floodlight of the GlobaTech chopper Collins borrowed. And the image of me giving you peace at the end… that was actually me pulling your dumb ass out of the water.”
I laugh, mostly from the relief of discovering I wasn’t quite as finished as I thought. “Really? Damn, that’s… that’s amazing. I owe you my life.”
She rolls her eyes. “Are you kidding me? That doesn’t even bring us close to being square. I’m just glad you’re safe.”
We share a moment of comfortable silence.
“So, what now?” I ask her.
“Now, you stay here and rest. Your body has a lot of healing to do. It’ll take time. And for once, time is what you got.”
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