by Milly Taiden
Ivan bent over and kept running.
This was no rescue--didn’t the good guys ask first then shoot? Leah peeked over the top of the white rail. The small boats bounced through the waves. The motors’ high-pitched hums wound down. Several darkly clothed figures stood in the slowing vessels.
Her heart pounded as her brain tried to think. The duel engine motorboats maneuvered in the ship’s wake at least twenty feet below the main deck. She ducked her head and sat against the hot metal. Unless they could fly, how would they climb the side? Maybe they were safe after all.
Directly overhead, a three-claw hook the size of a basketball sailed over the handrail and snapped back toward her face. Her body dove to the side--but not fast enough. The claw slid over her collarbone and sank into soft shoulder tissue. Searing pain encompassed her upper body. Leah screamed and pulled away, tearing her body from the sliding hook.
Her dress ripped at the shoulder and blood darkened the powder-puff material. She pulled down the fabric onto her arm. It wasn’t as bad as she imagined. It still needed stitches. Ugh, she hated needles and everything associated with them.
When the grappling locked onto the railing, Leah scrambled to her feet and peered over. A man in one of the visitors’ boats stepped onto the first rope-ladder rung attached to the hook. She had to do something. Adrenaline drowned any pain and fear. A few steps away, the chair that cradled her seconds ago sat in the sun. She picked up the lightweight lounger, stepped up to the railing, and flung it at the guy on the ladder. Strike! The chair smashed into the man’s head, knocking him off the rope.
She ran for the other chair next to the umbrella table. She hurried back and tossed it over. The man climbing the rope extended his arm and knocked the projectile away. Several feet away, another grappling flew over the rail and hooked.
She spun around, desperate for a weapon. She ran to the table and yanked on the umbrella. It slid a few inches, but didn’t come out. Dammit, this wasn’t the time to play tug-of-war. Grabbing the bound yellow material and pole, Leah bolted with the table in tow. She slammed the aluminum stand against a rusty container box, jarring the umbrella free.
A man’s head popped over the rail. She swung. The umbrella’s hard plastic tip hit him squarely in the temple. The fragile skull bone caved in, and he fell backward.
The next man on the ladder dashed to the top. She jabbed at him, but he grabbed the umbrella’s tip and jerked her side to side. With tired arms, she tugged on the pole. On the other rope, men dressed in black flipped over the side and onto the deck. One pointed his assault rifle at her the same time the man on the ladder released the umbrella. She stumbled backward toward the container stacks. The umbrella jolted from her hands, and she felt her feet come out from under her. Fear clouded her mind. Who was going to save them? “Otso! Where are you?”
Across the deck, the door leading to the crew’s quarters flung open. Single shot and semi-automatic machine guns erupted. Leah plunged to the deck, smashing her bloodstained arm. Razors raced to her fingers. Fucking hell that hurt.
More men clambered over the ship’s side. Others fell onto the wood decking, dead. Leah covered her ears and scooted toward the side aisle.
Her mind flashed to a time twenty years ago. Explosions shook the bathroom doorknob she was turning. Her small hand snapped back as if touching a hot coal. One blue eye, one brown eye. Silver double barrels. Gun shots. Daddy lying at her feet, a bloody mass on the hall floor. He abandoned her, left her to face the anger and retaliation on her own. She hated him.
She screamed with the same panic, fear, and helplessness she had two decades ago.
One of the men looked at her and grinned. She launched to her feet, knocking the umbrella table into the aisle. She hurtled it, jarring her shoulder, and sprinted down the corridor. Dodging poles, ropes, and deck cleats, she ran toward an open door. If she could lock it behind her… A hand grabbed her right arm and yanked her off her feet.
Leah punched and kicked a tall, slender man. A few feet behind him, Ivan jumped off a low stack of containers. What was he doing? She told him to stay in his room. The dark-skinned invader pulled a gun from under his shirt. Leah kicked his crotch and slapped the weapon from his hand. Ivan watched it land next to a yellow cargo box then he kicked their attacker.
The invader dug his hand into Ivan’s hair and swung the boy toward the railing. “No!” She lunged, hoping to grab a hold of his leg, but was only able to swat the boy’s red sneaker. His foot snapped to the deck, and the double-knotted shoestrings hooked over a cleat. Ivan tore from the strong arms and crashed to the metal grating. The man roared like a beast denied its food.
Leah rushed up the aisle, snatched the aluminum umbrella table, and dashed back. The man had Ivan around the waistband and back of his T-shirt, tugging and yanking. The shoestrings held.
Adrenaline pumping, Leah slammed the aluminum table over the man’s head. He stopped cold and collapsed on top of Ivan. The boy scurried from under the load. Leah tossed the table to the side and hooked onto to the vandal’s arm. “Pick him up!”
Ivan unwrapped his sneaker from the cleat and grabbed the other arm and they tossed the man overboard. “I told you to stay in the cabin.”
He cocked his head. “I’m saving your ass.”
“Watch your mouth. I can take care of myself.” At the end of the aisle, several other men dove into the water. Gunfire stopped. “Stay here.” Leah darted toward the battlefield. Seeing the carnage, she slapped her hand over her dangling mouth. Bodies lay scattered. Smoke floated like heavy fog settling on land before daybreak. Burnt gunpowder coated her tongue.
She scanned the area for Otso, but everyone looked the same through the hazy shadows. She looked back at Ivan untucking his T-shirt and wondered if he should see the massacre. Leah knew the nightmares one dead man left with her.
Deckhands ran to the railing and unloaded their guns on the fleeing speedboats. Leah grabbed Ivan’s hand and swept him through their surreal surroundings toward the deckhouse door. He would be safe, locked inside his room.
Otso and Axel stepped out from behind containers on the other side of the ship. Leah almost cried out with relief. They were safe; everything would be okay.
An explosion behind her jolted her body forward. She covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. Moving blindly, her foot lodged under something squishy. Her eyes popped open and stared at a dead body at her feet.
“GET DOWN!” Otso’s voice pounded in her head. Not a problem getting down for her. Momentum carried her over the corpse and gravity slammed her onto the decking. A barrage of bullets flashed over her head. What was happening?
Two men dressed in black, carrying rifles, slipped through the deckhouse door.
SEVENTEEN
Smoke from spent casings wafted above the top deck. Wind blew the gaseous ash from the burning speedboats. Blood and bodies littered the lounge area. Splayed appendages made the bodies look like they were catching a few rays, except they were completely covered, exposing no skin.
After tripping over a body, Leah rolled against a stairwell. Otso and several guys plowed through the doorway vacated by the unwanted visitors. Ivan and Maricio rushed to her.
“Maricio, what’s happening? Who were those men?”
Maricio glanced over his shoulder at the deck. “Those men are pirates. We hear rumors, but this is first time I see them.”
She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “I must’ve hit my head too hard. For a minute, I thought you said pirates.”
“Sί, señorita. They kill and take everything. Sometimes they keep crew for money. This ship is very lucky we here.”
Leah sat up. “Are you joking? The only pirates are on the other side of Africa—thousands of miles from here.”
Maricio saw the red stain on Leah’s shoulder. “Aye! You need medic room.”
Leah glanced at her injury. Compared to the adrenaline and fear, the gash caused little pain. “It just needs a bandage. The material’s st
opped the bleeding. I’m fine for now.” She raised her good arm to Ivan. “Help me up.”
“No, señorita. You need medicine.”
“Maricio, there’re two mad men running wild, armed with guns. Ivan and I are going to our cabins until this is over.”
Ivan stomped his foot. “I want to help. I have--”
Automatic rifle noise thundered from above. The five-foot windows exploded directly over their heads. Leah grabbed Ivan’s arm and launched them forward into the sun. She passed prone bodies and ran for the nearest door.
Leah stared at the endless white halls and bulkheads. She remembered coming up at least two sets of steps, maybe three.
Ivan stood on the bottom step below the hatch. “Where are we going?”
“They’re in the back part of the ship, so we’re going forward to the laundry room on this side.” After two sets of stairs and several long running hallways, she stopped and leaned against the wall. “Dammit. I’m lost. But we have to be close.” What was she supposed to do? Dad told her to run and hide. That’s what she’d always done. She didn’t know how to fight. But she refused to give up on the only person who ever needed her, trusted her. Determination filled her heart. She wouldn’t fail the boy.
Ivan had been unusually quiet. “Shouldn’t we be worried about the pirate?”
She turned down another hall. “One’s on the bridge and the other is probably trashing the engine or radio room. They’re not worried if the clothes are clean.”
“Bear King probably has them already, right?”
“Just to be safe, we’re staying in the laundry room until we hear the all-clear.” Leah opened a steel door blocking the hallway and stepped onto a platform overlooking a wide abyss.
Metal stairs and catwalks led to different machines and equipment. She heard waves slap against the vessel’s hull. The seaweed-choked anchor chain hung from a porthole high on the wall. Damn! They were at the bow. The laundry room was half a ship behind them.
She sighed and turned to the door. Movement in the dark expanse caught her attention. Several levels down, two men stood on a platform, guns pointed at each other. One was the commander. Her heart leaped into her throat. “Otso!” She slapped a hand over her mouth.
Both men glanced at her. Otso grabbed the pirate’s arm and slammed the hand holding the gun onto the railing. The pirate threw his body against Otso and shoved him down a flight of stairs. The man leapt over the railing and disappeared into the dark.
“Hannes!” Leah sprinted to the closest aisle. Ivan remained at the door, staring into the blackness. “Ivan, come on!” She lunged down steps toward the landing. In her mind, Otso’s twisted body laid in a bloody mass--dead because of her. Her fault.
The chalk-outlined body in her childhood home’s hallway flashed in her mind, leaving a burnt negative image to fade away. Her father’s death bed.
Skidding to a stop on the platform, she stared at the bottom steps. Nothing. “I saw him fall…Ivan, do you see him?” She searched the shadows. Where did Otso go? She wiped her hand across her forehead. Ivan hadn’t answered. “Ivan, do you see--” She turned to the platform.
The kid was gone.
“Ivan!” Leah shoved open another steel door and ran down a corridor, into the ship’s belly. Why did he leave? Was he too scared to stay with her? “Ivan!” Apprehension edged more to panic with each empty room and passageway she left behind.
Maybe he was going to his cabin or looking for the laundry room. It didn’t make sense that he’d go without her, but it was the only hope she could conjure. “Ivan! Where are you?” Cargo hold after hold, vacant room after room, quiet hall after hall—no sign of him.
After turning the next corner, Leah stopped. Halfway down the aisle, the laundry door stood open. She heard a voice floating in the passage. Her brows raised high; he found the room by himself. Her arched brow lowered into a scowl. She squeezed her fists and pursed her lips. When she got her hands on him, she’d kill him.
Her fingers rubbed the stitch in her side from running, slowing her progress. “Ivan, you’re so dead right now!” She raised her voice making sure he heard her coming.
Stepping into a hallway juncture, a dark figure charged from the side aisle. He smacked into her, knocking her to the floor. Leah’s head slammed into his knee, sending her reeling.
The dark blur scrambled behind her. A warm pressure encircled her neck, smashing her throat as he pulled her to her feet. His foreign words jumbled in her head like baby talk, but the hard, cold object against her temple said everything. Her vision focused on Otso, ten feet away with a pistol pointed at her.
The pirate stepped back, forcing Leah along. Otso slid forward. The chokehold tightened. “Put gun down, or I kill her.” The pirate’s deep, hoarse voice frightened her. The gunman jabbed Leah in the head with the gun. A sharp pain raced over her skull. She winced and gritted her teeth.
This was the end. Otso had no reason to save her. He was probably sighing a relief for the ship raider to take care of her. If not, he’d have to do something before they reached Spain, anyway.
“Put gun down.” Her captor’s body trembled against Leah’s back.
Otso’s eyes moved and he spread his arms. “Okay, take it easy.”
Her eyes bugged. What the hell was he doing? Otso lowered his hands to the floor and released the weapon. “Now, let her go.” He spoke perfect American dialect.
Chaos filled Leah’s head. Why would he bargain for her life? He had to get rid of her eventually.
The man laughed. “Stupid American. I kill her and you.” A touch of humor sounded in his voice. He pointed the gun at Otso. “Who first?” The barrel snapped back to Leah’s head. Her body trembled also. The man waved his gun back and forth as if playing Eeny Meeny Miny Moe. His arm stopped. “You first.”
A blast echoed off the walls, drowning Leah’s scream. The man violently jerked forward, bouncing his chin off her head. Another bout of pain cascaded down the back of her cranium. A heavy weight pressed on her shoulders. The lifeless body crumpled on top of her, pinning her to the deck.
She shoved the sagging corpse, but even in death he refused to let go. She pushed and kicked. Any bravery dissolved into sobs. “Get it off!” Hands gripped under her arms. Who had her now?
Down on one knee, Hannes lifted her shoulders and pulled her free. Terror gave way to relief and exhaustion. She was tired of being manhandled, tired of fighting for her life, tired of her mind in hysterics. Her drained body crawled into his waiting arms.
“It’s okay,” he murmured into her hair. “I got you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” His hold felt so secure, so safe. He whispered calming words while he cradled her head against his shoulder. She melted into him. All she sensed was the man wrapped around her: his powerful body, the scent of his musky skin, his gentle touch. Her soul wanted--needed--this second to last forever.
Icy chills shattered the serenity. Korhonen stood in the hall intersection with his gun aimed above their heads. His twisted, snarling face froze her in place. Realizing she owed her life to that monster for shooting the pirate, her heart skipped a beat. Would he want something in return?
Hannes’ body stiffened. He wrapped his hands around her arms and held her away from him. “Sober up. We have another situation to deal with.”
The soothing words were gone. What happened to the sensitive, caring man here seconds ago? She looked into his cold eyes. Her overloaded mind played a cruel trick on her.
He turned her around. Glancing at the back of the pirate’s pulverized head, she cringed. Back of the head? Korhonen was in front of the body.
Leah searched the shadows behind the cadaver. Ivan stood like a stone statue holding a smoking gun pointed at Korhonen.
EIGHTEEN
Leah forced air into her lungs. Her ears still rang from the gun’s explosion contained in the narrow hallway. Viscous red liquid dripped from the pirate’s open skull next to her foot. The figure in the shadows alarmed her. No emotion f
lowed from Ivan’s wide, blank eyes. The gun wobbled in his shaking hand. Korhonen didn’t need a reason to kill her or the boy, but this would be justification. Leah twisted away from Otso and rose to her feet. “Ivan, sweetie . . .”
The robotic arm pivoted the gun at her. Movement back in the hallway drew the weapon’s aim away. She stepped forward. “Ivan, honey. It’s Leah. Remember me?”
The boy’s face softened and his arm lowered.
“That’s it, sweetie. Put the gun down.”
Tears welled in his glazed eyes, and the weapon fell from his hand. She dashed to him and wrapped her arms around him, cradling his head against her uninjured shoulder. “It’s over. We’re safe. Everything’s okay.” Her body rocked him while she patted his back.
A brush of cool air tickled Leah’s ankle. Otso stood and tucked the discarded weapon behind his back. He sucked in a quick breath, frightening her. She pulled away from Ivan, expecting something horrific. “What now?!”
Otso stood, staring down on her blood soaked shoulder. She smirked. “You’re just now noticing that?” With adrenaline draining away, she felt the dull pain.
“Forgive me, Princess. I’ve been a little preoccupied recently.”
Leah stepped away from Ivan, rolling her eyes. “It’s not nearly as bad as it looks. Don’t call me princess.”
Otso slapped his hand onto Ivan’s shoulder and gripped it. “You okay, kid?”
Ivan’s eyes darted between Otso’s and the dead body. “I-I killed him.”
Leah recognized the damaging effects that would haunt the young boy. Her promise to protect him burned fiercely. He would not suffer like she did.
Otso turned the boy’s shoulders to face him. “Listen to me, son. What you did was save two people’s lives. That bastard was going to kill both Leah and me. You did the right thing. You’re a hero.”