Chasing Danger

by Sara Grant

  “I’m not killing a kid,” the guy said as he dragged Mackenzie into the boat.

  With every passing second, my panic multiplied until I saw her swing wide and bash one of the pirates in the face. She was putting up one heck of a fight. I’m pretty sure I’d taught her that. As the dinghy zipped away, the other pirate seized her by the hair and shoved her to the bottom of the boat. They may not want to kill her, but they sure didn’t mind hurting her.

  As Mackenzie’s dinghy skidded over the reef, I spotted the flashing red lights of another dinghy waiting outside the lagoon. Both boats whipped out to the open sea. The bad guys were getting away, and they were taking Mackenzie with them.

  I didn’t think. I raced out of the bungalow towards the island. I had to do something to save Mackenzie. I kept my eye on the vanishing boats. From my vantage point on the elevated pier, I spotted two of the pirates’ dinghies banked on the beach. I hurdled over anything in my way.

  It didn’t matter that it was me against at least four bad guys. I didn’t have a clue what I would do when I caught up to them. I would think of something. I was part soldier and part criminal, after all.

  I ran to one of the remaining dinghies and pushed it into the water. Every muscle in my body hurt, but I wasn’t going to let anything stop me. I leapt in. The dinghy skidded forward. A sharp and swift tug on the pull cord and the engine roared to life.

  I scanned the horizon. A cluster of tiny red lights twinkled up ahead. That had to be the bad guys. The light grew dimmer by the second. I jetted off after them.

  I cut the motor when the dinghies’ red dots slowed and clustered. I floated forward on the momentum of the chase. My eyes adjusted to the moonlight. The outline of a huge luxury yacht took shape – the same yacht Mackenzie and I had nearly rammed with a Jet Ski. If only I’d known then what the guy with the binoculars was planning… It wasn’t the first time I’d wished for a time machine.

  I used the oars that were snapped to the boat to slow myself. I couldn’t risk getting too close. The dinghies were anchored to the back deck of the yacht. A Mackenzie-sized shape was being forced up the stairs that lead to the main deck. It took three of the four men to carry the squirming, shouting girl away. The other baddie disappeared on to the yacht.

  I watched and listened. I was sure the baddies would make a swift escape. They had their money and a hostage. Why would they stick around? But the yacht didn’t move. Then someone must have pulled the master switch because the ship’s lights came on. There were running lights dotted around the boat as well as lights in the portholes. A spotlight illuminated the ship’s name: King’s Ransom. If I got within twenty feet of the boat, I would be spotted.

  I waited, hand on the pull cord, ready to follow the yacht. Nothing happened. I could see dark figures cross the windows on the upper deck, but the yacht was quiet.

  The longer I waited, the more horrible images popped into my brain. They were of Mackenzie and the terrible things they could be doing to her. Maybe they’d discovered she was a geeky genius and wanted her help with techy stuff? If they found out she was the daughter of an officer in the Royalty Protection Command, maybe they would torture her for information? I couldn’t sit here any longer.

  I floated closer, ducking as low as I could while still being able to row with the oars. I felt as if the rest of the world had vanished, and all that remained was me, four bad guys and Mackenzie. I scanned each deck as I drew closer.

  Think like a bad guy, I told myself. My mom was a criminal. Her blood ran through my veins. I’d pretend I was a thief. I was going to have to sneak on to the yacht. What did thieves in the old movies always say – case the joint? I needed to figure out the layout of the ship. I counted four floors – one at sea level, two decks that stretched the length of the yacht, and a smaller level at the top. My best shot of helping Mackenzie was if they dumped her in some room and forgot about her. If someone was guarding her, all I had to defeat him with was the element of surprise. Not as good as a gun or a Taser or even a big stick.

  I made myself very small as my boat shot into the circle of light surrounding the yacht. Something moved on the upper deck. I flattened myself to the bottom of the boat. There it was again. I wrenched the oars back to stop my forward motion. Shadows flickered on one of the middle decks. Had someone seen me? I slowly began to row in reverse. My eyes ached to blink, but I had to stay vigilant. Maybe they hadn’t spotted me. I stopped and bobbed on the surf.

  A nasty stench crashed over me. Fish! Not the kind Dad made with garlic and lemon. This was that gross smell of fish guts. Dad and I went fishing, but I never ever cleaned the fish we caught. I hated the smell of fish innards. The smell overwhelmed me as something splashed into the water near the yacht. Two men were on the top deck tossing buckets of something overboard. Were they dumping evidence?

  I studied the men and the waterfall of gunk splashing into the ocean. I was so busy focusing on the yacht that I didn’t notice my boat drifting back into the light. Oh no! I collapsed on to the floor of the boat, covering my head with my hands in a lame attempt to hide. I sneaked a quick look.

  Both men were staring right at me. I leapt back into the seat and fumbled for the pull cord. The engine wouldn’t start. I kept my eyes glued to the men. Something in one of their hands flashed in the moonlight. The man was holding a knife. The glare of his smile matched the glimmer of the light on the blade. He whipped his arm back. The knife spun through the air. It was heading straight for me. I ducked.

  The knife stabbed the inflatable boat. Air whooshed out making a loud raspberry sound. I opened my eyes. Another knife whipped through the air. I sprang to the other side as it dug into the boat only inches from my head.

  I glanced up at the yacht, expecting to dodge another knife or bullets or rocks, but the two men were gone. I didn’t understand. Why didn’t they finish me off? I counted my blessings, but only for a second. Water gushed over the deflating sides. My dinghy was sinking. I tried to balance on what was now an oversized surfboard, but it was no use. The air hissed out and rocked me back and forth. I toppled over. My feet tangled with the rope, oars and floppy sides. I pushed myself away, afraid I’d be dragged down with the dinghy. I kicked at the boat’s debris until I was clear of the wreckage.

  I trod water. If I swam to the boat, they would capture me for sure. No element of surprise. No hope of saving Mackenzie or myself. There was no way I could swim back to the island. I was as good as dead.

  I didn’t want to drown. I took one strong stroke towards the yacht. My hand struck something and then something else knocked into my side. The rancid raw fish smell overwhelmed me again. Bits pinged against my arms and chest. I had floated into the slick of blood and fish bits that the bad guys had tossed into the water. I gagged and choked back the bile rising in my throat. I was coated in fish guts.

  I screamed not only because I was the centre of a disgusting sushi roll but also because I sensed movement below me. Then I saw it – a fin cutting through the water. It wasn’t the frolicking fin of a dolphin this time.

  SHARK!!!

  No, not just one shark. I could feel the water boiling below me.

  Terror crackled through my body in a way I had never felt before. My body went limp, and I was pretty sure in that second my heart stopped beating. The bad guys weren’t going to stab or drown or shoot me. They’d thought of something much worse. They were going to let the sharks kill the kid.

  Everything came into sharp focus. I aimed myself like a bullet at the ship. With each stroke of my arms and flick of my legs, I imagined the jagged jaws of the creatures chasing me. I swam faster. My hand whacked the deck and groped for something I could hold on to. My fingers curled around the rope that was securing one of the dinghies to the deck.

  I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t help it. I made the supreme mistake of looking behind me. The fin was as big as a bicycle tyre and closing fast. My insides were melting. I summoned every ounce of strength and flung my other arm on t
o the deck. I wrapped the ropes around my wrists and pulled with all my might. I raked my body over the edge and flopped on the deck. As I flicked my hair out of my eyes, I saw the shark’s nose rise from the water. Only inches away from me, its monstrous jaws closed around the bait. That could have been me.

  I stifled a sob. I was afraid that if I started crying, I’d never stop. I rolled until I smacked the back of the yacht, which was only a few feet from the edge. More sharks joined the feeding frenzy. I counted at least five. Any one of them could easily chomp the little deck and me in one gulp – a Chase Armstrong pizza.

  I scrambled up the stairs. I stopped before I reached the top, slowly raising myself so I was eye-level with the deck. I waited and watched. When I was convinced no one was coming, I crouched down on the deck. I recalled the many times Dad and I played paintball with his Navy buddies and their sons. I was always the only girl on the field – and, according to my dad, one of the best players. He taught me how to assess threats and be strategic with my ammo. Most guys’ strategy was run and gun, but that’s usually not what won the game. Thoughtful and calculated risks. We’d lie in wait and pick off our opponents one by one.

  I scanned the ship again. I tiptoed to one side and peered around the corner. The coast was clear. I found the stairs and climbed up. I checked left and then right before I crawled on to the deck. I felt far enough away from the sharks. The absolute terror from only moments ago still singed my insides. I was no use to Mackenzie or anyone in this state. I needed to find a place to hide so I could calm down and figure out my next move. There were at least four men on the ship who had already proved that they would do whatever it took to stop me. Anyone who could use a teen girl as shark bait was pretty much capable of anything.

  At the back of the ship, I spotted a bar area with leather and chrome stools lined up neatly in a row. I would have been impressed with this gorgeous yacht – if I didn’t think I might die here. I slipped behind the counter and collapsed on to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest.

  Except for his little training exercises, my dad had always made sure my life was lacking any excitement and absolutely any danger. Today I’d had enough action for a lifetime and my adventure wasn’t over yet. I hated to admit that part of me – the part beat up, blown up and nearly devoured by a shark – wanted to hide out here. Maybe they would never find me. Maybe I could sneak off when they docked somewhere – and they’d have to dock somewhere, wouldn’t they? But that was a coward’s way out.

  Just when I thought I might regain my sanity, I heard footsteps. It was only one person and they were walking agonizingly slowly. I tucked myself under the counter and merged with the shadows. The footsteps stopped. I calculated that the man was probably only a few feet away. I glanced up at the glass case behind me. I rose as high as I dared to see his reflection. He was peering over the railing into the shark-infested waters. Was he checking to see if the pesky girl was floating face down and being nibbled by sharks?

  All I had was the element of surprise. I had to act first before he saw me. I sprang from my hiding place and rammed him hard from behind. The force of my attack shocked and unbalanced him. He flew over the railing. I grabbed for him, but my fingers found only air. I hadn’t meant to send him over the edge. He screamed as his body splashed into the water. I dived back behind the bar and crouched down. I couldn’t think about him in that water. “I’m so sorry,” I murmured over and over. It was him or me, I told myself. He hadn’t cared when he’d made me shark bait. Mixed with my guilt was a tiny dark part of my mind saying, one down, three more to go.

  More footsteps. This time the baddie was running and calling for Kyle. I didn’t want to know the name of the guy I’d fed to the sharks. The man stopped in front of the bar. I checked his reflection. He bowed over the railing shouting for his friend. I picked up one of the bar stools. The sound of the chair scraping the deck made the man turn, but I had the jump on him. I levelled the stool at his head. The impact caused us to jolt backwards. He stumbled into the railing and bounced back towards me.

  “You!” he spat.

  I raised the stool high. He charged at me as I let it drop. The blow landed on his back. He collapsed to the deck, but only for a second. He hauled himself up. Adrenaline flooded through me. I didn’t hesitate, hitting him again and again. With each blow, the guy sank lower and lower until he was huddled at my feet.

  He stopped fighting.

  I stopped hitting.

  A weird calmness came over me. Think like a criminal, like my mom, I told myself. Maybe these criminal instincts could save me and Mackenzie.

  I rushed down to the lower deck and stole some rope from one of the dinghies. I had to work quickly before the guy came around. I dragged him behind the bar that had been my hiding place. I looked for a gag and found a hand towel, which I stuffed into his mouth, and tied him up good and tight. I knew about knots. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  Two down!

  My odds were definitely improving. If I was right, the ship was virtually empty: just two conscious baddies, Mackenzie and me. I was on the move. I bobbed slowly and carefully at each window to see what was inside. This was like a floating penthouse – or how I imagined a penthouse would be. Everything gleamed, from the crystal chandeliers to the marble floors. It sure beat my dumpy, zillion-year-old house. If I survived, my new life’s goal would be to have a yacht like this one day – minus the thieves, kidnappers and would-be murderers, of course.

  The yacht was eerily silent. I found the staircase to the top level and scampered up. I checked left and then right. No one was in sight. I figured the bridge – where the captain controlled the ship – must be at the front. The ship wasn’t moving, but I bet at least one of the bad guys would be there. The only light on this level came from the final window up ahead.

  “Shut up!” a man barked. “Stop crying!”

  He had to be talking to Mackenzie. I ever so slowly inched towards the lit window and peeked through the corner. Mackenzie was slumped on the floor, her wrists and ankles bound. Her eyes were red and her face was streaked with tears. The final two pirates weren’t wearing ski masks any more. That was a bad sign. They didn’t care if Mackenzie could identify them.

  They didn’t look like monsters. The one with the moustache was my dad’s age. The other guy was younger and smaller. He had longish hair. Neither one had any tattoos or scars. They looked like normal, everyday guys I might see in the frozen food section of the grocery store. I wondered what had made them bad. Were their mothers in prison, or were they school teachers or doctors?

  “Let’s get it over with. Kill the kid and dump her with her little girlfriend,” the moustached man said.

  I dropped to the deck. He talked about killing Mackenzie so casually, as if he was suggesting “let’s go to McDonalds”.

  “I think we should demand a ransom,” the other guy said. “I bet we could make more money than they are paying us. She’s got to be worth more alive than dead.”

  “This wasn’t a kidnapping and you know it.”

  I decided the guy speaking was the super-mean baddie and the other guy was just plain bad. “We got half of our money. Now we have to earn it. They won’t pay the other half until we finish the job.”

  “Things haven’t gone exactly as they were supposed to,” Plain Bad said. “I wasn’t supposed to have to kill anyone. The bombs weren’t me either. I was hired to rob bungalows and guard hostages – that’s all. I’m not doing anything to the kid until we hear from the boss – and neither are you.”

  It sounded like they were saying they were paid to kill Mackenzie. That didn’t make any sense. Who would want to kill nerdy ol’ Mackenzie? And they weren’t the masterminds; there was a super-duper bad guy somewhere who had planned everything and had paid these guys to execute his plan.

  I’d heard enough. I tiptoed backwards as Super Bad spoke. “I think––”

  “Wait,” Plain Bad interrupted. “Did you hear something?”

 
The silence that followed nearly suffocated me. If they stepped into the corridor, I’d be caught.

  “I don’t hear anything,” Super Bad said. “You need to calm down. You are making me jumpy. Find Razen and Kyle and let’s get out of here.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do!” Plain Bad shouted.

  While they continued to argue, I bolted to the back of the ship. I shoved open the sliding door that led to the massive living room. I needed to hide, but I also needed to find something to use as a weapon. The room was smooth and shiny with nothing laying around, except four furry blue throw pillows on a cream leather couch. This wasn’t going to be a pillow fight. I squeezed behind the couch and the far wall. The yacht roared to life.

  I heard clunky steps pass by. That must be Plain Bad. At first his steps were slow, but his pace increased until he was running up and down the decks, calling for Razen and Kyle. “They aren’t here!” he shouted up to the bridge.

  “They’ve got to be,” Super Bad’s voice echoed over the ship’s intercom. I jumped in surprise. “Check the dinghies.”

  “I did. All of them are tied to the back,” Plain Bad yelled. “Razen and Kyle are gone!” The lights in the room where I was hiding flicked on. “I can’t find them anywhere.” He was in the room with me. I shrunk as far down into the plush carpet as I could. He kicked at the glass coffee table and mumbled, “Maybe I should take one of those boats and disappear too.”

  “Get back to the bridge!” Super Bad yelled so loudly I could hear his voice over the intercom and from the bridge. Plain Bad turned off the lights and left.

  When I was sure Plain Bad was long gone, I slipped out of the room. I needed a weapon to have any chance of defeating these guys who were about three times my size. I sneaked down to the deck below. There had to be a kitchen around here somewhere, and kitchens have knives. I had been super stealthy, slinking soundlessly about the ship. Now I was bolder because I knew for a fact one baddie was shark bait, one was tied up and Plain and Super Bad were on the bridge. I walked down the corridors like an invited guest.