Knockdown (26 page)

I started making progress.

The girl on the beach screamed in pain. A motorcyclist swore.

I focused all my attention on Takumi and
Whistler
.

The dinghy was already at the boat
.

A deep voice yelled
, “You been stealing from us?”

“Let’s f
ind us a boat and go after them,” another cried.

Takumi remained
calm. “They’re headed back to town. Just take your time.”

I tried not to panic, but if they found a working mot
orboat and came after us, we wouldn’t be able to outrun them. My arms ached. I couldn’t take a real breath.

Finally,
Takumi and I made it to the sailboat.
Whistler
’s engine started.

“U
ntie us from the piling,” Dylan called out.

Nick ran to the bow.
Jervis, with one great yank, pulled me onto
Whistler
. Takumi threw my kayak up to the side decking. The plastic boat bounced and almost fell overboard.

I rested
in the cockpit and caught my breath. At my feet lay piles of muddy bricks. A barbecue sat across from me on the other bench. Takumi, Zoë, Angelina, and Makala joined me.

“All clear,” Nick yelled
.

Dylan
put
Whistler
into reverse and backed away. When we were free of the piling, he adjusted the wheel so we were headed toward the rocky breakwater and the opening to the ocean. “Stay on the bow and check for debris,” he told Nick and Jervis.

We came alongside the
manmade rocky breakwater. I breathed a sigh of relief. No boats were chasing us. Then, from somewhere on shore, a girl shrieked. “Help! Help me!”

We searched t
he rocky wall beside us. “There!” Takumi pointed.

At the far end
of the breakwater, a young woman with purple spiked hair waved her arms. The breaking surf sprayed her with freezing water. She slipped, got up, and began making her way closer to the water. Blood ran down her shin.

The roar of motorcycle engines rose above the sounds of the crashing surf. Two m
en jumped off their bikes and raced after the girl.

“Get back here
, bitch,” a man in black leather screamed.

The girl hid behind a boulder. We were dir
ectly across from her, but over a hundred feet away.

“Help!” She waved her arms.

The two men closed in on her.

“I’m going after the girl
.” Jervis stood.

“No
, you’re not.” Dylan gritted his teeth. “You can’t get close enough. The dinghy will be smashed against the rocks.” Dylan glanced at the girl on shore and shoved the throttle full down. “We’re outta here.”

“
Wait!” I placed my hand on top of his and pulled the throttle back. We slowed to a crawl. “Jervis is right. We have to do this.”

Dylan glared at me.

Jervis ran to the swim step. “The screams of those people we left in Seattle still haunt me. We didn’t have time to help them, but we can save her.” He stared at me with a pained, pinched face. “Please!”

I nodded.

Dylan grabbed my arm. “What are you doing?” He pointed at the town. “Those guys might really find a boat and come after us.”

“Dy
lan, look at her.”

The girl stood and waved
, frantic. Her pleas could barely be heard over the surf.

“It’s what Cole would do,” I whispered.

Dylan slumped at the wheel.

Nick and Takumi hurried to the ding
hy. “We’ll come too.”

Dylan raised his head. “No. H
e can paddle faster without your weight. Just shove him off.” The sailboat slowly drifted further from the breakwater and the girl. “Jervis, if you run into trouble, you’re on your own.”

“Fine,”
Jervis snarled.

Takumi threw the life ring onboard
the dinghy. “Tell the girl to dive out and swim to you. Dylan’s right. Don’t go near those rocks.”

Jervis
paddled hard, but the current was against him. Whistler moved in a slow circle, away, and then back toward the breakwater.

The men were closing in on the girl. She crouched under an overhanging boulder.

“Swim to me.” Jervis motioned to the girl. “Swim to me.”

A huge wave hit the breakwater. The girl stood. Water splashed and poured off
the rocks and her.

“Don’t move.” O
ne of the leather clad men perched on a rock. He held a pistol and fired it in the air. “My next shot won’t miss.”

“He’s got a gun. Everyone below and stay down.” Dylan jammed the throttle full on. “We’ll be out of range in a second.”

Jervis continued to row toward the rocks. “Jump,” he screamed at the girl.

The spiky
-haired girl tottered on a smooth boulder. She glanced back at the man with the gun. He aimed and shot. She dove. We held our collective breath, terrified we’d see her smashed on the rugged rocks. About six feet from the wall she surfaced and started swimming.

Jervis
rowed as fast as he could. Another shot rang out. Jervis crouched low in the boat, but continued to row. The girl was slowing down, her strokes sluggish.

“I told you all to go below
,” Dylan bellowed as
Whistler
hurried out of gunshot range.

“I’m going to get the gun.”
Angelina handed Makala to me and we both stumbled down the cabin steps. “Keep her safe.” She found the gun and raced back up top.

I
hid Makala and Boots back in the bottom of the deep closet. The light was on and I gave them lots of blankets. Makala fought me the whole time screaming, “Sissy!”

“
Stop it. You’re scarring Boots. I handed her two picture books and hurried back up top.

Takumi pushed
me behind him and began to stack the bricks on the bench in front of us. Angelina and Nick stood behind the mast. Angelina leaned to the side of the mast, aimed the gun, and fired.

“Wha
t the hell?” The gunman screamed.

His buddy
ducked hid behind a huge boulder. “They got a gun.”

“Dylan.
” Angelina motioned for him to turn the boat toward the shore. “I’m too far away. Take us in.”

“No way!”
Dylan continued motoring away from the breakwater. “If you can hit them, they can hit us.”

Takumi leapt up
. “Go back. We can’t leave Jervis.”

My brother’s eyes met mine acr
oss the stern. I saw fear and doubt in his face.

“Dylan
.” I signaled for Takumi to get down. “Jervis is family.”

Dylan took a deep breath and glared
at me. “Fine, but if someone on
Whistler
gets hurt, don’t blame me.” He spun the wheel and angled back toward the dinghy.

Takumi returned
to our hiding place and covered me with his body. His muscles were tense and his heart beat fast. With bullets flying around us, I was surprised how safe he made me feel.

The motorcyclists scampered down the rocks
. The gunman aimed his gun at the girl in the water and shot.

Angelina fired back
. Her bullet hit the rocks just above the gunman’s head. He took cover behind a large boulder.

The girl
was no longer swimming. Her body was sinking. All we could see was her head. Then it started to disappear under the surf.

Jervis
crawled to the side of the boat, reached down, and grabbed hold her just as she went under.

Another shot rang out.

“Angelina!” Nick cradled her in his arms. “Angelina’s hit.” He screamed and dragged Angelina behind the mast. “Angelina’s been shot.”

Jervis
twisted around to see
Whistler
. “Angelina,” he wailed.

Angelina pushed Nick aside
, raised the gun, and fired. “I’m okay, Jervis. Help the girl.” She fired twice more.

Another shot rang out from the man on the breakwat
er. Angelina returned fire.

“That’s six bullets.” The gunman stood. “
We got ‘em.” He took aim with both hands, shooting the dinghy and the sailboat. A piece of the dinghy flew into the water. Another shot hit
Whistler
’s decking. Dylan ducked and covered his head.

Jervis
pulled the girl out of the water, draping her body over the side of the little boat. Jervis froze, staring at the limp form.

Angelina
reached into her pocket for the box of bullets, loaded the gun, steadied her arm against the mast, and fired.

The gunman shrieked and grabbed his shoulder. His gun
fell into the cracks between two boulders.

Angelina slumped in Nick’s arms.

“Angelina.” Nick checked her wound. Blood soaked her jacket. “I need some help here!”

I grabbed a towel
, crawled up and over the cabin, and pressed it inside the shoulder of Angelina’s jacket.

“
Jervis.” Dylan motored as close to the rocks as he dared. “The girl’s gone. You did what you could. Let her go. Get back here.”

Zoë
told Nick to bring Angelina below. Nick carried Angelina to the cabin. I helped steady him as he climbed over the lines and hatches. He and Angelina disappeared below. I scurried back to Takumi and my hiding place.

Jervis
checked the girl’s pulse, shook his head, and gently lowered her into the water. She slid back into the dark water. The dinghy was about to crash on the rocks, but Jervis didn’t seem to notice.

The motorcyclists
climbed off the rocks and headed for their bikes, the injured guy leaning on his buddy.

“Jervis, start rowing!”
I yelled. “You’ll get caught on the rocks.”

Jervis sat
, unmoving.

“Damn
it, Jervis. You’re going to crash our new dinghy,” Dylan yelled. “We need it.”

Jervis shook his he
ad and glanced around. In one smooth motion, he pushed off the rocks with the oars, and paddled like mad.

Dylan drove the boat as close to Jervis as he could. Takumi threw a long line. On t
he third try, Jervis grabbed it.

“Tie it onto the front of the dinghy,” Takumi cried as he tied his end to a cleat on the back of
Whistler.

We towed the dinghy away from the rocks and out of the harbor. When we were
well clear, Dylan cut the engine, and we pulled the dinghy in.

“Angelina?”
Jervis grabbed Takumi’s shoulder as he climbed aboard. “Is she going to be…?”

“I don’t know,”
Takumi said.

Chapter Thirty-One

Wounded

I sailed
Whistler
toward the open ocean, then handed the helm to Takumi, and hurried below. The seas were calm.

A
ngelina laid on top of a bare mattress that took up most of the floor space in the main salon. Zoë knelt beside her, pressing a towel on the side of her shoulder. Jervis cradled a whimpering Makala in his arms and paced the room. Dylan watched Zoë.

Zoë
raised the towel off Angelina’s shoulder. Blood oozed out of the wound.

Boots barked from the bottom of the closet.

Zoë pushed the bloody towel back down against Angelina’s shoulder and wept. Her tears dripped on Angelina.

I thought the worst. “Is she…?” I fell to my knees beside them.

Zoë shook her head. “She’s alive. But I can’t get the bleeding to stop.” She wiped her eyes, smearing blood across her face. “I’ve been putting pressure on the wound, but it keeps bleeding. I don’t know what else to do.”

“Let me take over.”
I placed my hand on top of the towel and Zoë pulled her bloody hand out. I pressed down hard. Angelina was unconscious.

We needed a plan.
“Okay, who here watches hospital shows?” I folded over the towel and pressed harder.

Nick,
Jervis, and Dylan stared at me like I was a crazy person.

“
Come on. They actually research how to do real medical stuff for those shows.” I shuddered as a pool of blood began to spread out from under Angelina’s shoulder. “What would a TV doctor do for a gunshot wound?”

“In Westerns, they
place a burning knife in the wound to stop the bleeding,” Jervis said.

I
grimaced. “Cowboy medicine? How about something more modern.”

Zoë
stood at the galley sink, washing her hands. “I watch
Grey’s Anatomy.
”