“It was,” Novak replied. “But the fuckers abandoned us.”
While Novak told Simon about the living island and what had happened to them since, Gail stared at the ship. She felt a surprising sense of homesickness. She’d hated living on the boat, hated the cramped conditions and the complete lack of privacy and having to make nice with people like Morgan, but now, it was something familiar in a literal sea of regret and heartache and terror. It felt like coming home.
“Do you think they mutinied?” Simon asked.
“They had to,” Novak said. “Maybe not all of them, but Morgan certainly would have. And I’m betting he convinced some of the others. If they had enough numbers, it would have been easy for him to do it.”
“Do they have weapons?”
“Yeah.” Novak counted them off on his fingers. “Several rifles and handguns with plenty of ammunition. A couple of shotguns. Plus, there’s machetes and spears and other weapons we fabricated with stuff we found along the way. Hell, they’ve even got a flamethrower.”
“So do we,” Gail said, nodding at Simon.
Novak’s eyes widened with the realization. “That’s true! Can you do that, Simon? Can you, like, shoot fire out of your hands?”
“Not quite.” Simon smiled. “Pyrokinesis doesn’t work that way. But I can use it as a defensive measure in close quarters.”
“Great,” McCann muttered. “So, we’ve got Simon giving them hot flashes, along with a bunch of letter openers and box-cutters and my dull-ass sword, against their guns. Sounds like a fair fight.”
“We’ll see,” Simon said. “Perhaps there won’t be a fight at all.”
“That another one of your tricks? Can you tell the future?”
“No. It’s merely wishful thinking on my part. It should be on your part, as well. None of us are in any shape for a protracted struggle of any kind.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky,” McCann replied, “and they’ll just pick us off with the rifles before we get any closer.”
Gail opened her mouth to respond, intent on telling McCann that she’d had enough of his surly attitude. Before she could, however, a gunshot echoed across the water. All four of them ducked down as low as they could, the makeshift oars forgotten.
Gail grasped Novak’s hand and squeezed. “They’re shooting at us!”
“I told you so,” McCann moaned.
Another shot rang out, then a third. The falling rain muffled the blasts, but they were still loud enough that Gail twitched at the sound.
Novak gave her hand another squeeze. Then he let go and slowly peered over the side. After a moment, he glanced back down at the others.
“They’re not shooting at us. They’re shooting at each other!”
CHAPTER 61
“What do we do?” Gail asked.
“Stay down.” Novak motioned to the others as the waves pushed their boat closer to the bigger vessel. “McCann, grab an oar. Let’s get alongside her.”
Gail noticed a sudden change in both Novak’s tone and demeanor. Gone was the hopelessness and fatigue that had seemed to surround him since his injury. He seemed to be his old self again. She could almost picture him standing up in their boat, cigar dangling from the corner of his mouth as he sprayed the Catamaran with a blast from his homemade flamethrower—if the weapon hadn’t still been on the ship, of course.
“How many people are on board?” Simon asked, ducking low as yet another volley of gunshots echoed across the water.
“Well, let’s see.” Novak frowned, thinking. “We lost Warren and Lynn soon after we left the boat. So that leaves Riffle, Morgan, Ben, Mylon, Paris, Caterina and Tatiana.”
“Seven of them,” Simon said. “Those aren’t such bad odds. And judging from the sounds we’re hearing, a second mutiny is underway. That might benefit us even more.”
They closed to within a few hundred yards of the ship. The rain parted enough that they could make out the outer decks. All of them appeared deserted.
“Gunshots must be coming from inside.” Novak leaned hard into his oar. “Steady, McCann. Let’s come around the aft side. There’s a ladder we can use.”
“We’re going aboard?” Gail asked, surprised.
“Well, we can’t stay out here.”
“But they’re shooting inside,” Gail insisted. “Shouldn’t we at least wait until the fight is over?”
Novak pulled alongside the bigger craft and reached for the lowest ladder rung, steadying their boat. “The longer we wait, the better the chance something comes up from below and eats us. I’ve kept you alive this long, right?”
Blinking rain from her eyes, Gail nodded.
Novak smiled. “Then give me a little while longer, and I’ll do the same.”
He swung out of the boat and scurried up the ladder. His feet slipped on the wet rungs, and the others gasped, but he managed to hold on tight. When he reached the top, he peered over the side. Then he glanced down at the others and motioned for them to follow. Simon went next, followed by Gail. McCann brought up the rear. He didn’t bother securing their small boat. All of them knew that if this didn’t work out to their advantage, they wouldn’t need it anyway.
They huddled together in the shadows. A deck light flashed a momentary glint off of McCann’s sword blade. The outer decks were deserted. Rain pounded against them in a steady drumbeat. The ship rocked slowly back and forth. Two more shots rang out from somewhere beneath their feet., followed by a woman’s scream.
“Come on,” Novak said, brandishing one of the knives they’d taken from the flooded office building. “Let’s do this.”
They crept forward in single file, moving slowly and making sure they kept a few feet of distance between one another. Gail had to reach out several times and steady herself against the bulkhead as the ship rolled and pitched from side to side. The shotgun grew slippery in her hands. When they reached a forward hatch, Novak paused. The hatch hung partially open, blocked by a body lying halfway through it.
“Is that…?” McCann covered his mouth with his hand.
“Yeah,” Novak knelt beside the body. “It’s Paris. At least, I think it’s her.”
Gail nudged her way forward and glanced down at the body. Immediately, she saw why Novak was having trouble identifying it. The corpse was partially headless. Something had sliced or bitten the top of the victim’s head off, just above the bridge of the nose. The victim’s brains, and everything else, were gone—not splashed onto the deck and bulkheads.
Gone.
Something slithered across the deck behind them, and a shadow fell over them all.
CHAPTER 62
Gail, Novak, McCann and Simon all turned at the same time. Gail swept the shotgun up, ready to blast the attacker at point blank range. Her finger twitched on the trigger. She barely had time to stop herself from squeezing it as Caterina stumbled out of the rain. The woman was clearly distressed. Her wet clothes were torn and covered with blood, but she had no visible wounds. Her eyes were wide, her hair flattened and streaming water. She reached for them, hands flailing wildly. Novak stepped forward and took her hand. Caterina collapsed against him, sobbing. Great shudders racked her thin frame.
“It’s okay,” Novak soothed. “It’s okay, darlin’. What happened? Are you hurt?”
“Th… they… heads like… oh God…”
Gail and McCann pressed closer, crowding around the hysterical woman. Gail noticed that Simon held back, carefully watching the perimeter.
“Caterina,” Novak lowered his voice. “What happened? Where are the others?”
“M-morgan… and then… he killed Riffle. He… and then they… came, and… Paris… their heads are wrong! Why are their heads so wrong?”