Eddie opened fire again — then his magazine ran dry. He looked for the replacement, but it was lost amongst the scattered cargo on the floor. ‘Bollocks!’ he snarled, throwing items aside to search for it. ‘Nina, keep ahead of ’em until I can reload!’
‘That’s what I’m trying—’ Her sarcastic rejoinder was cut off as bullets lanced past. She dropped behind the engine, realising she had completely lost her bearings. Where was the river?
A glimpse of Fortune’s boat through the trees gave her the answer. She turned towards it, carving a serpentine course through the flooded marsh.
The other boats followed, rapidly closing, still shooting.
Eddie threw aside a canister of camping gas, finally seeing the spare magazine under a seat. He slapped it into place—
A Kalashnikov roared. Nina shrieked and threw herself flat as bullets smacked against the outboard, smashing its casing — and puncturing the fuel line. Gasoline spurted out, the engine stuttering.
Eddie raised his head, but the gunman in the nearest boat’s bow saw him and fired, forcing him to drop again. Pinned down—
Something he had discarded moments earlier rolled back before him.
‘Nina, stay down!’ He clicked the AK’s selector to full auto, then grabbed the gas cylinder and lobbed it over the stern — and sent a wild spray of bullets after it.
Most went wide… but he only needed one to hit.
And one did.
The little gas tank blew up ahead of the leading speedboat. The fireball swept over the gunman, searing his face and setting his hair alight. He screamed and fell backwards, Kalashnikov blazing blindly into the air. The startled driver ducked to avoid both kinds of fire, turning hard—
His boat hit a half-submerged log and launched from it in a corkscrew roll — straight into the thick trunk of a towering moabi tree. The speedboat exploded, showering blazing wreckage across the flooded jungle.
Eddie sat up. Another enemy down, but Luaba’s boat was still gaining. He fired again — but the Kalashnikov’s bolt clacked on an empty chamber after just a few rounds. Out of bullets… and there were no more magazines.
The outboard’s cough worsened, the boat slowing. The speedboat rapidly closed in. Luaba grinned in vicious triumph as he aimed at Eddie and pulled the trigger—
Nothing happened. He too had burned through all his Kalashnikov’s ammo.
Eddie groped inside his jacket for the revolver, but Luaba had a replacement weapon closer to hand. He snatched his bloody machete from his belt — and made a flying leap into the other vessel.
He landed with a bang in its rear, the huge man’s weight violently tipping the boat. The gun thunked to the floor as Eddie was almost pitched overboard. The speedboat pulled alongside, the driver steering with one hand as he fumbled to raise up his AK with the other.
Nina shrieked and rolled as Luaba slashed the machete at her. Its edge thunked an inch deep into the gunwale just above her head, the boat’s sway throwing off his aim.
He yanked it out for another strike—
Eddie dived at him, catching the African in a tackle that would have sent any other man over the stern. But Luaba was so solidly built that he only staggered. Nina scrambled clear as the Yorkshireman drove a punch into Luaba’s stomach. The militia man grunted, but in mere discomfort rather than pain. He retaliated by swiping a pan-sized fist at his opponent’s head. The blow knocked Eddie on to one of the seats.
Luaba hefted the machete, about to cleave it down into the other man’s skull—
‘Tree!’ yelled Nina.
Her cry was aimed at her husband, but Luaba reacted to it, seeing a towering kapok rising directly ahead. He hurriedly grabbed the tiller and swerved away from the obstacle — hitting the speedboat side-on.
The other craft’s driver had just targeted Eddie when he was jarred from his seat. Bullets spat from his flailing gun—
One hit the other boat’s outboard — and ignited the leaking fuel.
Flames leapt up from the stern. Luaba jumped away in fright. Eddie also scrambled clear — but not quickly enough. ‘Ow, fuck!’ he cried as fire danced over his shin. He clapped his hands over his jeans, but the blaze refused to be extinguished. ‘Shit, fuck, wank!’
Nina looked in horror between her husband and the view over the prow. The river was not far ahead, but more trees blocked the way. Ten seconds, less, before a fatal crash — but Eddie would already be dead as Luaba recovered—
The boat’s steel anchor sat in a coil of rusty chain inside the bow. She snatched it up and hurled it over her husband. It hit Luaba squarely in the chest and dropped to the deck with a dull clang.
He reeled back. Nina darted to help Eddie, throwing water over his leg. The flames lessened, but didn’t die.
Luaba snarled at the couple — then saw the new danger in their path. Self-preservation overcame anger and he leaned over the flames to pull the tiller. The boat missed the trees by a foot. He hefted his blade again—
Eddie snatched up the anchor and swung it at Luaba’s knee. Rust-scabbed metal cracked against cartilage. The Congolese roared as his leg buckled — but still didn’t fall, clutching the outboard for support.
‘What does it fucking take?’ the Yorkshireman demanded. He grabbed the chain, then whirled the anchor above his head like a slingshot—
Luaba thrust the machete at his heart.
The point stabbed into Eddie’s pectoral as he threw himself backwards. The anchor missed its target and whipped behind the bigger man’s back, looping around him before the chain snagged on itself. The steel weight crashed on to a seat, rusted links clattering down on top of it.
Nina saw a flash of gold under a seat. The revolver. She snatched it up — as a thump from beneath the hull warned her they were crossing shallower water.
She looked ahead. Open river was only seconds away — beyond the half-submerged remains of an old fallen tree.
Luaba raised the machete for a final swing—
‘Eddie!’ Nina yelled. ‘We’re gonna crash!’
Luaba froze as he saw the log rush at them. Eddie took full advantage of his hesitation to lunge for the anchor and hurl it over the stern—
The burning boat hit the tree — and rode up over it, vaulting out into the river.
The anchor’s prongs thunked deep into the rotten wood behind it. The chain snapped taut—
Luaba’s terrified scream was abruptly cut off as the rusty metal carved through his torso like a chainsaw’s blade, his upper and lower halves spinning out of the boat in opposite directions amidst a fountain of blood and entrails.
But Eddie and Nina were still far from safe. The anchor chain was fixed to the bow — yanking the boat to a halt mid-jump and flipping it over.
They both screamed as they were catapulted skywards, arcing towards the muddy water…
They splashed down — as the burning boat blew up behind them. Its propeller skipped over the water like a razor-edged stone, barely missing Nina as she sank into the filthy depths.
She fought through her panic and righted herself, then kicked upwards to breach the surface. ‘Nina!’ Eddie gasped, swimming to her. ‘You okay?’
‘Yeah,’ she spluttered, ‘but I think I’ll need every antibiotic shot they have once we get out of—’
An outboard motor roared behind them.
The speedboat burst from the flooded marsh, its furious driver bringing his craft about to mow down Luaba’s killers.
‘Split up!’ Eddie barked, throwing himself towards the far bank. Nina went the other way. The onrushing boat swung after the Yorkshireman.
He swam harder, but knew he couldn’t escape—
The driver’s head blew apart.