“Not at that speed,” J.B. admonished. “Friends don’t come charging full speed at total strangers.”
A bearded man on board one of the rushing vessels called out through a megaphone, but the words were distorted from the sheer distance.
“Something about heave to,” Krysty said, brushing the tangles of hair away from her ears. “But I couldn’t get the rest over the noise of those engines.”
Ryan grunted at the pronouncement. He knew her hearing was a lot sharper than most people’s.
“Fuck them,” Jak spit, easing back the hammer on his .357 magnum Colt. “Lies, anyhow.”
Withdrawing the Navy telescope from his pouch, J.B. extended the device to its full length. “Hard to see with all the bouncing,” he complained, using a hand to cushion the telescope end rather than press the hard metal directly on his face. Only a fool did such a thing. It was a good way to lose the eye completely.
“Well?” Ryan demanded impatiently.
“They’re heavily armed,” J.B. announced, compacting the scope to the size of a soup can, “and carrying nets.”
“Alive,” Mildred growled, drawing her ZKR blaster. “We know what that means.”
Suddenly, the two speedboats began to separate, arcing in different directions around the near stationary rafts. Taking a stance on the rolling deck, the physician braced her blaster at the wrist and drew in a slow breath. The foremost speedboat was still far away when she fired three times. The pilot slumped at the wheel, and the craft veered off sharply heading out to sea.
“Take the tiller!” Ryan ordered.
Holstering his piece, Jak switched with the big man, and Ryan unlimbered the Steyr. Working the bolt to chamber a round, he wrapped the strap about his forearm to help steady the aim and tracked the coming speedboat through the scope for a single heartbeat, then fired.
The cowling flipped off the outboard motor, and the engine caught fire. The boat slowed dramatically, and the men on board threw buckets of water on the burning machinery. Then J.B. opened up with the Uzi. Black dots peppered the hull, a windshield cracked, two men dropped and another tumbled overboard, his face gone.
Sporadic gunfire came from the junkyard island as the rafts continued floating away, the current that had carried them there building in strength. Then another vessel appeared from within the tanker, a huge powerful boat covered with predark weapons—machine guns and torpedo tubes.
“Damn, it’s a PT boat from World War II!” Mildred shouted. “That can easily catch us and blow these rafts out of the water!”
“Unfortunately, they do not want us dead,” Doc said grimly, cocking the hammer on his LeMat. “However, we do not reciprocate the sentiment.” Doc fired twice, the booming revolver sounding as if it exploded rather than merely discharged, a lance of flame more than a foot long vomiting from its pitted muzzle. The first .44 miniball missed, but the second round impacted directly on the hull, making only a small dent.
“By the Three Kennedys!” he cursed, waving the weapon to disperse the smoke. “That floating tank is armored better than the Merrimac!”
Holding his blaster in both hands, Dean emptied a clip at the massive boat. If the boy hit the vessel it wasn’t discernible. He reloaded and tried again.
“They’re not even going to waste ammo shooting,” J.B. drawled, slapping a fresh clip into the Uzi and triggering short controlled bursts. Instead of the men, he was aiming for the torpedo tubes, hoping for an explosion. “They’ll just ram us, and bust these rafts into kindling!”
“Then rescue the female survivors,” Mildred said, stuffing her jacket pockets with grens for close combat.
“Rape, you mean.” Thumbing fresh rounds into her Smith & Wesson pistol, Krysty could see the men on board, laughing and jeering in unbridled lust. The sight made her blood run cold. After being almost raped twice in her lifetime, she would rather chill herself than let them have her as a prisoner, a helpless plaything to be abused for their sexual torture. Or even worse, a breeder to bear children as fast as possible until she died on a birthing bed whelping another slave for them to ravage.