Grabbing the AK-47, Krysty flipped the selector switch to full-auto and emptied the last clip at the rapidly approaching warship. The fusillade of rounds ricocheted off the hull with no effect.
Swaying to the motion of the building waves, Ryan swept the enemy boat with rounds from the Steyr, but the copper-jacketed 7.62 mm rounds of the longblaster were useless against the military armor of the hulking PT boat.
“Fireblast!” he stormed, dropping the spent weapon. “Small arms are useless against that behemoth. Mind the backwash. I’m going to use a LAW!”
Grabbing a fat tube from under the canvas mound, Ryan yanked the weapon to its full length. The sights popped up on top, and a large red button was exposed.
“Clear?” Ryan demanded, zeroing the aft port. The water was getting rough, waves chopping at the raft.
“Clear!” Krysty shouted.
Heading straight toward the rafts, the PT boat loomed before them as Ryan pressed the launch button. A volcanic cone of exhaust stretched for several yards from the rear of the tube, and a rustling firebird launched from the tube and streaked toward the PT boat.
The rocket hit the vessel amidships, punching through the hull and detonating. Torn to pieces, the deck lifted off the gunwale as the boat was blown apart, men and machinery spewing outward in a geyser of destruction.
As the current quickly took the rafts away from the sinking wreckage, Ryan tossed the spent tube overboard and grabbed another. Warily, he waited for another speedboat to appear, but no more vessels ventured from the junkyard ville.
“I don’t like this,” Krysty said suspiciously. “They gave up too quickly.”
Holstering his blaster, Dean suggested, “Mebbe they don’t have any more boats.”
“I saw a dozen more at the dock,” J.B. replied, feeling uneasy. “A few had to be in working condition.”
“There’s something wrong here,” Ryan agreed, collapsing the launcher. “Damned if I know what, though.”
“We shot the shit out of them,” Mildred stated forcibly. “They’re just scared of folks with guns.”
“Could be,” Ryan said reluctantly. “Then again, they charged straight into our blasters and didn’t shoot back when they wanted prisoners. That doesn’t sound cowardly.”
“No,” she agreed. “No, it doesn’t.”
Unexpectedly, the rafts lurched in a rush of acceleration that nearly knocked the companions off their feet.
“Now, what was that?” Krysty demanded. “A riptide?”
“Hey,” Jak said, throwing his weight against the tiller. There was no response. “Going south. Can’t stop.”
“Same here,” Doc shouted, struggling with the helm. “The current is too strong.”
Choppy waves broke over the front of the first raft, covering the companions with misty spray.
“Does that taste salty?” Krysty asked, touching her lips.
In sudden understanding, Mildred dipped a hand into the rough water and licked a finger. That was brine, sure enough.
“Sweet Jesus, this is why they stopped chasing us!” Mildred shouted. “We’re caught in an underwater river!”
Once, long ago, the physician had seen a television program on such events. A severe earthquake would occasionally lower a large section of land, and the sea would rush along an existing riverbed, pushing the fresh water out of its way as it plowed inland. Nukes or some natural disaster had to have rearranged the Carolinas, and now they were trapped in a reverse river, probably heading for a blast crater.
“This is taking us to a blast crater!” she shouted over the raging waters. “A really huge mucking big one!”
“We could jump,” Dean offered hesitantly, with no real enthusiasm for the plan.
“Caught in the flow,” Ryan grunted, straining at the helm. The aluminum door was shaking wildly in his grasp, but seemed to be helping a little. No rocks hit yet. “Jump and we’d be dragged into the whirlpool.”
“The what?”
“Two rivers going in opposite directions—of course there’s a whirlpool.” J.B. yanked off his glasses and placed them securely in a shirt pocket.
“There it is!” Krysty cried out, pointing.
An islet of land was faintly visible ahead of them, the blue water from the river rushing toward the east, and the darker sea waters racing toward the west. At the apex of the islet was a large depression of white water. Mist rose from the location, and a low steady roar could be heard, then felt in the trembling logs of the raft.
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