Night of Terror by Desmond Bagley

to Mark, who was still lying on the deck. But he was conscious and

trying to sit up.

Geordie arrived at a run and a babble of voices told him what had

happened – Taffy said harshly, “My fault, skipper. I let the bastard

out. We heard a man screaming and I thought someone was in pain in the

brig. I went in with Bill but Hadley went through us like an express

train.” Bill said, “No wonder that poor devil was screaming.

Hadley had near taken the arm out of his socket; to get us to open

up!

“He was quite mad,”said Ian soberly.

To dispel the air of gloom Geordie said briskly, “Well, he tried and he

failed. And that’s the last of them. The others won’t make any

trouble. Now, lads, back to work. We’re not home and dry yet.” They

dispersed slowly. Geordie turned to me and said’ softly, “The last of

them – bar Mark. What are you going to do about your brother, Mike?”

I looked at him bleakly.

“I don’t know. First I must see how badly he’s hurt. But I can’t just

hand him over to the police.”

“I don’t think you’ve any choice, laddie.” “I guess not. But it’s a

hell of a thing to have to do.”

Clare, her arm comfortingly firm around my rib cage, waited in silence

for me to come to a decision. I said, “Geordie, I have to talk to him

alone. Take Paula with you, Clare. Look after her. God knows she’s

had enough to cope with. Keep everyone away from us for a while, would

you?” “I’ll do that,” Geordie said.

Clare gave me a smile of compassion and warmth and then walked back to

the deckhouse. Mark was sitting propped up against the railing with

Paula as always by his side. I waited until Clare took her gently by

the arm and the two girls went below to join Campbell. I wanted to

speak to Mark, perhaps for the last time, with no one to act as a

shield between us.

He looked stonily at me as I squatted beside him.

unter were rst at my si e.

“How is it? I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Not good,” he said breathlessly. He was

sheet-white and his eyes were cloudy.

I said, “Mark, thank you for saving Paula.” “Don’t thank me. That was

my business.”He did not want to hear praise from me. “I told you that

man was off his rocker.” “Well, he’s out of it now. Ramirez too.

Which leaves only you, Mark. And puts me in a devil of a fix.” I

expected his usual sneering retort, but instead he surprised me. He

said, “I know that, Mike. I’ve caused you a lot of grief, and I’m

sorry. I’m likely to cause you a lot more as long as I live.” “No,

I-‘ “Which won’t be long. I’m no doctor, but I know that much.”

“Mark, we’ll be back in port pretty soon and you’ll be in medical

hands. We may even be sharing a ward,” I said, trying to speak

lightly. Mark was sombre and less arrogant than I had ever known him,

and I was dismayed.

“Don’t be a fool, Mike,” he said with a touch of his old acerbity.

“You’re going to have a million questions to answer as it is. It’s not

going to make things easier for you if you suddenly turn up with your

long-lost, murdered, murderer brother, is it? I knew that he was

right. I foresaw nothing but trouble for both of us. I shrank from

the thought of turning him over to justice, but I could see no other

way. Mark let me think about it for a while.

“Mike, I have one chance, just one, to make things right with you.

I’ve never done anything for you before. Yo give me this one

chance.”

I said slowly, “Dear God, what can I do?” He pulled himself more

upright and swayed a little. The he said, “Mike, I’m going to die.”

“Mark, you don’t know—” “Hear me out.” His voice shook. “Remember,

I’m already a dead man.

Without me you have every chance of coming clean out of this. There

will be nobody to dispute your story. You were sailing to meet up with

Ramirez on a survey expedition, and got caught up in the shambles of

Falcon. By now the world will know it’s blown. There’ll be scientists

overlying, ships coming to look, the lot. You know that. Your

stalwart fellows can wipe out all traces of a gunfight. And you can

persuade those Spaniards you’ve got on board to shut up.” He drew in a

harsh breath.

He was drenching in his own sweat.

“Christ, do I have to spell it out for you? I’m not going to

recover.

I can do one thing for you, if you’ll help me now.” I asked, knowing

the answer, “Help you to do what?” “Help me to die.” I hid ad

known.”Mark, I can’t kill you.” “You won’t need to.” Something

glittered in front of my eyes. It was the kitchen knife Hadley had

used on Mark, bloody at the tip but winking in the sunlight. I

swallowed, a hard lump in my throat.

“What – do you want me to do?” “Get me over the side, into the sea.

It’ll be as quick for me as it was for Hadley.” Silently I got up and

began to pace the deck. He watched me carefully, saying nothing,

giving me time. This was the only completely unselfish thing he would

ever have done in his LIFE. But he gave me a dreadful choice.

At last I came back to him.

“All right, Mark. God forgive me, I’ll help you.” “Good.” He became

brisk. “Don’t let anyone see us. The story will be that I climbed

over on my own, after you’d gone.

I would do that, but I need your help: There was nobody in sight.

Geordie had done his work well.

I could find nothing else to say. Mark gave a short hard cough and his

head drooped, and for an instant I thought that he had already died,

sitting there. And then he raised his head and looked me in the eye.

For the only time in my adult life our gazes locked without

antagonism.

It took only a couple of moments. I got him over to the railing and we

both looked down into the sea where the bow-wave ran along Esmerelda’s

side. I remember thinking how quiet it was.

He hooked one leg over the rail and I helped steady him as he lifted

the other across. For an instant I held him.

“Goodbye, Mike,” he said clearly.

I let go. He fell backwards and disappeared into the spray. I turned

blindly away and with my head in my hands huddled down by the side of

the deckhouse.

After a while I stood up shakily. It was done. And I must go and talk

to some of the crew. Not to Paula, not yet. But I must give Mark’s

plan a chance to work. I turned to leave.

The knife had gone from the deck.

I stood for a moment riveted, a flood of thoughts pouring into my

mind.

Then I swung round to look at the deck where Mark had been lying.

There was still no knife, and now that I came to think of it, very

little blood.

In two strides I was at the rail, looking aft, my thoughts erupting as

the volcano had done. The motor launch which had been running in tow

was gone, and the painter dangled loosely over the stern. Across the

water I thought I could see a tiny dancing speck, but I couldn’t be

sure of that, or of anything.

Slowly I walked aft and hauled in thepainter. The end of it had been

cut across, newly-severed and just beginning to fray.

There was fuel in the launch and iron rations, for it had always had

the function of a lifeboat. There were fishing lines blankets, flares,

a first aid kit. There was everything needed’ for survival.

I stood at the railing, alone as I’d asked to be, and bade my brother a

final, ironic farewell. And yes, I wished him luck.

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