Knockdown (17 page)

Jervis
picked up the boat hook and moved to guard the cabin stairs.

“That’s far enough,” Dylan shouted
. He nodded at Takumi and Nick. They inched to the rail with their spear guns ready.

“What are you doing?”
Zoë punched Dylan’s shoulder.

A sailor stood up in the
life raft. He held onto his bandaged arm. His hair was gray and he was clearly older than the rest of the crew. “We thought your boat was deserted,” he called out.

“Sorry to disappoint you,
” Dylan yelled back.

The older sailor shook
his head. “You misunderstand, son. I’m happy to find survivors. It’s a miracle.”

Dylan nodded. “Yeah. Rough night.”

The older man grimaced and took a deep breath. “We have wounded men and need to get back to base. We’re out of gas. Any chance you have some to spare?”

“Sorry,” Dylan said. “You n
eed regular gas. The sailboat’s diesel.”

The gray-haired man rubbed his
arm. He twisted round and spoke to his crew in a voice too soft for us to hear. The raft continued to move closer.

Takumi and Nick loaded arrows into their spear guns.

Zoë ran to the rail. “Wait. I want to get back to Seattle. Will you take me?”

Dylan grabbed her arm
. “Are you out of your mind? You’d actually climb into that raft with guys you don’t even know?”

“
Let the girl go.” A young officer stood. He aimed a flare-gun at
Whistler
.

Takumi notched an arrow into his spear gun. “Back off or I’ll put a serious hole in your raft.”

“Take your hand off the girl,” the older man commanded. “Let her go, or Seaman Derrick will shoot at your sails.”

Dylan let go of
Zoë’s arm.

I stood paralyzed, glancing from my brother to the raft.

The older man stared at Zoë. “I’m Lieutenant Commander Wilson. Are you being held against your will, miss?”

Zoë
looked confused. “Against my will?” She moved beside Dylan. “No…nothing like that. I came out here with my boyfriend.” She touched Dylan’s shoulder. “But I thought it was just until after the tsunami. He wants to head south and not back home.” She started to cry. “I want to go home.”

Dylan glared at
Zoë and stepped away. He faced Cole, who stood at the wheel, and nodded.

Cole reached for the ignition switch.

“You touch that starter button and I shoot,” the sailor with the flare gun called out.

Zoë
screeched and hid behind Dylan. Cole flipped the engine on.

A blast exploded from the raft. A ball of fire sped toward u
s. It landed on the fiberglass deck. Jervis kicked the flare overboard and splashed sea water on the spot where it had landed.

Nick shot a spear at the raft. It warbled in the air and landed twenty feet short of its target.

“Start rowing, seamen,” the commander ordered as he watched Cole. “Touch the throttle, young man, and we fire again. Unlike you, we are close enough to hit our targets. Next time it will be you.”

The life raft grew closer.

Takumi aimed his spear gun at the raft. “Stop. Stop now. My friend never shot a spear gun before. I have.”

The rowers waited for their
commander. He held his hand up for the rowers to stop.

“What are you doing
, Commander?” The flare gun sailor pointed his gun at us. “They can’t hit us from this distance. We need that boat. Our base is gone. The government’s in ruins. There ain’t no more Coast Guard.”

The
oarsmen avoided the commander’s gaze and continued rowing. They were fifty feet away.

“You’re wrong.” Dylan gestured wildly. “The President was just on the radio. The U
.S. Government is intact. She ordered all military back to base.”

“You have a working radio?” The
commander squared his shoulders. “Son, we need that radio.”

Dylan shook his head. Three more sai
lors in the raft stood up. They were only forty feet away. Still the seamen rowed.

“Don’t let them get any closer,”
Jervis mumbled loud enough for the raft to hear. “They’ll take over our boat.”

“We are your United States Coast Guard
. Our country needs us. It’s your duty to help,” one of the newly standing seamen shouted.

A large swell rocked the raft and then our sailboat. The men in the lifeboat sat or fell down and held on until the swell passed under them.

I gripped the handrail and waited for the seas to settle. “We can’t let you on board. You told the rowers to stop, but still they row. You don’t have control of your men.”

The
commander glared at the sailor with the flare gun. “Lower the flare, seaman. Oar men, I ordered you to stop.”

Finally the life-raft stopped. It was thirty feet away. The se
aman with the flare gun still pointed the gun at us.

“Son, where are you
r folks?” the commander asked Dylan.

“I’m not your son,” Dylan replied.

The commander sighed. “If you heard our President, you know we need to get back. As far as we know, we are the only survivors of our Coast Guard vessel MIDGET. It had one hundred fifty sailors on board. We owe it to their families to report what happened. We need that radio to report our location. If we have to row back, it will take days. We have some provisions, but our water supply was lost in the tsunami.”

“Not my problem. We can’t let you on board
,” Dylan said.

The
commander glared at Dylan, then made a hand signal. The rowers picked up the oars.

Takumi shouted, “
One stroke and I fire.”

The oars
hit the water. Takumi watched Dylan. Dylan bobbed his head. Takumi took aim and fired. This time the spear landed only a couple of feet short of the raft.

“Row hard,” t
he Commander shouted.

Takumi hurried to notch another arrow into the spear gun.

Cole started the engine and ducked. A flare flew toward our boat, bounced off the decking, and landed in the cockpit. Jervis dove out of the way, but his jacket caught fire. I ran with a damp towel and smothered the flames. Another flare was in the sky. It hit the mast and bounced into the water.

Angelina climbed
up into the cockpit. “Stop!”

“Get down.
” Nick ran toward her from the bow.

Another flare flew in the air and landed on a coil of lines. They be
gan to burn. Cole used his bottle of water to douse the fire. I threw the damp towel on top of it.

Jervis
, who had been guarding the stairs, grabbed Angelina around the waist and shielded her with his massive body.

“
Let go of me.” Angelina struggled against Jervis.

A loud blast
shook the boat. I cowered and covered my ears.

“
Get out of my way, Jervis.” Angelina held a hand smoking gun. It was pointed at the sky. She ran to the rail. Jervis followed at a distance, his eyes wide.

“Stop rowing. Now!” She
aimed the handgun at the commander.

I grinned from ear to ear.

The seaman with the flare laughed. “She’s just a kid. They’re all kids. Keep rowing.”

Angelina shook her head. “Think so? See t
hat garbage can?” She quickly fired at an aluminum can a little ways to the right of the raft. The can bounced with the impact. She brought the gun back and pointed it at the seaman. “My daddy was a police officer and taught me how to shoot. Stop rowing now, or the next bullet has the bully with the flare gun written on it.”

I wanted to jump up and down and cheer.

“All stop,” the commander ordered. “Young lady, if your daddy was a police officer, you should have respect for authority.”

The rowers stopped. They were only twenty feet away. We could see their faces clearly. All eyes were glued on Angelina.

“You’re right. I do,” she said. “But these are my friends and this is their boat. I can’t let you take it.” She glanced at Dylan and then back to the raft. “However, give me a call number. I’ll radio a message out for you.”

The
commander sat down with a groan. “Just a bunch of kids…” he muttered. “Fine. Try channel forty-six or forty-eight. They aren’t secure, but someone should be monitoring them. Tell the operator that Lt. Commander Wilson and seven seamen from the MIDGET are headed twenty degrees due east. We’re not sure how many miles from shore we are, but we will stay on that heading.”

“I’ll do that.” Angelina motioned to Cole. He put his hand on the throttle.

“Just a minute,” I said. “Dylan, our dinghy and outboard are gone. We could give them our cans of regular gas.”

The Commander stood, suddenly alert.

“Toni!” Dylan glared at me. “They just tried to kill us.”

“I know, but look at them. They’re desperate.” I pointed at the tattered raft.

Cole removed his hand from the throttle. “I agree with Toni. But we can’t let them get too close.”

“We could put the gas cans i
n the bins we just brought back and set them to float.” I picked up a red and green plastic tub.

Dylan closed his eyes and shook his head.

Angelina, flanked by Nick and Jervis, held their guns on the commander as my brothers loaded two gas cans into the bins.

“Watch out for swimmers. They might try to go over the side and board us
,” Dylan warned.

Jervis
walked around and around the sailboat, watching the water.

I ran down to the cabin and came back with a couple of six packs of
Coke.

Dylan grabbed my arm. “What are you doing?”

“We don’t have any water to spare, but...” I pulled the cans from the plastic holder.

Dylan rolled his eyes.

“One per sailor,” Cole whispered.

I stuffed four cans of pop into each bin, helped Cole secure the lids, and dropped them in the water.

Dylan walked back to the rail where our armed crew stood guard.

“A
lready I regret this, but we’re floating two cans of gas out to you. You can decide after you fill your tank to come after us, or head to shore. Remember, we still have a police pistol and two spear guns. And we won’t be so easy to sneak up on again.”

The
commander sighed. “Thank you for the gas. Please send the message. Some of my men are badly injured.”

Cole pushed the throttle down.

“Wait! Please! Just a little water?” A sailor cried as we motored away.

Chapter
Twenty

Ten and a Half Days to Go

I stood on the stern and watched as the sailors rowed to the bins. When they were tiny dots in the distance, Cole slowed
Whistler
, and aimed her into the wind. Dylan pulled up the main sail. It puckered in the middle, but we cheered when it filled with air. The boat listed to port as Nick rolled out the jib and Dylan turned off the engine. The sails weren’t perfect, but we were moving. We were sailing.

The clouds grew darke
r. I shivered with cold. Frosty air escaped my lungs. It appeared the scientists were right. This definitely wasn’t typical Pacific Northwest, August weather. I checked my cell. Still no service, but we had lots of time. Dad didn’t expect us to meet him in Southern California for ten days. I wondered where he and Mom were. They’d be so proud if they knew what we’d just done.

Angelina stood beside at the rail, the gun in her hands.
Jervis grinned at her.

“Oh. My. God. You were amazing
,” I told her.

Angelina smiled sweetly. You’d never know she’d just held a gun on a raft of Coast Guard sailors.

“You really are.” Jervis glanced around. “Where’s Makala?”

“Makala!” Angelina checked the safety, shoved the gun into the waistband of her jeans, and raced down to the cabin.

Nick, Jervis, and I followed. I expected Makala to be hiding under the bed covers.

“I put her in here.” Angelina opened the deep storage closet
in our bedroom. “What if it’s airtight? What if…”

We peeked in. At the bottom of the closet Makala and the puppy snuggled together. The little wiener dog raised his head, sneezed, and sunk back down on Makala’s chest. Makala sighed.

Jervis and I chuckled.

Nick gently swung Angelina around. “You’re incredible.” He bent to kiss her. She glanced down at her sleeping sister,
and then melted in his arms.

Jervis
staggered back, his mouth agape. I pushed him toward the stairs. His shoulders slouched as he climbed up on deck.