The Storm (NUMA Files 10)

“But we can’t make it to Seychelles in this.”

“No. But we might reach the shipping lanes and be able to flag down some help.”

Kurt’s check of the fuel level showed half a tank. By the smell of things, the rest had poured out on the way down. How far they could go was anybody’s guess. Once they’d made some distance, he would ease back on the throttle to conserve fuel, but for now he held it wide open and the little boat ran like the wind on the flat gray sea.

All seemed well for about forty minutes until Kurt noticed Leilani squeezing the inflated sidewall like one might squeeze a melon at the supermarket.

“What’s wrong?”

Her eyes remained on the inflated chamber. “We seem to have sprung a leak,” she said.

“A leak?”

She nodded. “Not water coming in. Air … going out.”

CHAPTER 38

KURT HELD THE BOAT ON A WESTERLY HEADING WHILE Leilani looked for the source of the leak and any way to fix it.

“What do you see?”

“Half a dozen little pinpricks,” she said. “I can feel the air leaking through them.”

He waved her to the back. “Drive the boat for a second.”

She came back to the transom, and Kurt took a look at what she’d found. Eight little holes, some of which were so small he could press the rubber together and the air stopped escaping.

“What do you think happened?” Leilani asked.

The holes were spread out in a weird pattern, almost a spray pattern, running from front to back. “Shrapnel from the plane,” he guessed, “or even tiny drops of burning kerosene. The rubber looks singed in a spot or two.”

Kurt ran his hands along the other air chambers, which were basically inflated rubber tubes, eight feet long and seventeen inches in diameter. The boat had four total, two in the front that ran straight and then angled together to create the blunt nose of the boat, and two in the rear, one on each side. The back of the boat was a metal transom on which the outboard was mounted.

He found two more pinpricks, both in the front right chamber. Worse yet, he could see little dots here and there that looked like they might have been additional impact zones for shrapnel or fuel. He wondered how long until those opened up.

“How does it look?” Leilani asked.

The prisoner seemed anxious to know as well. He might have been gagged, but his ears weren’t blocked.

“The port side seems okay,” Kurt said. “But that’s not going to help us if the whole starboard side goes flat.”

Two small lockers rested in the deck near the front. He opened both, only to find a single life jacket, a couple of flares, a small anchor and some rope.

“Rubber boat without a pump or a repair kit,” he mumbled. “Somebody’s going to hear from my lawyer.”

“Maybe we should turn around,” Leilani said, “go back to that floating island and surrender.”

“Not unless you want to be a prisoner again,” he said.

“No,” she said, “I don’t want to drown either.”

“We won’t drown even if both of them go flat.”

“But we’ll be stuck clinging to the other side like shipwreck survivors,” she said.

“Better than waiting for Jinn to shoot us,” he said. “Besides, I have a bet to win. All we have to do is push on until we find some help.”

“And if we don’t find help?”