Red Tide (Billy Knight Thrillers 2)

But that was Nicky. New Age gunslinger. Guru with a gun. In his mind a pistol was a magic charm to ward off evil. He’d spent hundreds of hours firing at targets, practicing his quick draw, changing magazines as fast as he could.

I’d tried to tell him it wasn’t the same as hearing that unique flat ripping sound of a bullet just missing your head, and trying to fire back without wetting your pants. He’d never quite believed it could be all that different.

And now, unless I could remember how to work my feet, he was going to get us into a shooting match with a bunch of guys who killed for fun and profit.

I shook my legs. They were still numb, but a little better. With time I might make it.

“They caught you,” I said to Nicky. Good, Billy; almost a full sentence.

“They did that,” Nicky admitted. “I slipped on board right after they cleared all the cargo off. Looked around a bit, stashed a couple of bundles. Three small backpacks, Billy. Food, water, weapon. So if they find one, I got a back-up.” He looked so proud of himself; so damned clever, sneaking around stashing guns and granola, out-foxing the enemy.

He went on. “I watched ’em start to load on people. Another full day. I was up on top, in the big life raft up there. Couldn’t move around, look for you. People everywhere.” He shrugged. “I waited. Figured they had to blink sometime, eh? Then I could sneak round about, have a peek, see if I could find you.

“Well, it got night, and just as things slowed down a bit, the boat starts up and heads off to sea. And I figure all right, Nick-lad, time to earn your keep. I slip out of the life raft and down the stairs.”

He paused and I turned to look at him. I could hear my neck creak from the effort and a pain shot straight up my spine and out my eyeballs, but I looked.

Nicky was looking at his toes. He kicked his feet, left, right, left. “Shit-peppers. They grabbed me before I got three steps down. Dragged me in to see Cappy. The fella with the snake tattoo. He knew me right off. Thought it was pretty funny, us sneaking aboard one at a time. ‘Now I ’ave you all,’ he says in that horrible silky froggish accent he’s got.

“And then he raises up that eyebrow of his and wants to know, is anybody else of our merry little gang going to come a-calling? And I figger if I say yes, lots more, he’ll think I’m bluffing. So I say no, that’s the lot. And he looks at me a good long time, smiles, and says, ‘Bon.’

“Then he has his boys bounce me around a little and asks me again. And I say all right, there’s one more boatload, they’re waiting in the Gulf Stream. And I can’t tell if he believes me or not, but they bounce me around a little more and then they throw me down here.”

“And here we are, mate. Here we are.”

He sounded almost happy about that. I managed to grunt, “Anna—”

He was a quiet for a moment. “Billy—I don’t know, mate. I—tried to look for her, but… I don’t know, mate.”

I closed my eyes and let the sound of the drums rolls over me, mixing with the pounding of my headache. I couldn’t make my brain work fast enough to be sure but it seemed like Cappy had had Anna almost a week. I had to find her, had to get my stupid brain and wooden body together and find her. It was impossible that she was all right, but I had to know.

Which meant I had to get on deck into the middle of what sounded like a cannibal’s di

nner party, get past a gang of pet killers, and face the Man With The Snake. Simple enough.

But first I had to remember how to walk.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

It took some more time to get my legs back. The party overhead didn’t slow down. If anything it got louder and wilder. By the time I had walked back and forth for a few minutes and felt ready to go, it had gone way beyond wild frat party. Now it sounded like after hours at the Republican convention.

I still felt slow, stupid and stiff, but it wasn’t going to get any better anytime soon. “All right,” I told Nicky.

“Right,” he said. “What’s the plan?”

I looked at him. He was all eager and confident, looking like he didn’t have a doubt in the world that we would waltz up on deck, clean up the rascals and sail away into the sunset.

“It sounds like everybody is on deck, so I’m going to search below-decks,” I said. “Try to find Anna.”

Nicky nodded. “Then we’ll split up,” he said. “I’ll go for that pack I stashed, so we’ve got some artillery to back us up.”

I wanted to tell him he had seen too much American TV. A gun doesn’t always save the day. He didn’t have a clue, and I could barely function, and we were about to take on a crew of killers on their home turf. And he was convinced that a gun would even things out. If I only had enough gripping strength I would have grabbed him and shaken him.

But what the hell. If he realized how bad things were, he might experience aura meltdown. So if looking for his gun kept him from jumping into the ocean screaming, maybe it was a good thing. It was all right if one of us had hope.

In any case, I wanted him out of the way. I was going to kill Cappy, no matter what it took, and I didn’t want him there for something he might not be able to handle. Let him look for his gun. It was better than looking at murder.

“Go,” I said. “I’ll find Anna.”