Unless Grant and Murray were having fun.
The boat she’d spotted.
Her skin prickled, and she turned to check her surroundings.
Joy Ridin’ was heading straight towards her, Murray behind the wheel.
Shit. Penelope’s heart jumped, and she grabbed the radio, her other hand shoving the throttle into forward. “Mayday, this is Victor Sierra Foxtrot.” She frantically turned the wheel one handed as she continued, “I have a vessel approaching with known fugitives on board.” The boat turned slowly and she increased speed, frantically trying to steer in the right direction. “I’m at the whale carcass.” The boat bumped against its side as she gave the coordinates, and then gunned the engine, but she was too late. The vessel cut in front of her, blocking her escape route.
Grant stood on the deck holding a military grade gun like someone out of the movies. Her legs wobbled. At least the boat was in front of her. She had the bow and screen between her and the weapon.
“Sending help,” Karen responded. “What’s your situation?”
“They’re here.” She shifted into neutral to avoid damage to the boat.
Reversing wouldn’t get her far, and the whale carcass blocked one side. One hand clenched the radio and the other the wheel. How was she going to escape?
There was a tiny cabin under the bow, which was her best shelter, but it wouldn’t help if they boarded.
And the bullets would rip through the fibreglass like it was butter.
She stared at Grant.
“The boss wants the Stokes to stop messing in his business,” Grant called. “You’re the warning.”
Penelope reacted on instinct, diving onto the floor as the shots exploded, smashing the windscreen and peppering the deck with bullet holes. She hissed as something hit her forehead, and covered her head to protect herself from the shrapnel flinging around.
The noise was deafening and she squeezed her eyes closed, shifting closer to the cabin, but then the shots came crashing through the bow and she curled into a ball, her heart pounding.
The shots cut off and the silence was pulsed in her ears. Then the radio squawked. “Penelope, report, damn you.”
Karen sounded frantic.
She opened her eyes as another round exploded, but this time lower, around the waterline of the boat. Something warm ran down her face and she swiped at it, finding her fingers covered in blood. She applied pressure to the cut.
Then something cold touched her ankle. Sea water. Water was flowing in through a hole in the side.
They were sinking her boat.
Normally it wouldn’t worry Penelope. She had a life jacket, she was a strong swimmer, and she’d sent her coordinates to Karen, but she was right next to a dead whale and a feeding frenzy of sharks.
The final shots of the round were directed at the motor, which died and immediately began to smoke. When it was over, Grant shouted, “Good luck with the sharks.”
Then the luxury boat sped away.
Penelope moved fast, grabbing the radio, but keeping her head low. “Mayday, mayday. Parks and Wildlife boat Victor Sierra Foxtrot. My boat is sinking. Request immediate assistance from any nearby vessel.” She gave her coordinates again. Then she crawled over to the edge of the boat and stuffed a spare life jacket in the hole.
“We’re sending a boat,” Declan replied.
But would it get here in time?
With little hope, she turned the key for the engine. No response.
She peeked over the side, saw the luxury boat heading out to sea. They shouldn’t be able to hit her from there.
Chest tight, she stood and took stock of the situation. The boat was much lower in the water than it had been. There must be more holes under the deck.
She needed rescue. There’d been multiple fishing boats in the area when she’d come this way, but now she scanned the horizon, it was empty.
