ROYAL ROCK(109)

Danger was coming.

“I think you should get below deck,” I said to her.

“Why?” she asked, still watching.

“It’s not safe up here.”

She laughed. “What are you talking about? Because of that boat?” She looked at me like I was crazy.

“Yes,” I said softly, coming up behind her. “We don’t know who they are.”

“This is the Outer Banks, not Somalia. They’re not pirates.”

“They might be. The coast guard can’t patrol every inch of water all the time. Plus, we’re sitting ducks.”

She looked at me, her surprised good humor turning into worry. “You’re serious.”

“I am. Go below deck until they’re gone.”

The boat was coming up faster now, and I got a better look at them. The two men were nondescript but young looking. I couldn’t see if they were carrying any weapons, but they’d keep them hidden as long as possible. Their clothes suggested they were prepared to move quickly, but they weren’t wearing ski masks and camo gear, either.

“No. You’re just being overprotective.”

“Claire,” I growled at her, “get below deck or I’ll throw you down there.”

“Come on, cut it out—”

I didn’t let her finish. I grabbed her and tossed her over my shoulder like she weighed nothing.

“Nate, what the hell!”

I walked over toward the stairs leading below deck. “For your own good,” I said as she began to smack my arms and back.

“Put me down, you asshole!”

“Nope.”

I carried her down the steps, grinning softly to myself. I stopped in front of the storage room and placed her down on her feet. She huffed and blew the hair from her face.

“Go in and stay there.”

“No way.”

I gave her a long look. “Do it or I’ll make you.”

She sighed and opened the door. “Five minutes.”

“Until I get you.”

“Ten. See you soon.” She shut the door behind her.

Relieved, I moved fast. I didn’t have a gun, but I did have my knife strapped to my pants. I went back on deck and noticed how much closer the men were. I quickly grabbed my jeans and slipped the knife from the sheath. Then I gripped it against my thigh, crouching down next to the railing.

The boat was coming fast, and the closer they got, the more positive I was that they were definitely pirates. They were headed right for our boat, and neither of them were talking into the radio or trying to signal us at all. They had grim looks on their faces, as if they were about to do something horrible. Those were looks I knew very, very well.

But there were only two of them, which was good.

I waited until they got within shouting distance. My heart went calm in my chest as my battle instincts took over.

“What do you want?” I yelled out.

“We’re lost,” one man yelled back. “We need help.”

“Land is due west.”

“We need help. Can we board?”

“Negative. Do not board.”

They didn’t slow down. They were headed right for us.

“Do not board,” I yelled again.

Suddenly, the man I had been talking to pulled out a rifle from beneath his bench and aimed it at me. My training kicked in as I dove away from the bullet spray, the scream of the weapon cutting through over the rain and the engines.

I rolled off and quickly moved toward the stairs, getting under cover behind the metal door. I didn’t have a gun to return fire, or else this would be much easier. Instead, I needed to let them board. I needed them to get close, nice and personal.

And so I waited. After a few minutes, their engine cut out, and I saw ropes get thrown up onto the deck. They caught on the railing and went taut.

The two men climbed over. They were both wearing masks now, and both carried the same AK-47 rifle. They moved with some practice, though I couldn’t tell if they were professionals or not.

I cursed under my breath and then yelled indistinctly. They heard my voice and came hustling toward me. I was moving on autopilot, following my instincts and my training, letting the cool, deadly calm of a trained warrior take over me.

I went down the steps and quickly hid beneath them. Claire was poking her head out of the door, and I signaled for her to get back inside. She listened right away, for once in her life. She must have heard the shots and guessed correctly what they were.

I heard the men’s footsteps coming down the stairs. Time felt like it slowed down.

I acted fast. I whipped around the side, bringing my knife up. My aim was true as I dragged the blade along the Achilles tendon of the man in the front, severing it cleanly.

He screamed in pain and toppled forward, his leg useless. His gun began to fire as I moved back under cover. I heard his body thud against the wall at the bottom and his gun stopped shooting. The other man yelled out but retreated upstairs.