Earth Thirst (The Arcadian Conflict) - By Mark Teppo Page 0,15
trying to get him to stop—anything to make the pain go away. Several of my rounds perforate the hose leading to the nozzle, and the pressure drops. The deck is awash with the chemical. My boots are splashing in it.
He's firing his gun at me now. Bullets are shredding the deck all around me. I'm hit again, in the upper arms and chest. My rifle clicks, the hammer falling on an empty chamber. I throw the weapon aside, and dig out one of the pistols. I snap off a trio of shots as he ducks around the fire hose assembly, and I hear him fall and splash on the deck.
My legs are shaking badly. Standing is hard. Doing so without touching the deck is even harder. But I manage. I creep forward, peering around the edge of the bridge housing.
The mercenary is lying on his back. The main hose is still spewing yellow chemicals on the deck. I raise my gun, squinting through the sights.
The mercenary's hands fall away from his chest, and the hand I can see opens, releasing a round object.
Grenade.
I get two steps away when the incendiary goes off, rocking the boat. A flume of water cascades over me. It's tainted by the chemicals, and while it is diluted, it still burns. My hair feels like it is on fire. The boat lurches to the right, starting to list, and the only good news inherent in this change is that the deck is now titled away from me. I'm climbing as I stagger toward the stern of the boat, which means I'm getting away from the chemical agent. It's going in the water, though, and unless I can get off this boat before it sinks, I'm going to end up in a toxic slick that is going to corrode my flesh.
The wind is picking up too. It's as if the storm that has been gathering strength to the south has finally decided to move. In another hour or so, the sea is going to be very unstable.
I reach the stern and look for my Zodiac. I hadn't attached it to the harpoon boat, thinking that, after I had taken over the Cherry Blossom, I would have simply piloted it back to the Cetacean Liberty. Or they would have come and gotten me.
A bad plan, that one. Easy to see now in hindsight. Also easy to get side-tracked in kicking myself for not thinking the plan through. Chalk it up to sea-spawned dread.
The Cherry Blossom has to have its own life boats. Its own inflatable rafts.
The boat is listing more now, tilting a few degrees to starboard.
I don't have much time.
In a locker beneath the rail along the stern, I find the large yellow shape of an inflatable raft. And long plastic oars.
On the open sea. With a storm coming.
It's an easy choice, really. Given how much my legs are shaking. How much my body is quivering with adrenaline and fear.
I have to get off this boat.
I yank the cord that starts inflating the raft, and shove the expanding lifeboat over the railing. I throw two sets of oars down into it as soon as it starts to take on an oblong shape. I shouldn't delay, but I take a few minutes and find the galley of the ship, retrieving as many bottles of drinkable water that I can carry. When I return to the deck, the raft has finished inflating, but it has floated a good twenty meters away.
I'm going to have to swim.
I find a mesh bag for the water bottles and tie the end around my belt. As I clamber up to the rail of the Cherry Blossom, I catch sight of my Zodiac. It's a faint black dot against the sea. Too far away for me to reach it now, but not so far that I don't spend a second lamenting that it isn't closer.
The Cherry Blossom lurches beneath me, and I spill off the railing and hit the water headfirst. My legs start burning all over again as sea water gets in my burns.
When I surface, I've forgotten all about the Zodiac. All I can think about is getting to my raft. Getting out of the ocean.
The storm is coming. The sea is beginning to churn.
I'm a long way from land.
SEVEN
I don't even know how long I cling to the raft. The storm tries to have its way with me, but it is a mild spring bluster compared to the tempests I have