Arrow's Rest Joel Scott (best authors to read .txt) 📖

Albright said, “Wait till he gets closer. Until he idles down and takes the boat out of gear to come alongside. He’ll do it when he’s within three or four boat lengths. When you take him out, she’ll glide right up to us and we’ll have the other two cold.”

Clint rested his rifle on the cushion he’d set on the aft deck locker and knelt down and refocused it. Perfect. Steady as a rock. Christ, it was like shooting fish in a barrel.

“Ready now,” Albright whispered.

The boat was four lengths away, the cop’s fat face wreathed in smoke from the cigar between his teeth, his eyes squinted in concentration as he peered ahead, the stupid hat jammed down low on his forehead.

Clint began taking up the trigger slack, the cop’s head as big as a pumpkin now as he saw the hand pulling back the throttles and he squeezed and—

“Now!” Albright said, and then a big brown man flew across the deck and body-slammed Clint as the world exploded in a whirl of wet fur and shining teeth and a giant wolf seized Albright’s leg in his jaws. He stumbled back into the lifelines and then the man — Loki? — shambled forward with a shimmering knife extended before him and Albright thought he must be losing his mind just as the knife slashed across his face and the blood covered his eyes and he threw his hands up to protect himself and the wolf — Fenrir? — heaved back on his leg and he lost his balance and fell backwards over the rail twenty feet down into the cold black water and disappeared from sight.

Clarke screamed as the wheelhouse window shattered in front of him and hornets stung his neck, pieces of glass flying everywhere, his cheek burning as he stumbled and fell, his hands jamming the throttles ahead.

Legalese’s stern sank as the twin screws bit and then her bow was up and rising over the Blue Harp’s boarding transom and her engines screamed in protest as she climbed up the long slope of the aft deck with her nose rising higher and higher as clouds of thick blue smoke rose up from the engine room. And then Legalese slowed and stopped and her stern sank and the water poured into her and she hung there balanced for long seconds as her engines steamed and died and she settled, slowly grinding her way back down into the water. Clarke rose to his knees, stupefied as Rodgers appeared beside him, carrying Ivery with his shotguns as lightly as a child.

“Time to go,” the big man said and opened the wheelhouse door and took Clarke’s arm and propelled him out onto the deck. They went to the rail and stepped down to the deck of the Blue Harp seconds before Legalese’s bow tilted up a final few degrees and she slid back all the way off the rear deck and disappeared under the water below, a bubbling, oily circle that spread slowly outwards.

Chapter 54

Jared raised his head from the mat and looked around. He’d lain there playing dead for long minutes trying to recover and maybe get a chance to do something. But he wasn’t sure if he could even stand up. When he went to take a deep breath, he almost screamed. Ribs. His whole body was one giant ache and he knew he must have taken further punishment while he was unconscious. Travis no doubt, who had left the ring and was now limping towards Cat. The brother approached her and said something and reached out to touch her and Cat flinched away as Jared managed a feeble shout and rolled over and up onto his knees and almost blacked out from the pain.

For the life of him he couldn’t stand. He could barely even keep his head up. Travis turned and regarded him, shook his head, and went behind the bar and came out with a pistol. As he started back towards Jared, there was a shot from out on deck, a shriek of pain and a loud crash, the sounds of screaming engines that stopped abruptly, and then a loud splintering grinding that slowly subsided. And then silence.

Travis turned and ran towards the door when it suddenly banged open and Clint came through with his hands held high in the air. If Travis had any thoughts of putting up a fight, the sight of Thomas Rodgers with two shotguns and Clarke beside him with a pistol pointed directly at him put them to rest. Travis dropped his pistol and put his hands up.

Jared stood amazed at the sight of the two men and knew he must be hallucinating as Joseph and Sinbad came through the door behind them. Jared dropped to his knees and held his head and then a rough tongue on his cheek, a hand on his shoulder, and the familiar scent of smoke and cedar, and he knew it was real. He started shaking and then Cat was there.

The rest of it was easy. They rounded up the remainder of the crew, all of them loudly protesting their innocence, and locked them and the brothers down below in the room where Sullivan had been confined. “Guilty until proven innocent,” Clarke said. “We can sort it all out later.” Thomas carried Richard Sullivan upstairs and set him on a couch in the saloon, and he and Cat worked to make him comfortable. The lawyer was in bad shape, running a high fever, his broken leg swollen and purple, and passing in and out of consciousness. His pills were finished, and Ivery pulled out a container and gave him some of his. Rodgers strapped Jared’s ribs, and Ivery gave him half a pill as well, and he joined the others at the big table in a benign daze. Ivery sat in an armchair at the head of the table, and it seemed natural that he should