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Laker swung round and fired at the hatch, then stared in horror as the man toppled out of it, gushing blood, but still clinging on to his gun, jerking the trigger again and again, firing randomly.
Laker winced and shot him again.
More men were coming out of the hatch now, armed with rifles. They must have broken open the cargo and loaded at least three of the guns. They had enough ammunition to hold a siege. They emerged three together, facing in different directions.
There were more men coming up over the rails, too. Hooper was picking them off, but taking heavy fire himself. There was a widening patch of blood on his left shoulder.
Monk saw a man climbing the rigging of the mizzen mast, right above the hatch. His view would be perfect. And if Monk could pick him off, he would fall right into the hatch, blocking all of the men there. But he needed the man to be higher, at least another ten feet.
The man stopped, ready to take aim at Hooper.
Monk fired first, below him.
The man shot back, without aiming, and scrambled higher. Another fifteen feet and it would be too late; he would be shrouded by the rigging.
Orme was cornered between the hatch and the gunwale.
There was no time to warn Bathurst. Monk fired below the man on the mast, then as he was about to reach up to the crow’s nest, he took more careful aim and shot him in the chest. The man let go and plummeted down, crashing into the edge of the hatch and scattering the men there, one falling on to the splinters of the broken wood. His scream was short and terrible.
Suddenly there was gunfire everywhere.
Orme was at the gunwale, shouting and waving his arms.
Hooper was on one knee; his gun aimed carefully, the blood on his shoulder widening.
Laker was aiming steadily, picking off the remaining men at the hatch. He was close to them, dangerously close.
Monk shouted at him, but he took no notice.
Hooper was on his knees, watching the gunwale in case any more raiders came up over on to the deck.
There was more gunfire from the water. It seemed to be all around them. It was Orme who charged across the deck and caught Hooper on the chest with his shoulder so they both fell sideways just as the hatch erupted in flames.
‘Over the side!’ Monk yelled at the top of his voice, waving at the gunwale over which they had boarded and, please heaven, Bathurst and the other boat were still waiting. None of them would last long in the filthy water and the swift, treacherous tide. He had no idea how much ammunition the ship was carrying, but if the fire reached it the whole deck would be sprayed with bullets.
Monk scrambled across the few yards of deck to Hooper, who was trying to get to his feet, swaying dangerously. Now his left arm was red with blood and there was more on his leg.
Monk caught hold of him and for a moment felt his weight. Then Hooper made a surprising effort and straightened up just as Laker came to take his other side.
Orme was at the far side, but now he came forward, gun at the ready.
‘Bathurst’s there,’ he shouted over the increasing roar of the flames and the sharp crack of bullets exploding in the hold. He could not see the other boat. The fire had clearly reached the ammunition. If they had gunpowder too it would all go up.
Hooper half turned, looking to the east where the raiders’ boats lay. None of them had any idea how many more of them there were.
‘I’ll hold them!’ Orme shouted, and then swung around to face the boarders, visible now in the strengthening light.
There was no time to argue. Monk and Laker half carried Hooper across the deck. The hatch was burning fi
ercely now, smoke pouring out of it in grey billows.
At the far side they eased Hooper over, and he clung on to the ropes with his good hand.
Bathurst was yards away, standing well off from the ship, so he could have escaped if one of the raiders had come round from the east side. He was their one connection with help, and he had to know that.
As soon as he saw Monk he grasped both the oars and threw his weight into turning the boat, sending it back to within a yard of the ship’s side. By the time Monk and Laker had lowered Hooper, Bathurst was there to catch him and ease him down.
‘Go,’ Monk ordered Laker.
