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“Good call—go! Go!”
More shots, but they’d made ground, and she sprinted toward the massive boat, held at a launch angle at the stern. An orange tub, it held maybe a dozen people, max, and looked like it had been last attached during the time of Stalin.
But beggars…
She scrambled up the stairs.
“Get inside! I’ll unhook the lashing line!” Ned said.
She removed the safety pin and unlatched the door as he unhooked the battery cable.
“It’s stuck!” She yanked on the door latch again.
More shots, and she ducked as Ned came behind her and wrenched the door open.
“In!”
She nearly fell in, catching herself on one of the chairs. They faced backward, toward the back door.
“Strap in!” Ned followed her, his feet on the chairs, holding himself up as he latched the doors.
A barrage of shots.
“We need to get off before they shred this thing!” Ned grabbed her, pulled her into the seat. “Belt in!”
Then he climbed up to the cockpit above.
She belted in, a cross strap over her body.
“Hold on to the seat in front of you!”
She grabbed her seat and looked up to see him belted in, then pumping a release handle.
Go, go—
More shots fired, and she wanted to scream, but they didn’t seem to penetrate the boat.
“Hold on!”
They didn’t move.
“Ned?”
“The brakes are still on—”
She watched as he broke an acrylic cover off a gear, then grabbed a bolt and inserted it onto one of the gears.
Pounding on the outside of the door, and the latch wiggled—
“They’re coming—”
The boat released. Just like that, it slid, then picked up speed.
“Hold—”
They slammed into the water so hard she jerked in her seat. Then suddenly, they were floating, thrashing in the waves, but…
Off. The. Ship.
