Jack Beale 00 - Dangerous Shoals

the cabin to stow her bag and to see if there was a cold beer.
    Kurt listened to her movements about the cabin and knew that soon she would be his. His heart pounded so loudly in his ears that he was convinced she would hear it. It was getting hot in the confines of the tiny head, and that, along with the anxiety from the painkillers and the anticipation of what was about to happen, was beginning to affect him. He could feel pressure building behind his eyes. Sweat began to form on his forehead. Feeling both faint and nauseous, he looked into the mirror above the sink and only his eyes reflected back at him. He took a deep breath and slowly eased his hand into his pocket.
    He could feel the boat rock ever so slightly as Max continued to move about the cabin. That subtle motion added to his discomfort. There was no way that she could have heard him with all the noise she was making, but every rustle of fabric, as he eased his hand further into his pocket, sounded louder than a roaring jet to him. He couldn’t help himself. Deep in his pocket his fingers finally touched what he was reaching for, and a strange calmness overcame him even though his heart continued to pound. He wrapped his fingers around it, paused, took another deep breath, closed his eyes, and held it tightly. Then, with the handle firmly in his grasp he began to ease it out of his pocket, not daring to exhale.
    As he withdrew the knife from his pocket, he looked down at it. It felt cool in his hand even though it had been deep in his pocket. It hardly weighed anything, and yet now, in his hand, it felt like a lead pipe. Slowly, he released his held breath and listened. He could hear her footsteps in the cabin, and they were moving toward his hiding place. Then, it was quiet again. He held his breath, convinced that she could hear him standing on the other side of the door. The cabin floor creaked as her hand touched the handle to the head. He placed his finger on the button of the blade.
    At the same moment that she began to turn the handle and the latch clicked, his finger touched the button that released the blade of his knife with its corresponding snick.
    As Max pulled on the door, toward her, it suddenly flew at her, knocking her backward, and off balance. She saw only the flash of something shiny and the form of a tall, thin man with crazed eyes flying out at her. The passageway in front of the head was narrow, and before she could react or fall, she was pinned against the opposite side. Her mouth hurt. She wanted to scream or cry out, but any sound she made was stifled by whatever covered her mouth and nose. Panic washed over her as she felt something sharp press against her throat, and all she could do was stare silently into those black, soulless eyes.

CHAPTER 96
    “DON’T MAKE A SOUND ,” the voice hissed at her.
    As the initial shock waned, she began to comprehend what had just happened, and a wave of nausea washed over her. She looked down, as best she could, and saw that a bandaged hand covered her mouth and nose. That hand was the source of an almost metallic taste. It smelled of infection and death, and those smells, mixed with the blood from her split lip, made her want to vomit. Fighting the urge, she swallowed hard, forcing down the bile that was welling up from her stomach. She concentrated on relaxing her body and trying to breathe. She could do nothing else.
    “Now, we’re going to move over there,” he said in a low growl. He nodded his head in the direction from which she had just come. “I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth, but if you make any sudden movement or sound, I will kill you.”
    There was no doubt in Max’s mind that he had stated a fact, not a threat. She nodded her assent. Slowly he removed his hand and she gasped, gulping in as much air as she could. Then, as he nudged, she moved. No more and no less, just what he dictated. In the main cabin, he pushed her down onto her knees, back to him. His hand with the knife pressed down on her shoulder and she could feel the blade against her neck. Max froze, and then she heard rustling sounds before something dropped onto the cabin floor behind her. He grabbed her left arm and twisted it behind her back.
    Max offered no resistance as she remembered his threat. He grunted as he placed something cold and hard around her wrist. “A handcuff,” she thought. She winced as he pressed it closed tight. She felt the knife move from her neck just before he