Ship Breaker (Ship Breaker #1)(71)

“Let the boy alone,” the captain said.

Nailer glared at her. “You’ve got a better idea? You’re dead either way, right? What are you going to do? Surrender? Let them call you a pirate and string you up?” Nailer scowled. “You swanks are damn soft. You’re afraid to gamble even when you’re already dead.”

The ship lurched underneath them. Everyone reached to catch their balance. Candless and Reynolds exchanged a look. All afternoon the seas had been thickening, and now, as they came out on deck, the water was running high and rough. The hydrofoils kept the Dauntless above much of the chop, but as the waves grew higher, the prow of the ship was starting to bury itself in foam. Candless studied the high-altitude parasails where they flew against gathering clouds.

“We’re not going to be able to stay up on the foils much longer. Not with the ocean running like this.”

The ship surged through another wave, rocking. Water rushed over the decks as the ship plowed out of a trough. The deck tilted abruptly as one of the foils lost its grip in the foam. Nailer grabbed a railing for support. The ship righted itself and lunged forward again, dragged by the parasail high overhead. The storm clouds darkened and roiled like a seething cauldron of snakes. Lightning flickered in their bellies.

“Is this a city killer?” he asked.

The captain shook his head. “No. But still a complication. Makes everything more ticklish.”

“We can dodge them in the storm,” Reynolds suggested.

“They’ll have their radar on us, pinging us the whole way,” Candless said. “The only way we escape is if we leave them wrecked.”

“You could get Miss Nita killed if she’s aboard.”

Candless scowled at Reynolds. “You think I don’t know it?” He looked away. “It’s an ugly business. We’ll put a crew of boarders on, try to pull her off in the confusion.”

“You don’t know it will work.”

“Thank you, Reynolds. I appreciate your input. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let us all die because we’re too squeamish to take the one advantage we’ve got.”

Dauntless hurtled through the storm. When the winds became too uncertain, the captain ordered the high sail reefed. It came down, its monofilament wire ripping and squealing as the cannon reels dragged the flapping parasail toward the deck. A shriek rose over the lash of the storm. The reel jammed. Knot and Vine and Trimble hurried for the cannon. The parasail whipped sideways in the wind and Dauntless heeled with the sudden shifting drag.

From the con, through the rain, Nailer could see the crew fighting with the reel. Beside him, Captain Candless held the ship’s wheel. He shook his head. “Tell them to cut it,” he said.

Nailer looked at him uncertainly.

“Go, boy! Now! Cut it loose.”

Nailer dashed down to the deck. He barely remembered to hook himself to an anchor before he went out into the wind’s lash. A wave washed over the prow of the deck, knocking him off his feet. He skidded into the main mast with a numbing impact. He struggled to his feet and stumbled across the pitching deck.

“Cut it!” he shouted over the storm’s roar.

Knot glanced at him, then up at the captain. A blade came out and with a fierce slash, the monofilament line parted. The wire whipped up and away, writhing like a snake. The parasail disappeared into cloud belly darkness.

Watching it go, Nailer wondered if the ship had lost an advantage that they would miss later. Knot gave him a sad little smile. “Can’t be helped, boy.” And then he was running to join the rest of the crew as they unfurled the main sails in the storm.

Nailer watched in awe as the crew fought to do their work. Rain slashed them. The seas rose and tried to drown them with huge surging waves, but still they grimly wrestled the ship to their will. And Dauntless responded. She surged through the stormy sea, lunging into wave troughs and then climbing their slopes before plowing down into the next deep liquid ravine. All around, waves rose high and monstrous. Nailer clung to the rail, clipped to his safety lines and out of the way of the feverish work as the crew fought their ship forward.

Night fell heavy on them. Except for the occasional blast of lightning, it was black. Somewhere behind them, Pole Star pursued, but Nailer couldn’t see it and had no idea where it was. It was nice to pretend that its sleek outline wasn’t back there, hunting, but it was a fantasy.

Eventually Captain Candless gave the word and they started shunting toward the coast, running closer to where they would attempt their trickery. Despite night blindness, the Pole Star would follow, sniffing at them with its radar arrays. And indeed, when Nailer finally ducked out of the elements to drink a hot cup of coffee, Dauntless’s main radar showed the bloody blip of the fighting ship closing still.

Nailer sucked in his breath. “They’re close.”

The captain nodded, his face grim. “Closer than we’d like. Go aft and look.”

Nailer ran to a ladder and climbed up through the ship’s aft hatch. Rain beat down on him. Salt foam rushed around his ankles as the ship tore through another wave and climbed sickeningly.

Nailer stared back into the slash of rain.

Lightning ripped the darkness and thunder exploded. The Pole Star appeared, closer than he would have guessed, rising over a wave crest and crashing down again. It disappeared again into the darkness.