Nailed by the Heart Read Online Free PDF Page B

Breathe ...

    His
head snapped up; he breathed deeply. One more breath, then try again
...

    Then-

    Then
his boot was gone. He'd not even touched it.

    It
felt for all the world as if something had snatched it off.

    A
simple sharp tug.

    Gone.

    Shark!

    No.
No sharks in the North Sea. He panted as he trod water. No sharks ...
No sharks ...

    It
must just have slipped off.

    Christ,
this water is so cold ...

    As
his breathing steadied his night vision kicked in. He could see black
mounds of water rising and falling all around him. Dark shapes. They
bulged upward then smoothly deflated. Almost like the black backs of
massive whales breaking the surface in haloes of white foam and
froth.

    The
Mary-Anne!

    The
clouds were being torn apart in the wind, allowing a quarter-moon
through. It lit the sea with a thin, silver light.

    There
she is!

    The
ship's superstructure and red funnel appeared indistinctly through a
mist of spray. A wave came up, blocking his view. The next time he
glimpsed her he saw that her nose was dipping deep into the water.

    Mark
Faust pictured the murdering bastards inside the ship. Surely they
knew by now. He imagined their frantic attempts to escape. Running
through the corridors, trying to salvage as much as they could before
they ran for the lifeboats. If only he could have done something
about them. Hacked holes in the bottom maybe. But he couldn't do
everything. This way there was a chance most would perish in the sea.

    For
a moment he lost sight of her. He swam in the direction in which he
had last seen the Mary-Anne, forgetting that his own life was
slipping away in the cold ocean.

    He
had to see her go.

    It
would hurt him. He loved that ship and her crew.

    They
had been a second family to him. Still, he knew he must watch her
final seconds.

    There!

    Nose
down, stern up. Jesus, she was slipping down like a submarine. The
twin screws chewed at air instead of water. Moonlight glinted wetly
on the massive keel.

    She
was going.

    Anyone
on the ship would no longer be able to stand upright as the floors
reared to the vertical. Screaming, they would be sliding forward to
the bows.

    Mark
tried not to picture the captain-or what was left of the Mary-Anne's
crew. The sea closed men's eyes quickly.

    Oh,
God, please don't let it hurt them ...

    For
ten seconds he was down in the trough of a wave. The next time the
sea raised him up she was gone. Already somewhere under his feet, she
was falling to the ocean bed like a stone.

    All
of a sudden it was lonely out there. The cold bit deeply into his
skin until he felt his bones would crack.

    The
waves seemed to take pleasure in battering his face. Breathing became
harder and pain worked its way like a sharp-toothed worm into his
belly.

    He
attempted to swim.

    As
soon as he did so his body slipped underwater as if someone had
pulled him from below.

    He
didn't fight it. He just slipped down, down, down ...

    Shit,
the pressure ... It hurts. Like metal spikes driven through your
ears, deep into your brain.

    He'd
almost lost consciousness before he resurfaced. Drawing a ragged
breath, he tried to pull more air into his chest than his lungs could
contain. They hurt like-oh for ... Jesus ...

    God,
I want to live, I want to live, I want to live, please, God, let me
live ... I want, I want-

    Down.

    He
was following the Mary-Anne once more.

    This
is it, Mark Faust, seventeen years old, never had a girl, never drank
whiskey, never smoked a cigarette. Ate too much apple pie ... Loved
apple pie, but-

    His
mind began to turn, like a stunt car in a film going over and over in
slow motion, pieces of it flying off.

    Slowly,
slowly disintegrating.

    He
hit the bottom. The shock made him open his eyes. Little bubbles like
silver bells rolled away from his face toward the surface.

    He
wanted to laugh and call after them.

    Wait
for me! Wait for meeeeeeeeeeeee ...

    But
his mouth didn't work anymore; his body was nine-tenths dead. Just a
few tiny sparks of