White Cargo Read Online Free PDF Page B

now.”
    Denny did not reply, nor did his expression change.
    Cat stepped down from the stern and started toward Denny. He heard Katie call his name, and then a flat, heavy object seemed to strike his chest, propelling him backward. As his head struck the yacht’s wheel, a terrible roar filled his head, and he had just time to know that he had been shot before the noise spilled over into his vision, turning everything red, pressing him down, down into a dark place from which he knew he would never rise again. He tried to call out to those above him—Katie! Jinx! But he could only make a rattling noise as his breath left him and he sank into the darkness.

4
    C AT DREAMED . H E DREAMED HEAVY FEET ON DECK, DREAMED shouts, struggle, screams, strange laughter. Gunshots. In his dream there was light, but he could see nothing. Finally, the sounds went away. He retreated again into dark silence.
    There was something cool, then he coughed, strangled, and came awake with the pain. He tried not to breathe; breathing hurt terribly. Then the strangling and coughing came again. There was a salty taste. Was he strangling on his own blood? Then he could see something, a word, sideways. Fuses. He knew that word, had written that word. Sideways. He hadn’t written it sideways.
    His chest was a garden of pain, and he was swimming in and out of sharp consciousness. The bottom drawer under the chart table was marked “Fuses.” Salt water ran into his mouth, and he spat it out. He could not bear to cough again. Gingerly, he pulled an arm under him and lifted his head up and away from the water. A wave of nausea swept over him, but he kept pushing until his head and shoulder were propped against something and he could rest. He fought to remain conscious and orient himself.If he could see the drawers under the chart table, he was in the galley, his cheek pressed against the cupboard that supported the sink. There was an inch of water lapping at the bottom of the cupboard. That offended Cat. This boat had never had water over the floorboards, had never leaked a drop.
    Where was Katie? Where was Jinx? The boat rocked gently, was silent; he felt absolutely alone. There was something he must do, he knew, if he could only remember. His eyes wandered over the navigation station a few feet away; their focus softened, then came back. Something orange. That was what he wanted. He struggled to think, then the orange thing came into his vision. Fastened to the cockpit bulkhead, just next to the companionway ladder. EPIRB. That was the word. What did those letters mean? He could never rattle them off, he always had to try hard to remember them.
    Never mind. Don’t remember. Just get hold of the goddamned thing. He experimented with moving in ways that might not hurt. There weren’t any, as it turned out. He would have to move and hurt, too. He struggled until his back was against the cupboard, his knees pulled up. The trouble with moving was that it made him want to breathe, and breathing hurt.
    Directly in front of him was the oilskin locker, and a yellow slicker dangled toward him. Why did it dangle toward him? It should hang straight down. The boat was listing forward, down by her bows, that was why. He got hold of the slicker with both hands. He would be able to do this only once, he was sure of that. Slowly, biting off groans, he pulled himself until his feet were under him, legs straight, knees locked. Then, for the first time, he saw the blood on his body. His chest was bright red, andhis jeans soaked dark. Don’t think about that. Not now. First, EPIRB. What did those letters mean?
    He could nearly reach out and touch it, two, three feet away, uphill. He would have to pull again. He didn’t want to pull anymore. He pulled on the slicker until he could rest against the oilskin locker, knees still locked, keeping him erect. He got an arm over the top rung of the companionway ladder and dragged himself sideways. He