Graham Brown - Ghost Ship

Realizing there was no other way out, Kurt shoved Sienna toward the shattered windows and the veranda beyond.

“Jump!” he shouted.

Sienna leapt without question and Kurt propelled himself and Calista over the ledge half a second later. As he fell through the air, he felt the explosions closing in. Sections of the mansion to their right and left were blown apart simultaneously. The control room followed an instant later, erupting in a fiery detonation just as Kurt, Sienna, and Calista crashed into the deep end of Sebastian’s Olympic-sized swimming pool.

Kurt felt his legs crunch into the bottom of the twelve-footdeep pool and looked up. Seen through the kaleidoscopic lens of the swirling water, the distorted tongues of flame were almost beautiful.

A hailstorm of debris followed, including splatterings of napalm that burned on the surface of the water, and chunks of the stone from the house that crashed down around them like meteors.

Kurt grabbed Sienna to prevent her from surfacing as a second wave of fire streaked above them and retreated.

He could have remained down there for another minute or so, but Calista was struggling to pull free. He doubted she’d been ready for the dive. He gripped her tight and pushed off the bottom, angling away from the house and breaking the surface as the last smattering of fragments dropped from the heavens.

Treading water and helping Calista keep her head above the surface, Kurt turned in a slow circle and saw that half the world was on fire. The top floors of the mansion had been blown off, while the lower floors were consumed in flames. Waves of heat assaulted him, tempered only by the coolness of the water.

“That way,” Kurt said, pointing toward the far end of the pool.

Sienna began to swim, and Kurt rolled over onto his back, dragging Calista in a rescue swimmer’s stroke. When it became shallow enough to put his feet down, he did, and from there they waded to the wall.

As they climbed out, Kurt heard the sound of people approaching. He cocked the old pistol and readied himself for one more fight, but a friendly shout stopped him from firing.

“Easy there, cowboy,” Joe Zavala said as he emerged from the dark.

As Kurt lowered the pistol, several Marines came into view, moving in behind Joe.

“Kurt, this is Lieutenant Brooks,” Joe said. “Lieutenant Brooks, I present Kurt Austin.”

Brooks flashed a grin at Kurt and then seemed to recognize Calista. He raised his weapon.

“It’s okay,” Kurt said, holding out a hand.

“But she’s one of them,” Brooks insisted.

“No,” Kurt said. “As it turns out, she’s not one of them after all.”

Brooks made a quick decision. He lowered his weapon and clicked his radio. “Get the SARC up here,” he said, referring to the Navy medic, two of whom had landed in Dragon Five. “We’ve got another wounded player.”

Even before the medic arrived, Brooks dropped down beside Calista and began working on her wounds.

“What about my children?” Sienna asked. “And the others?”

“Safe and sound,” Joe said. “I sent them for ice cream as soon as the battle got under way.”

Brooks chimed in. “They made it over the wall and met up with a couple of the guys from Dragon Three.”

“Where are they now?”

“Dragon Four swooped in and picked them up,” Brooks said. “They’re already on their way back to the Bataan .”

Hearing that, Sienna’s whole posture softened in a wave of relief. Her chest heaved, and she began to cry again. But this time they were tears of joy.

Kurt smiled. “So I’m guessing we won?”

“We did,” Joe said. “While you were taking a midnight dip with two beautiful women, the rest of us were working hard to turn the tide of battle.”

“Glad to hear it,” Kurt said. “And how are the ‘rest of us’ going to get out of here? We seem to be a little short on helicopters.”

“Dragon Three will max out and take the wounded,” Brooks said. “The rest of us will head for the coast. Madagascar has a pretty limited military — and we seem to be miles from anywhere important — but I don’t want to run into any well- meaning members of the neighborhood watch.”

Kurt nodded. “Are we walking?”

“No,” Brooks said. “My men have rescued a bunch of horses from the stables on the lower terrace. We’ll be riding.”

At that, Calista looked up. “I’ll ride,” she said.

Brooks shook his head. “You’re in no shape to ride, ma’am. You’ll go on the helicopter.”

She stiffened her back and pulled free from his grasp. “I said I’ll ride. Besides, you’ll need someone to show you the way.” “I think we can find the ocean on our own,” Brooks insisted.

“Trust me,” Kurt said, “there’s no point arguing with her.”

Brooks shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

A few minutes later, the group arrived at the stables. The last of the Black Hawks sat in the pasture close by.

Sienna hugged Kurt tightly. “I owe you everything,” she whispered in his ear. “My life, my family. How can I ever repay you?”

“Just go live,” Kurt said. “And tell your husband I’m sorry for slugging him in the jaw.”

She gazed at him with a look of confusion.

“Long story,” he said. “Knowing what he’s been through, I’m hoping he won’t even remember it.”

She nodded, began to cry again, and smiled through the tears. She hugged him tightly once more and then went aboard the helicopter.

As the helicopter powered up and lifted off, Kurt found his way into the stables. Calista was already on her horse, and the others were mounting up.

Kurt climbed on a sturdy-looking animal and took the reins.

“Look at me,” Joe said, “I really am the cavalry. Now I’m even riding a horse.”

Only Kurt laughed. No one else got the joke.

They rode from the stables single file, traveled down the main path and out onto the open plain with the Brèvard palace and Sebastian’s mad dreams burning to ashes on the hill behind them.

Kurt noticed that Calista never looked back. Instead, she led them to a path she’d worn into the soil over the years.

Only now did she realize why she’d always returned to that strange hill where the ship had been buried. Only now did she remember her real brothers talking about a lifeboat. And then Sebastian as a young man with Egan and Laurent, working down there to cover what her mother and brothers had excavated.

Two hours later, they came out onto the shore, where a wide beach met slow-rolling surf. There, Lt. Brooks ordered the group to a halt, made a radio call, and lit a low-light beacon.

After a short wait, a pair of high-speed collapsible boats came racing in from the dark, manned by crews of two in camouflage and face paint. They entered the shallows and coasted to a stop just the other side of the low breakers.

“Someone call for a water taxi?” one of the camouflaged men asked.

With the Marines watching the shore in both directions, Kurt helped Calista down from her horse. She was pale and cold. She rubbed the blaze on the horse’s nose and whispered something about running free. The horse took off, galloping down the shore, and Calista all but collapsed. Kurt picked her up, cradling her in his arms and carrying her into the surf as she wrapped her hands around his neck and held on.

“I should have left from here twenty-seven years ago,” she whispered.

“Better late than never,” Kurt said.

He carried her to the nearest boat and lowered her gently into it. He climbed in after her, and Joe followed suit, as the Marines took spots in the second boat. Moments later, they were cutting through the surf and racing out to sea.

Only Calista was surprised when a great black shape rose up through the water and allowed the boats to slide up onto its back.