Clive Cussler - Wrath of Poseidon

“I hate that plan.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

She shoved on her helmet, then looked back over her shoulder. “Whatever it is, work on it faster. He’s in his car, coming this way.”

She climbed onto the motorcycle behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He started the bike. The rear wheel skidded out on the smooth pavers.

Remi craned her neck around. “Sam! He’s catching up.”

Sam drove faster, trying to put distance between them and Zenos. The car gained on them, its reflection filling the rearview mirror. “Hang on,” Sam shouted, then opened the throttle wide.

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

Remi held tight to Sam while he navigated around the cars, leaving Zenos stuck behind a line of other vehicles. Within a few short minutes, they were out of the town, passing the airport, heading out into the country. She looked in the rearview mirror and saw the blue car in the distance.

Sam never slowed until they reached the small village of Mitilini. A van pulled out from a side street. Sam braked, steered around the vehicle, then continued down the narrow road, having to slow several more times as cars appeared from both directions. After they passed through the village, he picked up speed, continuing on until they reached a small house sitting by itself on the right. He braked, stopping in front of it, studying the road up ahead, then looking back toward the village. Pulling into the drive, he glanced back at her. “Get off. We’re not going to outrun him. I need to let him catch up to me.”

Reluctantly, she slid off. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

“The Cambodia thing. This road was made for that.” He nodded up the hill. The highway stretched out, then curved right before a bridge.

“Sam—”

“Get down. Here he comes.”

She ducked behind a bush on the side of the house as Sam sped up the hill, then stopped in the middle of the road, waiting. He revved the engine, watching in the rearview mirror. The blue car finally appeared in the distance. It continued on a short way as though the driver expected some sort of trap. Sam took off, speeding up the narrow two-lane road. He disappeared momentarily as the road dipped down, then rose. Once again, he stopped. Looking back at the car, he gave a taunting wave.

It worked. Provoked, Zenos hit the gas, racing after him. Sam sped down the middle of the two lanes, playing cat and mouse, increasing his speed just enough to keep Zenos from catching him, until he neared the curve and the bridge. Remi’s breath caught, her heart thudding in her chest, when she realized Sam was going far too fast. He braked into the turn, his rear tire slipping out from beneath him. The bike went sliding onto the bridge, back end spinning around until Sam was actually stopped, facing the oncoming car. Zenos drove into the turn, tires screeching, back end shuddering. His rear fender scraped against the stone wall leading up to the bridge. Sam started driving toward him. At the last second, he veered the motorcycle to the opposite side of the road and the inside of the curve. Zenos yanked the wheel, trying to hit Sam. The overcorrection sent his vehicle spinning. It hit the wall, flipping up, over, and down the embankment. Sam, steering around him, was wrestling for control of his bike. The back end wobbled. Remi wasn’t sure if he jumped or fell, but suddenly Sam was on the ground. The last thing she remembered was seeing him rolling in one direction, the bike sliding out in the other.

Remi had no idea that she’d actually jumped up and was racing down the street toward him, until a small pickup from the village came up behind her. The driver pulled over. All she could do was point. “Accident,” she finally managed.

“Get in.”

Somehow, she managed to climb into the truck. When they neared the bridge, she saw the motorcycle lying on its side. About a hundred feet farther up, she saw Sam sitting on the side of the road. She threw open the car door and jumped out, running over. “Sam!”

He pulled off his helmet, looking down at his torn shirt and a long burn on his right arm. “Could be worse. You think the bike’s okay? Something tells me I forgot to purchase the extra insurance.”

“Forget the bike. What about you? You scared me to death. I can’t believe you’re not dead.”

“I’m fine,” he said, walking over to the side of the bridge, looking down the embankment. The car had landed on its roof. “I don’t think he’s doing too good.”

The man who’d given Remi the ride held up his phone. “The police are on their way. Do you want me to stay here with you?”

“No, thank you,” Remi said. “We’ll be fine.”

After he left, she looked at Sam. “I’m trying to decide if you’re insane or a genius. This is that thing you were talking about in Cambodia?”

“Let’s just say it worked a whole lot better there. Probably the dirt roads.”

Remi wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. As the adrenaline fled her body, she found her knees giving way.

Sam helped her sit down on the side of the road. After what seemed like an eternity to Remi, they finally heard a siren in the distance.

“I’m not sure if it matters to you,” Sam said, “but by the time we get done with the police, we’re likely to miss our ride back to Fourni.”

“The way I see it, that might work out for the best.”

“Why’s that?”

Shaking, she let out a deep breath. “After this? I’m going to need time to recover from the copious amount of drinking I’ll probably be doing tonight.”

“That makes two of us.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

Sam and Remi arrived in Fourni the following morning, dropping off the motorcycle at the rental shop. It was still drivable, having suffered mostly cosmetic damage. Sam—grateful he’d purchased the extra accident insurance after all—apologized once again for the damage as he and Remi left. From there, they walked over to Skavos’s café to meet up with everyone for lunch.

Dimitris, Zoe, Manos, and Denéa were waiting at a table on the patio when they arrived.

“Zoe, you’re looking better,” Sam said, pulling out a chair for Remi.

Zoe, her right arm in a cast and sling, reached up with the other, touching the lump on her forehead. It and the bruising that had settled down beneath her eye had turned from dark purple to a lighter green tinged with yellow. “And feeling better.” She held a photocopy of the sketch from her book, setting it on the table. “What did the professor say?”

“That it was probably a Gorgon,” Sam said.

Remi nodded, adding, “We found a store with a bunch of Gorgon heads that had that same angry look. I even bought one to bring home to you.”

“You did? I can’t wait to see it.”

“Unfortunately, I needed it to ward off evil. It broke in the process. But, good news. It worked.”

Sam glanced at the photocopy of Zoe’s sketch. “I think we can rule out the Gorgon sisters as the model. I don’t see any resemblance to snakes or women.”

Denéa tapped on the sheet of paper. “What about this thing sticking up from the head? Maybe that’s a snake?”

“Why only one?” Manos asked. “That’d make for a pretty sad Gorgon.”

“Maybe,” Zoe said, “it’s a mistake. Or artistic license.”

Sam considered the possibility, then dismissed it. The strokes of the appendage on the top of the head were as bold as those on the face. “I don’t think it’s an afterthought.” He studied the photocopy as he drank his coffee.

Remi, however, was distracted by a gray and white cat with topaz eyes that had meandered onto the patio. It hopped up onto a planter, balancing, its tail straight up, the tip of it twitching back and forth as it stared at them.