fired into the torso of the leader beside Sam.
The cabin filled with a sulfurous, choking cloud of smoke, but they could still see the blinding magenta sparks cascading out of the flares, starting the men’s clothes on fire and burning the skin beneath. The man Sam had shot dropped his pistol and used both hands to try to slap out the fire as he hurried down the steps, fell on the deck, got up, and jumped overboard into the water. The leader tried to go down without falling, but Sam planted a foot in the small of the man’s back and propelled him out over the rear deck. The man landed on the deck beside his unconscious friend and then got up and hurled himself overboard into the water.
Sam handed Remi the folding knife from the emergency kit. “Cut George loose.” He grasped both railings of the steps from the bridge and slid to the deck.
Sam glanced up and saw Remi kneeling at the entrance to the bridge, holding one of the pistols the burning men had abandoned. Sam knelt and picked up the pistol dropped by the unconscious man lying on the deck and stood beside the steps that led below to the cabins. He called down, “Come up out of there. Come on. All hands on deck.” As he spoke, he was stepping out of his shoes. He moved barefoot to the upper side of the hatch behind the staircase. A man came up the steps, looking away from Sam. He had a pistol in one hand and Remi’s computer in the other.
“Drop the gun but not the computer,” Sam said. “Set it down gently.”
“Why should I do anything you say?”
“Because I have your friend’s gun aimed at the back of your head.”
The man realized that the voice had been coming from behind him and slowly raised his hands to set the computer and the gun on the deck. Then he turned his head and saw one of his companions lying there.
Sam said, “Your other friends went for a swim. What are you doing on this boat?”
The man shrugged. “We knew any boat coming here would be carrying supplies and equipment because of the earthquake. Why else would anyone come now?”
“You were going to take food and medical supplies from people who need it?”
“We need it too,” said the man.
“What do you need it for?”
“To sell it and make some money. People will pay a lot for those things after an earthquake. Farther down the coast, they’ll pay even more. Food and water are getting scarce. The roads are out, and the power is off, so things in the refrigerators are rotting.”
Sam said, “Well, you’re not going to get anything from us.”
The man shrugged, and said, “Maybe you’re right, but maybe I am.” He leaned back against the rail and folded his arms.
On the steps up from the cabins, there was new activity. The next person to appear was Dr. Martinez. He held both hands above his head. After him came Dr. Garza, with her hands held the same way. Then there was a young Mexican man with an expensive haircut, fitted, expensive jeans, and a pair of cowboy boots that seemed out of place on a boat. He had one hand on Dr. Garza’s shoulder and a pistol at the back of her head.
The young man said, “If you’ll put down your gun, I won’t shoot her.”
“Be careful,” said Sam. “Even hearing you say that makes my wife irritated.”
Remi was at the top of the steps on the bridge, aiming at the young man’s head.
The man leaning against the rail glanced at her unimpressed, and said, “Take his gun.”
The man lying on the deck got up and rushed toward Sam. Sam fired a round through the man’s foot and the man fell to the deck and rocked from side to side, wincing and moaning and holding his foot.
As the young man in the expensive jeans moved his gun away from Dr. Garza’s head to aim at Sam, Remi called from above him, “Last chance to drop it.”
Sam said, “She’s a pistol champion. Do you understand? She can put a bullet through the pupil of your eye if she wants to.”
The man looked up at Remi and saw her sighting down the barrel of the pistol she held with a steady two- handed grip. He considered for a moment, then set his pistol on the deck beside him, as Dr. Garza hurried up onto the deck.
“Now, up with your friends,” Remi said. The man climbed to the deck and joined his two colleagues.
“All right,” Sam called out. “Now, all of you, into the water.”
The man at the rail said, “But—”
“Alive or dead, you’re all going to get wet,” said Sam.
The man translated for his companions. The two uninjured men helped their colleague over the rail, then jumped in after him.
When Sam heard the final splash, he stepped to the stern of the yacht, picked up a can of gasoline, walked to the cleat where the small cruiser was tied, poured gasoline on its deck, then untied the boat and pushed it away from the anchored yacht. The five men swam toward it. When the boat had drifted thirty feet away from the yacht, Sam took out the Very pistol, fired a flare onto the cruiser’s deck, and watched the bright orange flames roar to life. There was a smattering of applause from those left on the yacht.
He walked to the foot of the steps to the bridge. “Juan!”
“Yes, Sam?”
“You and George feel healthy enough to work?”
“Yes.”
“Then start the engines, raise the anchor, and get us to that dock over there. Let’s pick up Miguel and Dr. Talamantes and get out of here.”
Chapter 3
Dr. Talamantes and Miguel boarded at the dock a few minutes later. Both had run back to the beach when they’d heard the news that there was a yacht burning offshore and, when they’d spotted it heading for the municipal docks, they had gone to meet it. Within a few minutes, they were heading southeast along the coast again.
Three more times they stopped at darkened coastal towns to unload cases of clean water and canned food, flashlights, generators, and gasoline. Each time, the three doctors came in the first boatload, equipped with their standard medical kits.
At each stop, after a few hours the doctors would announce that the emergency cases had all been treated and that there were local people who would take care of the minor complaints now that the medical supplies had been delivered. Sam would call everybody back to the beach, and Miguel would take them back in the lifeboat. The last ones off the beach were always Sam and Remi. As soon as they were aboard the yacht again, the crew would raise the anchor, and the vessel would continue down the coast toward Tapachula.
At dawn on the fourth day, Sam and Remi were asleep in their cabin when Miguel knocked. Sam got up to open the door. “What’s up?”
“We can see Tapachula. Juan thinks you should come to the bridge.”
Sam and Remi dressed quickly and headed up on deck. When they climbed the steps to the bridge, they could see why Juan had wanted to wake them. Through the windshield they could see the distant shape of Tacana, the second highest peak in Mexico. It was a dark blue pyramid miles back from the coast, standing alone against the sky. This morning, it was emitting a line of gray smoke that trailed off to the east.
Juan said, “It’s technically active, but it hasn’t had a big eruption since 1950.”
“Did they say on the radio that it was about to do anything?” asked Remi. “Have they told people to evacuate?”
“They don’t seem to know what’s happening yet. They say maybe the earthquake shook something loose or opened up cracks. The roads are out, so I don’t think the scientists have gotten there to measure anything yet.”
“How far is the volcano from the city?” asked Sam.
“Much farther than it looks,” Juan said. “The mountain is four thousand meters, so it looks close. But we’ll
