“Never mind that,” he said, yanking at the tape that bound her wrists, “we’ve got to get out of here; the yacht is sinking!”
The tape came free; he grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the cabin door. Then she stopped with a jerk.
“Wait,” she yelled over the roar of water, “my ankle!”
Stone looked down. He had seen such shackles a thousand times when moving prisoners, but this one was longer. One end closed around her right ankle; the other was attached to a U-bolt in a plate welded to the hull of the yacht. He remembered seeing it on his inspection, and now he knew what it was for. “Who has the key?” he shouted.
“The captain!”
“Oh, shit,” Stone said.
“What?”
“Let me think!” He thought. Dino would have a handcuff key on his key ring, he was sure of that. Almost. But he wouldn’t have time to run up three decks, get the key, then get back down before the lower deck was completely swamped and Arrington had drowned. He’d never make it. He had one other chance, though.
“Wait here,” he shouted, “I’ll be right back!”
“Don’t leave me here!” she screamed, clutching at him.
With difficulty, he pulled her hands away. “I’ve got to get something,” he said, then left her. He waded up the corridor to the engine room door, which stood open. The water here was waist deep now, and it was pouring through the doorway. Stone struggled against the current, using the yacht’s handholds. When he got through the engine room door and across the space, he took a deep breath and went under the water.
The engine room deckhead light was still on, but he could see nothing under the water. He felt along the deck, hoping against hope. Nothing. He came up, grabbed another few deep breaths, packing oxygen into his lungs, then submerged again.
He wanted the hammer and chisel, but he couldn’t remember where he had dropped them. Probably the rushing water had moved them around anyway. But his hand touched something else, and he grabbed at it, breaking the surface with the sledgehammer in his hands.
He waded quickly back down the corridor with the water above his waist and got back into the cabin with Arrington. “Get back on the bed,” he yelled, “and give me room!” Seeing the hammer in his hands, she obeyed him.
“Hurry!” she screamed.
Stone grabbed the chain to her ankle and followed it in the other direction, to the U-bolt. Pulling on the chain with his left hand, he swung the harnmer at the U-bolt with all his strength, but he was working under water, and the weight of the hammer had less effect than it would on the surface. He banged away at the bolt and its plate, hoping to God that it was spot-welded and not welded for the whole circumference of the plate.
“For Christ’s sake, Stone, hurry!” Arrington screamed. The water was up to her waist, since she was standing on the bed, but it was up to Stone’s neck.
He didn’t have the breath to answer her, he just kept on banging away at the U-bolt. Finally he dropped the chain, grabbed the hammer with both hands and swung it with all his might. He thought he felt something give. He felt underwater for the chain, grabbed it, and held it above the surface with the U-bolt and its plate dangling from the end. “I got it!” he screamed, and sea water came into his mouth.
Then the lights went out.
52
Stone grabbed Arrington and helped her down off the bed. They had to duck underwater to get through the door, which was now submerged, then surfaced in the corridor, and, half walking and half swimming, they made their way aft. The yacht was sinking much faster than Stone would have believed possible.
Gradually, as they moved toward the stern, the depth of the water decreased, since the yacht was down by the bows. Stone remembered that he had a flashlight in his pocket, and he stopped feeling his way and turned it on. Protected by its rubber covering, it still worked. “Do you remember a stairway back here anywhere?” he asked. The noise of the water coming in was less in the after part of the ship.
“No,” she said. “I was blindfolded when we came aboard.”
“There’s got to be a way up,” Stone said, half to himself. “It would be crazy to have only one set of stairs to all the decks.” He kept wading aft; the water was only waist-deep now.
“Where did you come from?” she asked. “How did you find me?”
“There’s a long answer to your first question,” he said. “I’ll tell you later. As to finding you, I had no idea whatever you were aboard. If you hadn’t been kicking the bulkhead, you’d still be in that cabin.”
“Thanks for telling me,” she said.
The light finally shone on what Stone had been looking for; a spiral staircase was only a few feet ahead. “There!” he shouted.
“Hurry!” she shouted back.
They started up the stairs, but then there was a rumble, and the yacht seemed to stand nearly on her head.
“What was that?” she asked.
“The door to the crew quarters must have given way,” Stone said, “and the water all rushed forward.”
They were now moving almost horizontally up the spiral staircase. They made the next deck and continued to move along, walking carefully on the curved banister risers.
“What do we do when we get out?” Arrington asked.
“Dino is waiting in a boat.”
“Dino?What the hell is he doing here?”
“We’ve all been very concerned about you.”
They finally emerged into the main saloon, which, like the rest of the yacht, was standing nearly on end.
“We’ve got to make that door,” Stone said, pointing above them. A round table was a few feet away, apparently bolted to the floor. “I think I can grab the pedestal,” he said. He stood on the banister of the nearly horizontal staircase, got an arm around the pedestal, and hoisted himself onto it.
From somewhere deep in the bowels of the big yacht there came a menacing rumble, and the ship began her final journey to the bottom. Water rushed at them from below as Stone got hold of Arrington’s wrist and pulled her up with him.
“It’s too far to the door,” he said. “We’ll never make that.”
“Look!” she cried. “The window.”
Stone followed her finger and saw a latch on the window a few feet above her head. “Take my hand and steady me,” he said. “I think I can reach it if I stand on the edge of the tabletop.” He got one foot there and, holding on to Arrington, the other. He flipped the latch and tugged at the window. It slid open about two feet and stopped. The water level was rising fast now; it was up to their necks again, and climbing.
“We’re going to have to rise with the water,” Stone said. “Grab for the window and get yourself out. I’ll be right behind you.”
Then the yacht gave up the ghost and began sliding under the waves. The water engulfed them, but Stone kept the flashlight trained on the open window. Arrington slipped away from him, but he couldn’t see where. Then his shoulders were stuck in the open window. He pushed himself back inside the sinking yacht, stuck one arm through the window, then got his head, shoulder, and the other arm through. As he broke free, he pushed hard off the window sill and made for the air above.
He broke the surface with a shout, expelling all the air he had been saving, and began looking for Arrington.
“Stone, over here!” she called from behind him.
Stone turned and saw her being hauled into a rubber dinghy by two men; one of them was the captain ofContessa. Stone looked around for Dino and the black boat, but saw nothing. He made for the dinghy and grabbed
