happened. I listened for the next bullet to hit and distinctly heard it come through the roof. The chicleros had got up on the hillside behind the cenote and were directing a plunging fire down at the hut.
The situation was now totally impossible. All our added protection was in the walls and it had served us well, but we had no protection from above. Already I could see daylight showing through a crack in the asbestos board roofing where a bullet had split the brittle panel. Given enough well-aimed bullets and the chicleros could damn near strip the roof from the top of us, but we'd most likely be dead by then.
We could find a minimum shelter by huddling in the angle of the floor and the wall on the side of the hut nearest the hill, but from there we could not see what was happening at the front of the hut. If we did that, then all that Gatt would have to do was to walk up and open the door -- no one would be in a position to shoot him.
Another bullet hit from above. I said, 'Smith -- want to break for it? I'll be with you if you go.'
'Not me,' he said stubbornly. 'I'll die right here.'
He died within ten seconds of uttering those words by taking a bullet in the middle of his forehead which knocked him back against the wall and on to the floor. He died without seeing the man who killed him and without ever having seen Gatt, who had ordered his death.
I stooped to him, and a bullet smacked into the wall just where I had been standing. Fallon shouted, 'Jemmy! The window!' and I heard the duller report of the shotgun blasting off.
A man screamed and I twisted on the ground with the revolver in my hand just in time to see a chiclero reel away from the already long-shattered window and Fallon with the smoking gun in his hand. He moved right to the window and fired another shot and there was a shout from outside.
He dropped back and broke open the gun to reload, and I leaped forward to the window. A chiclero was jumping for cover while another was staggering around drunkenly, his hands to his face and crying in a loud keening wail. I ignored him and took a shot at a third who was by the door not four feet away. Even a tyro with a gun couldn't miss him and he grunted and folded suddenly in the middle.
I dropped back as a bullet broke one of the shards of glass remaining in the window, and shuddered violently as two more bullets came in through the roof. Any moment I expected to feel the impact as one of them hit me.
Fallon had suddenly come alive again. He nudged me with his foot and I looked up to find him regarding me with bright eyes. 'You can get out,' he said quickly. 'Move fast!'
I gaped, and he swung his arm and pointed to the scuba gear. 'Into the cenote, damn it!' he yelled. 'They can't get at you there.' He crawled to the wall and applied his eye to a bullet hole. It's quiet out front. I can hold them for long enough.'
'What about you?'
He turned. 'What about me? I'm dead anyway. Don't worry, Gatt won't get me alive.'
There wasn't much time to think. Katherine and I could go into the cenote and survive for a little longer, safe from Gatt's bullets, but then what? Once we came out we'd be sitting targets -- and we couldn't stay down forever. Still, a short extension of life meant a little more hope, and if we stayed where we were we would certainly be killed within the next few minutes.
I grabbed Katherine's wrist. 'Get into your gear,' I yelled. 'Get a bloody move on.'
She looked at me with startled eyes, but moved fast. She ripped off her clothes and got into the wet-suit and I helped her put on the harness. 'What about Fallon?' she said breathlessly.
'Never mind him,' I snapped. 'Concentrate on what you're doing.'
There was a diminution in the rate of rifle fire which I couldn't understand. If I'd have been in Gatt's place now was the time when I'd be pouring it on thick and heavy, but only one bullet came through the roof while Katherine and I were struggling with the harnesses and coupling up the bottles. I turned to Fallon. 'How is it outside?'
tie was looking through the window at the sky in the east and a sudden gust of wind lifted his sparse hair. 'I was wrong. Jemmy.' he said suddenly. There's a storm coining. The wind is already very strong.'
'I doubt if it will do us any good,' I said. The two-bottle pack was heavy on my shoulders and I knew I couldn't run very fast, and Katherine would be even more hampered. There was a distinct likelihood that we'd be picked off running for the cenote.
'Time to go,' said Fallon, and picked up the rifle. He had assembled all the weapons in a line near the window. He shrugged irritably. 'No time for protracted farewells. Jemmy. Get the hell out of here.' He turned his back on us and stood by the window with the rifle upraised.
I heaved away the table which barricaded the door, then said to Katherine, 'When I open the door start running. Don't think of anything else but getting to the cenote. Once you are in it dive for the cave. Understand?'
She nodded, but looked helplessly at Fallon. 'What about. . .?'
'Never mind,' I said. 'Move . . . now!'
I opened the door and she went out, and I followed her low and fast, twisting to change direction as soon as my feet hit the soil outside. I heard a crack as a rifle went off but I didn't know if that was the enemy or Fallon giving covering fire. Ahead, I saw Katherine zip round the corner of the hut and as I followed her I ran into a gust of wind that was like a brick wall, and I gasped as it got into my mouth, knocking the breath out of me. There was remarkably little rifle fire -- just a few desultory shots -- and no bullets came anywhere near that I knew of.
I took my eyes off Katherine and risked a glance upwards and saw the possible reason. The whole of the hillside above the cenote was in violent motion as the wind lashed the trees, and waves drove across as they drive over a wheatfield under an English breeze. But these were hundred-foot trees bending under the blast -- not stalks of wheat -- and this was something stronger than an English zephyr. It suddenly struck me that anyone on the hillside would be in danger of losing his skin.
But there was no time to think of that. I saw Katherine hesitate on the brink of the cenote. This was no time to think of the niceties of correct diving procedure, so I vetted to her 'Jump! Jump, damn it!' But she still hesitated over the thirty-foot drop, so I rammed my hand in the small of her back and she toppled over the edge. I followed her a split-second later and hit feet first. The harness pulled hard on me under the strain and then the water closed
