The spotlight’s beam swept over the smooth surface of the ocean, moving ever closer to her position.
As if mesmerized by the beam, Kimo froze until the light struck her eyes, blinding her.
“There!” a man shouted.
“Get him!” another voice echoed across the water.
The boat’s engine revved. The bow spun around as the man holding the spotlight shifted to keep the beam on her.
Her pulse spiking, Kimo swam backward. They were coming for her.
As the craft completed the turn and started for her, she tucked and dove beneath the surface, kicking her flippers hard, sending herself as deep as she could get—out of the way of the boat and its propellers.
She swam as fast as she could, going deeper and deeper. The boat slowed over her. The spotlight searched the water, found her and tracked her movement.
Kimo couldn’t go deeper. The ocean’s sandy floor was barely twenty feet down. The clear water did little to hide her. She had to find cover, somewhere to hide.
Darkness rose ahead of her.
The reef.
She kicked hard, aiming for the jagged rocks.
The boat’s muffled motor rumbled overhead. A popping sound reached her ears, and something shiny pierced the water, zipping past her head so fast she couldn’t tell what it was. When another small, shiny object whizzed past the opposite side of her head, her blood chilled.
Bullets. They were shooting at her.
With the reef just ahead of her, she pushed harder, faster, flicking her flippers.
If she could reach the reef, the boat driver would be foolish to follow. She could hide among the jagged, volcanic rocks.
More bullets penetrated the water around her. Something stung her calf, but she didn’t slow. Couldn’t, if she wanted to live.
As she neared the reef, a bullet hit her tank, the loud metal ping sounding like a death knell.
Bubbles erupted around her. She wouldn’t have much time to hide before she ran out of air, and the bubbles would help them center on their target.
Her.
Then again, if they focused on the bubbles, she might be able to slip away.
Within a couple of yards of the reef, Kimo released the clips on her BCD, took a long last breath, spit the regulator from her mouth and let the BCD and tank sink to the ocean floor.
She swam for the reef, ducked into the maze of rocks and coral, releasing only a small stream of air from her lungs a little at a time. The bullets stopped streaming past her, but she could hear the fading pops. Once in the middle of the rocky outcroppings, she found a place where the rocks cleared the surface. Her lungs screaming for air, she surfaced long enough to take a breath, clear her snorkel and fit the mouthpiece between her teeth.
With her mask half in the water, she peered around the rocks, at the waves gently splashing, and watched as the men on the boat shined their spotlight down at the bubbles still rising from the ruined scuba tank.
A man’s voice rose above the low rumble of the idling engine. “Can’t see much around the bubbles.”
“I know I hit him,” another man said.
“You better hope he’s dead.”
“What about the girl?” a voice said. “Should I throw her in and let the fish finish her off?”
Kimo’s breath caught and held. They had Alana.
“No. We can’t risk her body washing ashore.”
