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.There were two of them wearing full-body wetsuits complete with black hoods.Both were carrying spear guns.Cole dropped back into the water, then looked around at the volcanic rock jutting out from the sides of the ravine.Beyond, he could see little but the green of the brush.He heard their muffled voices now.They saw his boat.They would know he was close by.There was nothing for it but to run.He had both feet out of the water before he remembered the chain and coin.He stopped so abruptly, he lost his footing on the algae-covered rock and fell back into the water.The sound of the splash seemed to echo off the canyon walls.He stood, ran his hand over his face rubbing the water from his eyes, and in one smooth movement, he scooped the chain up, slid it over his head, and leapt out of the pool.The sharp rock cut into the soles of his feet and the ferns and vines whipped at his bare legs.He couldn’t allow any of that to slow him down.He ran up a narrow animal path, but that route stopped at a huge boulder.He headed straight up the crumbling dirt wall then, dodged around the scattered prickly fruit of a soursop tree.In places, the side of the ravine was nearly vertical, but he grabbed at roots and branches to pull himself up.Crabbing his way across ledges and over rock outcroppings, he tried to keep under the tree canopy, seeking some sort of camouflage.His scrambling feet let loose a deluge of tumbling stones and dirt that would act like an arrow to point out his route to the men following him.His only hope, he thought as he heard their voices in the glen below, was that he had a good head start.The higher he went, the more arid the climate grew and the ferns turned to thorny century plants, easy enough to avoid, but providing little cover.He’d never felt more exposed.The dry sandy soil was easier on his shredded feet, but oddly enough, after the first few steps, he felt no pain.He couldn’t look back.That would slow him down too much.But he could not stop thinking about the men below him with their metal spears and the fact that his most tender parts were out in the open, right above their heads, literally daring them to take a shot.“Shit!” He’d reached over a large rock to get a good handhold, and his hand had come down on a bed of cactus unseen behind the stone.He held his palm up and saw it was covered in a pale blond fur of tiny needles.“There!” he heard a shout below him.Using the side of his hand, cradling the injured palm, he pulled himself up over a dirt ledge and rolled.He sprang to his feet and saw he had come to a flat and narrow plateau on the top of a razorback.He assumed he would start the climb down the other side, but when he ran to the edge of the precipice, he saw that the cliff fell away straight down to the dark sea.The water stretched unruffled to the distant horizon marred only by the white sail of a single boat.He took several steps back from the edge, and from behind him came the huffing and chuffing of his pursuers.One of them was nearly to the top.The cliff looked straight, even undercut, eaten away by centuries of storms.The water below was inky blue, not the pale turquoise of the shallows.He made his decision and started running back the way he had come.The black-hooded man looked startled when he crested the ridge and saw a naked man running straight at him, flailing his arms in the air, and whooping like a Hollywood Indian.The hooded man made it to his feet and began to lift his spear gun at the very moment Cole reversed direction.Cole Thatcher saw a metal spear fly past his right shoulder just as he took a running leap off the cliff and into the air.To continue reading click here to purchase the book in the Kindle StoreABOUT THE AUTHORChristine Kling has spent more than thirty years messing about with boats.Her articles and stories have appeared in many boating publications including Sailing, Cruising World, and Motor Boating & Sailing and her short stories have appeared in numerous magazines and anthologies.It was her sailing experience that led her to set her first nautical suspense novel, SURFACE TENSION (2002), on the New River in Fort Lauderdale.Featuring Florida female tug and salvage captain, Seychelle Sullivan, the first book was followed by CROSS CURRENT (2004), BITTER END (2005), and WRECKERS’ KEY (2007).Her latest book CIRCLE OF BONES (2011) is Christine’s first stand-alone sailing thriller.Having retired from her job as an English professor at Broward College in Fort Lauderdale, Christine lives aboard her 33-foot boat Talespinner and goes wherever the wind and free wifi may take her.Visit Christine’s websiteSign up for Christine’s Inklings NewsletterJoin Christine on FacebookFollow Christine on TwitterALSO AVAILABLEIn the Seychelle Sullivan SeriesSurface TensionCross CurrentBitter EndWreckers’ KeyThe Short Story CollectionSea Bitch: Four Tales of Nautical NoirAvailable in both print and ebook formatCircle of Bones: a Caribbean thriller [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]