Coincidence - Alan May [81]
Which meant certain death. No one could survive long in these waters. So, instead of a swift, merciful killing, a bullet to the head, say, he’d be subjecting Anika—and the guy, too, the doctor—to a brutal, agonizing end by drowning or exposure or starvation or sharks.
There had to be some way to save her, to save both of them. The guards, okay, he hadn’t felt good about having to kill them either, but at least it was all over and done with quickly; they hadn’t suffered. Besides, it was a dangerous job, being a guard for the cartel. They accepted the risk when they signed on. Occupational hazard. And he hadn’t known them personally, either. They were just nameless, faceless guards, hardly human at all.
Not like Anika.
As soon as his watch was over, he would go and talk to her. She’d see that it was in her best interest—and in her friend the doctor’s best interest—to cooperate with him. He wasn’t asking for much, anyway; a small price to pay for the privilege of continuing to exist. She was a smart girl; she’d see. And then he’d only have to get Stefano—and Juan—to see. That would be a little more difficult, but he’d think of some way of persuading them. The first thing was to make Anika see.
Anika didn’t see.
She opened her cabin door a crack in response to Phillip’s tap and looked at him warily.
“Open up,” he said. “We need to talk.”
“About what?” Her voice was flat.
“Your future.”
Anika opened the door just wide enough for him to squeeze through sideways.
Phillip seemed to be taking up most of the narrow space in the cabin. Anika wanted to back away, but there was nowhere to go except the bunk, so she held her ground. She could feel his warmth, smell his breath.
She raised her chin and looked him squarely in the eye.
You had to hand it to her, Phillip thought, you really did. She was one plucky little chick. That was one of the things he liked about her, that air of defiance in the face of danger, that brave façade that masked her vulnerability. But he was going to like unmasking the façade even more.
His voice low, he told her of Stefano’s plan to abandon her to the ocean. Her eyes grew wider, but she didn’t flinch, not even when he told her about the sharks that live in this part of the Pacific.
“I know you don’t want that to happen,” he concluded. “I don’t want it to either.”
He took another step toward her.
“What can you do to prevent it?”
“It’s what you are willing to do to prevent it that counts. Remember, we’re not just talking about your life here, but your friend the doctor’s as well. I don’t think it’s asking too much for you to give me a small token of thanks for saving your flesh.”
“What sort of token?” Anika asked.
She braced herself for the reply she was certain was coming.
Phillip took a step closer. Flesh in exchange for flesh, that was to be the bargain, just as she had known it would be. He was now so close she couldn’t keep his face in focus; his features swam before her like a surreal painting, all leering eyes and greedy mouth. Phillip bent his head down to hers and began to force her lips apart with his tongue.
Stefano would have locked Phillip up along with Anika and the doctor if the little puñetero hadn’t been needed. If he wasn’t too banged up to be useful, that is, after what the girl had done to him. Maybe he should just chuck him overboard.
But his injuries were less serious than they’d first appeared. Stefano and the doctor had nearly collided rushing to her cabin when they’d heard her screams. Phillip was lying doubled over on the floor in a pool of blood, holding his groin and moaning. The girl had sobbed out the story while the doctor cleaned Phillip up and applied a makeshift bandage to his nose, which was never going to look quite the same again.
The muchacha had given him a sharp knee in the cojónes; then, while