Ghost Ship

Tom’s eyes narrowed, then widened in shock. “Holy shit!” he shouted. “Is that Sam standing on the roof?”

Genevieve peered closer through the windshield. She squinted, brought the helicopter slightly closer, steadied it out, and then she grinned. “Looks like it. I know he’s lost his mind, but honestly, that’s a stupid thing to do,” she reflected, shaking her head. “Someone’s going to get hurt…”

As Genevieve steadied the aircraft, Tom’s mouth dropped open.

“Gen!” he shouted. “There are people on that roof!”

She laughed. “Of course, there are!”

She broke off and stared herself. “Oh, shit,” she said softly.

Three small black figures leveled even smaller guns on Sam from the previous carriage.

Tom swore as they worked their way aft toward Sam who had run out of space at the back of the carriage.

Sam had one gun. They had three.

The odds weren’t good. Tom shook his head and dragged his attention away from the window, waddling forward to join Genevieve in the cockpit. “Genevieve. Do you think you could bring us around to see if we can even the score?”

She didn’t even spare him a glance, just slightly adjusted her aim and the helicopter slid lower into the stream thrown up by the train. “I’m already on it, Tom.”

As Genevieve took the Eurocopter around to the front of the train Tom resettled himself in his seat near the window. He wrestled open the window and let in the roar of the sky and the engines as Genevieve circled back behind the three men advancing on Sam.

Tom leaned out the window and wedged his gun into the void. He had to hang on hard against the massive force of the air trying to rip it from his hands. Tom squinted and aimed.

Though he squeezed the trigger, he heard nothing, drowned out by the roar of the wind.

One of the black suited men dropped to the roof of the train, slid to the edge with a horrible bumping, and flipped off the edge and out of sight.

Tom grimaced and aimed again.

Another silent puff.

Nothing.

Sam struggled to fire off another shot, and then glanced at his gun. Tom swore. Was it possible his friend was out of ammo?

Tom fired again and the man bucked and buckled and was swept off into oblivion.

Sam glanced at the copter and almost lost his balance.

“Oh, you ass, keep your feet!” Tom shouted out the window. “Not gonna save your life just so you can fall off the god damn train!”

He pulled the trigger.

The third figure splattered and slid off the roof, leaving a smear of red Tom could see even from here.

“Go!” Tom shouted. “Gen, get low, go down!”

Genevieve followed his orders and brought the helicopter to hover directly above the first carriage.

Tom leaned out of the window but he was at the wrong side of the helicopter. There was no way Sam could see him from here.

The tiny figure of Sam spotted the copter — how could he not? — and covered his head with his hands.

Tom groaned and yelled to Genevieve, “Get on the other side! Open the door and get on the other side so he can see!”

The helicopter dipped and slid and by the time Tom could see again all he saw was the top of Sam’s head disappearing back down into the carriage.

Tom slapped the window. “Shit.”

Genevieve shrugged. “You have to admit — he didn’t know we were coming. It does look a little… ominous, considering what he just fought off.” She broke off when she saw what Tom was doing. “What are you doing?”

Tom slung his weapon over his neck and around his chest and pushed up his sleeves, making his way to the door at the side of the copter. He grabbed the exit loop and crouched down.

“Get me as low as you can, Gen. I’m going down after him.”

She arched an eyebrow. “I’ll do my best.” She looked at him, directly in his eyes. “Try not to get killed, okay?”

Tom grinned. “Don’t worry about me.”

Then he gripped the ring and vaulted into space.

Chapter Fifty-Five

Sam flattened himself behind the interchanger, buffeted by the wind from the door.

He clutched his empty pistol, trying to catch his breath. Whoever these bastards who were after him were, they had more firepower than he thought. They’d sent helicopters after him. When the bullets had whizzed by, he’d thanked god the rock and pitch of the train had foiled their aim.

They’d taken out their own men, though? He wondered about that in the deafening roar between the cars. Or was this a second enemy?

Sam glared. A second enemy. Christ. Who the hell were these people?

A clank echoed in the between cars and he grabbed the empty pistol harder. If worse came to worst, he could use it as a club. If he could get the jump on them, that was. He had to keep them close. Closer quarters and surprise. That was the key.

The clanks increased and the door rattled. Sam glanced at it.

It opened.

A massive man entered carrying a sub machine gun and that was all Sam saw before he jumped, smashing the empty pistol into the other man’s skull.

“OW!” he shouted. Clutching his temple, the man staggered back. Sam knocked the gun into his jaw and the other man flinched. He glared, and then launched himself at Sam with a roar.