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Rhino groaned beneath us as if throwing its support behind its sexy captain.
“I’ll pull up anchors.” Her amber eyes glinted as she glared at the hard drive on the table like it was an enemy.
I nodded. “I’ll go help Old Smithy with--”
Something slammed into the fridge beside Indiana with a hollow thud, punching a dent into the rusty surface.
A whistle pierced the air and Old Smithy’s favorite cup exploded.
“Fuck!” I dove for Indiana, wrapped her in a bear hug, and tackled her to the ground between the sofa and coffee table.
A spray of bullets punched holes into the leather sofa I’d just been sitting on, shredding a cushion into a pile of yellow stuffing.
Indiana scrambled beneath me.
“Stay down,” I hissed in her ear.
Six bullets carved through the coffee table and decimated my computer.
Fuck! They’re going after the hard drive.
I grabbed the cable and swung the beeping drive off the table as a row of bullets pockmarked the timber.
“Tyler!” Indiana’s scream pierced the thundering chaos, raw with terror. “What about Dad!”
She writhed beneath me.
“Stay down,” I yelled as I shoved the drive into my backpack.
Bullets carved into the kitchen cabinets. Chunks of my coffee machine sprayed up the wall.
Where the hell is this coming from?
Inching up, I peered over the top of the shredded sofa, searching for a boat beyond the portside railing.
There was nothing but ocean.
Indiana’s rubber raft exploded in a hiss of air. Bullets shattered glass and punctured the metal roof above us. Sunlight speared through the holes, adding crisscrossing light beams to the dim space.
“Where the fuck are they shooting from?” Indiana’s breaths were panicked gasps, a stark contrast to her usual confidence.
“I don’t know. I can’t see a boat.”
Another wave of bullets attacked the hut. Indiana’s Blend 43 jar exploded, adding freeze-dried coffee granules to the mess all over the floor.
“I need to help Dad!” she yelled.
Bullets whizzed through the air, splintering kitchen drawers, shattering crockery, destroying the furniture, and decimating her record player. Their gun was automatic, which was illegal in Australia, and their ammunition seemed endless. Whoever was in control of that weapon was either a terrible shot or the fucking bastard was getting a kick out of destroying Indiana’s boat.
Fury carved through me, fierce and hot.
“Stay here!” I yelled over the thundering destruction.
Keeping my head down, I crawled to my backpack, my damn wetsuit restricting my movements. I pulled out my gun and checked the magazine clip.
Indiana’s eyes flared. “I have weapons in my safe. I can?—”
“No! You stay here.” I clutched my arm around her neck and kissed her forehead. “Don’t move until I return.”
