Numbers Pt. 02

"Hmmm... I wouldn't have a clue," I whispered. Every sound seemed to make my head throb. It was a bad, bad hangover, although without the alcoholic fun the night before.

"Sure..." he said, not believing me. "Well, it was empty. Magically transferred away to other accounts."

"Damn, I hate when that happens," I smirked. My sarcasm was not going to help my head, that was for sure. He got up quickly and smacked me with the butt of the gun causing another round of pain to seethe through me.

"I think you better get me my money before I start cutting off body parts," he yelled angrily, grabbing me by my neck and hauling me to my feet. He used one hand to pin me to the rail while the other held the gun pointed at me. "I imagine you'll talk a lot with a hand missing although your typing skills will be greatly diminished."

"Without me, the money is gone forever, so I suggest you put that thing away."

He smacked me in the head again. "I suggest you start caring more about your manhood than being funny." He pointed the gun down at my crotch, threateningly.

"Ok! Ok!" I yelled putting my hands up defensively. "Look. I'll get you the money, but we have to do it at the bank itself. In Boston. It's in several accounts that don't allow money to be electrically moved from," I lied. "A security feature."

As I had hoped, he brought his hand up to strike me again and I lashed out, grabbing his gun arm and the back of his neck, pulling him into a knee. He had a lot more experience fighting than I and was able to hit me back with his free hand. But the way I twisted made his arm crank awkwardly making him drop the gun. It fell with a thud on the deck.

We scuffled for several moments, moving about the deck and tripping over the different things there. He suddenly struck me square in the face and I reeled backwards, falling to the deck against the rail. He reached behind his back and brought forth a large knife, shining in the sun.

"You are gonna be in a hell of a lot of pain," he growled, walking towards me.

I knew there was no way I was going to survive this. Time seemed to slow down as I watched him approach. Suddenly there was a loud explosion and I felt a warm liquid splatter across me. I stood, dumbfounded, as I watched him stand there snarling at me, but not moving closer. I waited for the pain to begin to radiate through me, for the weakness to take over, for the darkness to blind me. But it never came. He grabbed his shoulder and turned away from me, the knife dropping to the deck.

He moved towards Jennifer quickly but she held the gun pointed right at his chest, forcing him to stop several feet from her.

"Bitch! You'll pay for that," he snarled.

Everything was hazy to me. I don't even remember moving. It was more like a movie was playing in my head. I saw my hand grab the knife. I saw it raise up behind him and then hit him in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious.

I don't remember what happened next, but I found myself on my knees. The next thing I knew, Jennifer was hugging me on the deck, screaming, crying, scared. I just sat stunned for several long minutes. My head started clearing when the sound of the ocean came back to me. I kissed her on the head, pushed away and stood.

We had to think quickly and I dragged his body over to a dinghy hanging by the back of the yacht. I yanked it down and pushed his body into it. Then, with a lot of help from Emmanuelle, we pushed the dinghy off the back of the yacht, setting it loose.

It would be a while before he was found and rescued, and by then, we'd be long gone.

*****

I stood there looking out over the water as the yacht moved up and down through the waves. In this age of GPS and radio technology, I knew I didn't have to worry about getting somewhere. The only question now was... where did I want to go to live out the rest of my life with Jennifer?

At that moment, a tropical beach sounded perfect. One with a bank.