Read Online In Distant Waters by Richard Woodman - Free Book Online Page A

lip, a great slab of cooled lava that had slipped sideways to form an architrave in the heap of rocks which formed the lower slope of the escarpment. At either end it seemed supported, and softer deposits had been washed out by the water so that, beneath and behind it, a great void opened up, floored by more rock underfoot. Alongside lay the deep pool into which the fall tumbled ceaselessly, its roaring noise buffeting the senses to make thinking difficult. Light entered the cave through the wide silver curtain of the waterfall. Cautiously, Drinkwater moved forward.
    As he saw the cave opening up he realised access was obtainable only from his side. Mount could do nothing beyond cover Drinkwater as long as the captain remained outside the fall. Butit was too late for such considerations. The deserters knew of their presence; Drinkwater hoped they also thought the area was surrounded by Mount’s marines, but, if that were the case, Drinkwater himself was unlikely to be the person sent in to winkle them out.
    His eyes were accustoming themselves to the shifting light. The westering sun helped; the rapid tropic sunset was upon them.
    Deep within the cave he saw a movement. Instinctively he brought the pistol up and pulled the trigger. The gun kicked in his hand and he saw a scuffle of reaction deep within. Quickly he moved forward, drawing the second pistol from his waistband and finding firmer footing within the cave.
    Suddenly he was confronted by Hogan; the man held a levelled musket, its bayonet glittering wickedly in the strange, unreal light.
    Drinkwater fired the second gun, but despite having its frizzen on, moisture had seeped from his shirt and been drawn into the powder by its hygroscopic qualities. The hammer clicked impotently and Hogan lunged.
    His own gun-lock must have been rendered equally useless for he was relying on cold steel. Drinkwater stepped backwards and reached for his sword. The footing was slippery with slime; both men recovered. Hogan was an immensely strong and powerful man and he had Witherspoon somewhere in the darkness to aid him. Outside Mount was shouting something but Drinkwater paid him no attention, his eyes were fixed on the Irish giant. Somewhere behind Hogan, Witherspoon was suspiciously silent. Drinkwater flicked his eyes into the darkness but could see nothing. Hogan shifted his feet and Drinkwater’s attention returned to the Irishman.
    â€˜Don’t be a fool, Hogan . . . you can’t get away with this . . .’
    â€˜You’re alone Cap’n . . . that’s enough for me. Sure, Oi’ll fix me own way to die.’
    â€˜What about Witherspoon?’ Hogan grinned. It was clear he knew of Drinkwater’s fear of the other man.
    â€˜Or Oi’ll fix yours for you, Cap’n!’ Hogan lunged again. His reach was long and Drinkwater fell back, slipped and swipedwildly with his sword. He felt the blade crash against the bayonet and the strength of his opponent as Hogan met the pressure. Drinkwater’s mangled right arm was unequal to the contest. He saw victory light Hogan’s eyes and felt the resistance of rock against his back.
    â€˜Now, you English bastard!’
    Hogan drew back the bayonet to lunge, his teeth bared in a snarl that bore all the hatred inherent in his heart. Desperately Drinkwater flung himself sideways, falling at his adversary’s feet, the wet slime of the rocky ledge fouling him. He rolled madly, aware that he was somehow in contact with Hogan’s feet. He kicked, and suddenly found the edge of the cave. A second later he felt the icy cold of water close over his head. The sudden shock electrified him. An instant later a great, irresistible pressure bore down upon him, punching and bruising him so that, for a moment he thought he was being beaten by Hogan until the roaring in his ears proclaimed the source of the pain was the waterfall itself. Then he was subject to an immense