Read Online Shout at the Devil by Wilbur Smith - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Wilbur Smith
Ads: Link
deck towards him.
âIâll tell you what theyâre going to do! Theyâre going to hit us smack-bang up the arse!â Flynn roared. âThatâs the Blücher ! Thatâs a German cruiser!â
âThey canât do that!â Sebastian protested.
âYouâd like to bet? Sheâs coming straight from the Rufiji delta â and my guess is sheâs had a chat with Fleischer. Heâs probably aboard her.â Flynn swayed against Mohammed, gasping with the pain of his leg before he went on. âTheyâre going to ram us, and then machine-gun anyone still floating.â
âWeâve got to make a life raft.â
âNo time, Bassie. Look at her come!â
Less than five miles away, but swiftly narrowing the distance, the Blücher âs tall bows knifed towards them. Wildly Sebastian looked around the crowded deck, and he saw the pile of cork floats they had cut from the fish nets.
Drawing his knife, he ran to one of the sacks of coconuts and cut the twine that closed the mouth. He slipped the knife back into its sheath, stooped, and up-ended the sack, spilling coconuts on to the deck. Then with the empty sack in his hand he ran to the pile of floats and dropped on his knees. In frantic haste he shovelled them into the sack, half filling it before he looked up again. The Blücher was two miles away, a tall tower of murderous grey steel.
With a length of rope Sebastian tied the sack closed and dragged it to where Flynn stood supported by Mohammed.
âWhat are you doing?â Flynn demanded.
âFixing you up! Lift your arms!â Flynn obeyed and
Sebastian tied the free end of the rope around his chest at the level of his armpits. He paused to unlace and kick off his boots before speaking again. âMohammed, you stay with him. Hang on to the sack and donât let go.â He left them, trotting on bare feet to find his rifle propped against the poop. Buckling on his cartridge belt, he hurried back to the rail.
Sebastian Oldsmith was about to engage a nine-inch battle cruiser with a double-barrelled Gibbs .500.
She was close now, hanging over them like a high cliff of steel. Even Sebastian. could not miss a battle cruiser at two hundred yards, and the heavy bullets clanged against the armoured hull, ringing loudly above the hissing rush of the bow wave.
While he reloaded, Sebastian looked up at the line of heads in the bows of the Blücher ; grinning faces below the white caps with their little swallow-tailed black ribbons. âYou bloody swine,â he shouted at them. Hatred stronger than he had ever dreamed possible choked his voice. âYou filthy, bloody swine.â He lifted the rifle and fired without effect, and the Blücher hit the dhow.
It struck with a crash and the crackling roar of rending timber. It crushed her side and cut through in the screaming of dying men and the squeal of planking against steel.
It trod the dhow under, breaking her back, forcing her far below the surface. At the initial shock, Sebastian was hurled overboard, the rifle thrown from his hands. He struck the armoured plate of the cruiser a glancing blow and then dropped into the sea beside her. The thrust of the bow wave tumbled him aside, else he would have been dragged along the hull and his body shredded against the steel plate.
He surfaced just in time to suck a lungful of air before the turbulence of the great screws caught him and plucked him under again, driving him deep so the pressure stabbed like red-hot needles in his eardrums. He felt himself swirled
end over end, buffered, shaken vigorously as the water tore at his body.
Colour flashed and zigzagged behind his closed eyelids. There was a suffocating pain in his chest and his lungs pumped, urgently craving air, but he sealed his lips and kicked out with his legs, clawing at the water with his hands.
The churning wake of the cruiser released its grip upon him, and he was shot to the
âIâll tell you what theyâre going to do! Theyâre going to hit us smack-bang up the arse!â Flynn roared. âThatâs the Blücher ! Thatâs a German cruiser!â
âThey canât do that!â Sebastian protested.
âYouâd like to bet? Sheâs coming straight from the Rufiji delta â and my guess is sheâs had a chat with Fleischer. Heâs probably aboard her.â Flynn swayed against Mohammed, gasping with the pain of his leg before he went on. âTheyâre going to ram us, and then machine-gun anyone still floating.â
âWeâve got to make a life raft.â
âNo time, Bassie. Look at her come!â
Less than five miles away, but swiftly narrowing the distance, the Blücher âs tall bows knifed towards them. Wildly Sebastian looked around the crowded deck, and he saw the pile of cork floats they had cut from the fish nets.
Drawing his knife, he ran to one of the sacks of coconuts and cut the twine that closed the mouth. He slipped the knife back into its sheath, stooped, and up-ended the sack, spilling coconuts on to the deck. Then with the empty sack in his hand he ran to the pile of floats and dropped on his knees. In frantic haste he shovelled them into the sack, half filling it before he looked up again. The Blücher was two miles away, a tall tower of murderous grey steel.
With a length of rope Sebastian tied the sack closed and dragged it to where Flynn stood supported by Mohammed.
âWhat are you doing?â Flynn demanded.
âFixing you up! Lift your arms!â Flynn obeyed and
Sebastian tied the free end of the rope around his chest at the level of his armpits. He paused to unlace and kick off his boots before speaking again. âMohammed, you stay with him. Hang on to the sack and donât let go.â He left them, trotting on bare feet to find his rifle propped against the poop. Buckling on his cartridge belt, he hurried back to the rail.
Sebastian Oldsmith was about to engage a nine-inch battle cruiser with a double-barrelled Gibbs .500.
She was close now, hanging over them like a high cliff of steel. Even Sebastian. could not miss a battle cruiser at two hundred yards, and the heavy bullets clanged against the armoured hull, ringing loudly above the hissing rush of the bow wave.
While he reloaded, Sebastian looked up at the line of heads in the bows of the Blücher ; grinning faces below the white caps with their little swallow-tailed black ribbons. âYou bloody swine,â he shouted at them. Hatred stronger than he had ever dreamed possible choked his voice. âYou filthy, bloody swine.â He lifted the rifle and fired without effect, and the Blücher hit the dhow.
It struck with a crash and the crackling roar of rending timber. It crushed her side and cut through in the screaming of dying men and the squeal of planking against steel.
It trod the dhow under, breaking her back, forcing her far below the surface. At the initial shock, Sebastian was hurled overboard, the rifle thrown from his hands. He struck the armoured plate of the cruiser a glancing blow and then dropped into the sea beside her. The thrust of the bow wave tumbled him aside, else he would have been dragged along the hull and his body shredded against the steel plate.
He surfaced just in time to suck a lungful of air before the turbulence of the great screws caught him and plucked him under again, driving him deep so the pressure stabbed like red-hot needles in his eardrums. He felt himself swirled
end over end, buffered, shaken vigorously as the water tore at his body.
Colour flashed and zigzagged behind his closed eyelids. There was a suffocating pain in his chest and his lungs pumped, urgently craving air, but he sealed his lips and kicked out with his legs, clawing at the water with his hands.
The churning wake of the cruiser released its grip upon him, and he was shot to the
Similar Books
