Beyond the Poseidon Adventure by Paul Gallico

Author:Paul Gallico [Gallico, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 0440004535
Publisher: Delacorte Press

“YOU’RE A KILLER, MANNY”

8

There should not have been a hold there at all, but Bela was not particularly surprised. It was rumored in the shipping world that the Poseidon’s new Greek owners were so anxious to make the old queen of the seas show a profit that they were mixing freight and passengers, dropping the old five-star standards regardless of reputation, and that they would carry just about anything anywhere. The hold must originally have been some sort of storage space, but, like everything else on the old liner, it had been made to pay its way.

The door opened without a creak on well-oiled hinges. Hely’s hand knocked down the securing handles and swung the door completely around so that she was obscured by it. Nothing happened. No one spoke, no one moved. Everyone’s eyes were riveted to that black hollow. Inside, dimly visible, were piles of packing cases, some smashed. Bela started towards it, saying, “Well, let us take a look . . .” when the tiger bulleted out.

It came from behind the cases. It moved at a fast, low run, as though its stomach were touching the ground, and it hurtled over the obstacle course of the floor quite soundlessly. Jason had turned sideways and pressed himself against the steel upright. It was only about six inches wide and the hot, heavy body of the beast brushed hard against his legs as it tore past. His rigid body swayed from the impact and for a second he closed his eyes. But he did not move.

The tiger stopped suddenly. It was frightened and hungry. When the ship had turned turtle its cage had been smashed, and since then the tiger had been flung about in the darkness of the hold with the packing cases at every new lurch and shift of position. Its great head turned to take in its new surroundings. It was halfway between Jason and Bela, some feet to the left of where Anton held Rogo. It rose on its hind legs, dropped its front paws gracefully onto an oil drum, flung back its head, and roared.

The effect was immediate. The one-eyed gunman standing in the debris towards the stern fell over backwards as though he had been struck. He lost his gun and without a thought for it began scrambling on his hands and knees up the mound of broken machinery behind him. Bela spun like a dancer and launched himself in a long, agile leap for the rope ladder. Of the two men near the companionway, the one with the thin moustache rocked back against the ship’s side, his gun loose in his hands, and made a low moaning noise; he was quite helpless. The other man dropped to one knee, lifting the metal-framed stock to his shoulder, and ripped off a burst at the tiger’s side. He emptied the full clip of twenty bullets with one squeeze of the trigger. The tiger snarled and twisted under the impact. Then it leapt. It passed Anton and Rogo in two gigantic bounds, and seized the kneeling man by the shoulder.

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