Vanishing Games: A novel by Hobbs Roger

Author:Hobbs, Roger [Hobbs, Roger]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780385352642
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2015-07-07T04:00:00+00:00

The bullet slammed into the windshield just a few inches from where Angela was standing. It punched out a spiderweb crack and sent powdered glass flying all around us. There wasn’t any gunshot sound, so I didn’t realize what was happening until the second bullet hit the hull right next to me.

Someone was shooting at us.

I grabbed the gun from my shoulder bag and turned my head, peering through the rain and fog for a target. Where the hell was it coming from? Before I could see anything, though, Angela grabbed me by the collar and pulled me to the deck. I dropped my pistol and it slid under the chairs. Three more bullets blew holes in the center console, right where I’d been standing. I didn’t hear any shots, only the thwack-thwack-thwack of rounds hitting the boat. Shards of fiberglass fell all over us. Holy hell. I put one arm over my eyes and pawed around uselessly for my gun with the other.

While I was still getting my bearings, Angela scrambled over me toward the controls. Another shot hit the captain’s chair within inches of her back, but she didn’t flinch. She kept moving until she reached the helm and pushed the throttle forward. The engines roared to life. Angela didn’t look where we were going—there was no time for that. The boat jerked forward, slowly at first, and she took cover under the wheel.

Where the hell were the shots coming from?

I needed a weapon. Even the sound of return gunfire can stop someone from shooting at you, but I couldn’t see my pistol anywhere. Angela’s gym bag was just a few feet away, however. I hooked it with my foot and pulled it over. The AK-47 inside was still dry. Thwack! Another bullet skipped off the hull, then another hit the windshield. As we picked up speed, I jammed a mag into the receiver and pulled back the charging handle to lock the first round. I heard another series of bullets hit the water next to us. They sent up long white geysers in our wake. I switched the gun to fully automatic and turned off the safety. Then, in one quick motion, I shouldered the rifle, popped up from behind the gunwale and got ready to fire.

I couldn’t see a thing.

The rain whipped into my face and the air was so thick I could barely see twenty meters. We were hauling ass now, so the Siren was bobbing up and down something awful. Worse, the fog around us had yet to dissipate and the rain clouds had blotted out the sunlight. I still had no idea who was shooting at us. I panned the rifle from side to side, hoping for a target. Come on, come on. I couldn’t see anything except our own frothy white wake. Saltwater sprayed up at my face and bit my eyes. Off in the distance I could make out a dark green shoreline full of dim skyscrapers. At least there was

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