Chapter 8 - Fire and Fury
The phosphorus projectile tore through the air, missing Julian’s ear by inches, and slammed into the priceless silk drapes lining the salon’s rear observation deck.
Instantly, a wall of blinding white and crimson fire erupted, feeding voraciously on the dry silk, mahogany paneling, and ninety-proof liquor from the shattered bar. The salon filled with dense, suffocating black smoke as the yacht’s fire suppression systems triggered, unleashing a deluge of chemical foam from the ceiling that made the floor slick as black ice.
“Run!” Julian screamed, grabbing Elena’s wrist.
Dr. Harrison shrieked in terror as the flames leaped across the ceiling, blocking the main exit to the lower decks. Blinded by the chemical foam, the doctor scrambled toward the outer deck, lost his balance on the wet gangway, and tumbled headfirst over the railing into the churning, pitch-black sea below. There was no splash audible over the roaring storm—just the ocean swallowing another soul.
Through the curtain of smoke and fire, Victoria emerged like an apparition from hell. Her face was blackened with soot, her hair singed, her eyes burning with pure, unadulterated madness. She had discarded the empty flare gun and now wielded a heavy brass fire axe ripped from the emergency bulkhead.
“You aren't leaving this boat!” Victoria screamed, swinging the axe with terrifying, manic strength.
The blade smashed into the teak dining table just inches from Elena’s shoulder, splintering the heavy wood into lethal shrapnel. Julian lunged forward, swinging his wrench. The heavy iron collided with the axe handle, the impact sending shockwaves up Julian’s arms, but Victoria’s adrenaline-fueled rage was inhuman. She shoved Julian backward with savage force, sending him crashing through a glass coffee table.
Julian groaned, shards of thick tempered glass cutting into his back and arms, momentarily incapacitating him.
Elena was alone.
Victoria turned her bloodshot eyes toward the bride. The fire roared behind her, illuminating the twisted contours of her face. “You took my son. You took my fortune. Now I take your life!”
Victoria raised the axe above her head with both hands, lunging at Elena.
Elena didn't retreat. She remembered the boat hook. She remembered the freezing water dragging her down into the darkness. She remembered every condescending sneer Victoria had ever directed at her family.
As the axe descended, Elena dropped to her knees, sliding across the foam-covered floor beneath the arc of the blade. The axe buried itself deep into the mahogany floorboards, getting stuck.
May you like
Before Victoria could wrench the blade free, Elena sprang upward. With the momentum of her entire body, she drove her shoulder into Victoria’s midsection, tackling the older woman through the shattered sliding glass doors and out onto the rain-lashed aft deck.
***
