F I V E
“BEN!” I scream, sitting up.
But it’s too late. A second later, they charge us.
One has overtaken Ben, tackling him, while the other two take a running jump right into our boat.
The boat rocks violently as they man our craft.
Logan wakes, but not in time. One of the men goes right for him, knife drawn, and is about to plunge it into his chest.
My reflexes kick in. I reach back, grab the knife from my waist, lean forward and throw it. The knife goes flying end over end.
It is a perfect strike. It lodges right into the man’s throat, a second before he stabs Logan. He collapses, lifeless, on top of him.
Logan sits up and throws the corpse off, and it lands in the water with a splash. Luckily, he has the presence of mind to remove my knife before he does.
Two more come chargin
