Caspian Hope – Written By Stephen Fahey. Part 72

“Sir, he threw himself on board.”

“Sir, he’s…Sir, he’s down.”

“What happened!?”

“Dunno, Sir. Someone got him.”

I turned to my left and saw Bacon kneeling down on the southern end of the mouth of the harbour, raising his rifle and pulling back the bolt. He had seen what was happening and dealt with it of his own accord. Just then, it struck thirty minutes. It felt awful, there was still no sign of Swanson. We’d waited as long as we could.

“Sir. We have to go, Sir.”

Sir.”

“I know. Just wait.”

“Sir.”

“We have to give him all the time we can.”

“Sir.”

“He’ll be here!”

It didn’t take two more minutes, and with god knows what coming our way, every second was agonising. Shots came from afar.

CONTACT SOUTH!!” roared Baldy from the deck.

I jumped to the portside window and saw flashes of light come from muzzles onshore. There wasn’t any zipping or popping of bullets near us, but the sound of several rifles being worked at the southern seawall was clear as day.

“Aww FUCK! FULL AHEAD SIR!! FULL AHEAD!!” screamed Collins as he and Baldy dove across the deck to cut the moorings.

I didn’t even hesitate. I just reached for the throttle and hammered it forward. The boat lurched and then heaved forward, slow at first, but building its pace. The fishing line went taught after a moment and then went limp as the pins came free, signalling the inevitable.

THERE HE IS, SOUTHERN WALKWAY!!”

To be continued…

© Stephen Fahey

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