The second motorcycle halted its attack, and the rider pointed his headlight at the still form. He dismounted, but he knew even before he crouched down beside the twisted body that his brother was dead. He had felt his brother's fear and pain as his neck snapped. Then came a moan that rose to an agonizing scream. A chill went up Gamay's spine as the remaining Kradzik brother began to howl like a wolf. She edged toward the rear of the boat, hoping that if she made it to the deck she'd find another weapon. The brother saw her move. He straddled his bike in an instant. She held her spear out straight. As he came in from the side she felt the spear jerk, then heard a clink of metal. He had chopped the spear tip neatly off with a short handled battle-ax. He stopped and held the ax high above his head with both hands. Then he came for her.

She ran for the stern of the boat. He caught up in an instant and crashed his motorcycle into the back of her legs, knocking her down. Pain shot up from her knees and elbows as they smashed against the hard floor, but she had more to worry about. A figure was standing over her. “My brother... is dead...”

He spoke haltingly, as if he were waiting for a cadenced answer from his twin.

“You killed... now I will kill you. I will start... with legs. One by one. Then your arms.”

With his black leather pants and sleeveless jacket, he looked like an executioner. His teeth gleamed as he grinned in anticipation. Gamay tried to roll out of the way, but he put his boot on her ankle and she cried out.

As the ax came up there was a whirring sound, and he grunted in surprise. His free hand reached up to feel the shaft of a crossbow bolt protruding from the side of his head, but he was already dead by then. The gleam disappeared from the red rimmed eyes, and he keeled over. Gamay rolled out of the way as the falling ax clanked onto the floor. She heard quick footsteps, strong arms were picking her up, and she saw Zavala's familiar grin. Then Austin appeared. He was holding an old crossbow in his hands.

“Are you okay?” Austin asked.

“Nothing a good skin transplant won't cure.” She saw that Joe was carrying the gun he had borrowed from the guard. “Not that I'm ungrateful, but why play William Tell when you had that thing?”

“This throws quite a spray of bullets,” Zavala said. “It's great for cutting down a full assault but not very good for a precision sniper shot. I would have backed Kurt up if he missed.” He knelt beside the dead twin. “You were supposed to hit the apple on top of his head.”

“Next time I'll aim higher,” Austin said, tossing the crossbow aside.

She gave them each a peck on the cheek. “Nice to see you even if I have to endure your dumb wisecracks.”