Dead in the Water by Robin Stevenson

still behind my back. I looked around. Blair was standing warily by the cabin door, a gun in his hand. A bright, orange gun. I blinked a couple of times and realized what it was: the flare gun from
Jeopardy
. Joey handed him a loose padlock from one of the cockpit lockers, and Blair used it to lock the door. On the other side, behind the dark Plexiglas, I could hear the three men shouting and swearing.
    â€œJeez...” I tried to think, but nothing quite made sense. I stepped toward Olivia, grinning. “I’ll untie you,” I said. “Umm...” I realized my own hands were still tied.
    â€œMy hero,” Olivia said sarcastically.
    Joey noticed our predicament and came to the rescue, unwrapping the tight layers of sticky duct tape and freeing first my hands and then Olivia’s. I fumbled on the floor, found my glasses and put them on. Everything slid back into focus.
    â€œWhat if they manage to climb out a window?” Olivia whispered. “I bet the tall skinny guy could fit.”
    Blair shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll shoot them.”
    â€œWould that work?” I asked quietly. “I mean, it’s just a flare gun.”
    We all looked at each other. None of us knew the answer. Patrick had yelled, “He’s got a gun!” He would have recognized his own flare gun though. Had he been trying to save us somehow, to give us a chance to get away?
    â€œLet’s get out of here,” Olivia said.
    â€œWe’d better take their runabout,” I said. “It’ll be faster than the sailboat.”
    Olivia nodded agreement. “I’ll see if the keys are in it.”
    A minute later, she was back, shaking her head. “We’ll have to take
Jeopardy
.”
    â€œThen we better do something about this boat,” I said. My brain finally seemed to be working again. “Once we’re gone— once Blair’s not standing there with a gun in his hand—they’ll manage to squeeze out a window, or at least the skinny guy will, and he’ll let the others out. We need to make sure they can’t follow us.”
    â€œWell, let’s hope there’s engine access from out here,” Olivia said. “I don’t really feel like going inside.”
    We all followed her gaze to the cabin door. “No kidding,” I said.
    Olivia dropped to her knees and lifted a panel by her feet. “There it is,” she said softly.
    I looked down at the engine: a big gray mass of metal and hoses and belts. Unfortunately, I’ve never been very interested in engines.“Does anyone know anything about diesels?” I asked.
    â€œI do,” Olivia said.
    The men were pounding on the door and yelling. Ignoring them, Olivia bent down. “That’s the fuel line. If we cut that, they won’t get any gas to their engine. I need something sharp.”
    Joey opened a cockpit locker and rummaged around. He lifted out a toolbox and plonked it down on the floor beside Olivia.
    She pulled out a utility knife and began slashing away methodically. Finally, she looked up at us. “Fuel line cut, water intake hose cut, electrical wires cut.
Salty Mist
isn’t going anywhere.”
    â€œNice work,” I told her, nodding. I was impressed.
    She grinned; then she leaned over and tapped her finger against the fuel gauge. “Their gas tank’s pretty low. Let’s take the extra jerry cans, just in case,” she said.
    It seemed like overkill to me, but I grabbed the fuel jugs that were strapped to the sternrail and lowered them into our dinghy. “What about the runabout? Should we take it with us?”
    She hesitated. “Isn’t that stealing?”
    Joey snorted. “These guys were going to kill you, Olivia. I think we can justify taking their boat.”
    â€œJust untie it,” Blair said. “It’ll drift away pretty fast. Towing it will slow
Jeopardy
down.”
    Joey untied the runabout, and we