Wilbur Smith's Smashing Thrillers by Wilbur Smith

staggered over the wildly plunging crests to take off the crew of the stricken lifeboat, and they left the cracked hull to drift away and sink.
    ‘ Three boats ,’ whispered the Captain, ‘ for thirty rafts. ’ He knew that there were insufficient shepherds for his flock - and yet he had to send them out, for even above the wind, he thought he could hear the booming artillery barrage of high surf breaking on a rocky shore. Cape Alarm was waiting hungrily for his ship.
    ‘ Send the rafts away ,’ he said quietly, and then again under his breath, ‘ And God have mercy on us all. ’
    ‘ Come on, Number 16, ’ called Samantha. ‘ Here we are, Number 16. ’ She gathered them to her, the eighteen passengers who made up the complement of her allotted life-raft. Here we are - all together now. No stragglers. ’
    They were gathered at the heavy mahogany doors that opened on to the open forward deck.
    ‘ Be ready! ’ she told them. ‘ When we get the word, we have to move fast. ’
    With the broadsiding seas sweeping the deck and cascading down over the lee, it would be impossible to embark from landing-nets into a raft bobbing alongside.
    The rafts were being inflated on the open deck, the passengers hustled across to them and into the canopied interior between waves and then the laden rafts were lifted over the side by the clattering winches and dropped into the quieter waters afforded by the tall bulk of the ship. Immediately, one of the lifeboats picked up the tow and took each raft out to form the pitiful little convoy.
    ‘ Right! ’ the Third Officer burst in through the mahogany doors and held them wide. ‘ Quickly! ’ he shouted. A ll together. ’
    ‘ Let's go, gang! ’ sang out Samantha, and there was an awkward rush out on to the wet and slippery deck. It was only thirty paces to where the raft crouched like a monstrous yellow bull-frog gaping its ugly dark mouth, but the wind struck like an axe and Samantha heard them cry out in dismay. Some of them faltered in the sudden merciless cold.
    ‘ Come on ,’ Samantha shouted, pushing those ahead of her, half-supporting Mrs. Goldberg's plump body that suddenly felt as heavy and uncooperative as a full sack of wheat. ‘ Keep going. ’
    ‘ Let me have her ,’ shouted the Third Officer, and he grabbed Mrs. Goldberg's other arm. Between them they tumbled her through the entrance of the raft.
    ‘ Good on you, love ,’ the officer grinned at Samantha briefly. His smile was attractive and warm, very masculine and likeable, his name was Ken and he was five years her senior. They would probably have become lovers fairly soon, Samantha knew, for he had pursued her furiously since she stepped aboard in New York. Although she knew she did not love him, yet he had succeeded in arousing her and she was slowly succumbing to his obvious charms and her own passionate nature. She had made the decision to have him, and had been merely savouring it up until then. Now, with a pang, she realized that the moment might never come.
    ‘ I'll help you with the others. ’ She raised her voice above the hysterical shriek of the wind.
    ‘ Get in ,’ he shouted back, and swung her brusquely towards the raft. She crept into the crowded interior and looked back at the brightly lit deck that glistened in the arc lamps.
    Ken had started back to where one of the women had slipped and fallen. She sprawled helplessly on the wet deck, while her husband stooped over her, trying to lift her back to her feet.
    Ken reached them and lifted the woman easily; the three of them were the only ones out on the open deck now, and the two men supported the woman between them, staggering against the heavy sullen roll of the waterlogged hull.
    Samantha saw the wave come aboard and she shrieked a warning.
    ‘ Go back, Ken! For God's sake go back! ’ But he seemed not to hear her. The wave came aboard; over the windward rail like some huge black slippery sea-monster, it came with a deep silent