"Make a deal with the devil!" he snarled and mounted the steps to the bridge. Kaufman was staring at the distant ships through binoculars, and his hands were shaking. "Captain Kaufman! What about the plane? We can't just leave it here! Hell, we can have it flying by the end of the day!

What are we running from?" Kaufman looked at him, and his bloodshot eyes were wide and glassy. He hadn't shaved or even combed his hair in days. There was nothing left of the cocky aviator Brister had first met when he came aboard off Menjangan. His face had the look of a hunted, panicked animal, and his condition had infected much of the crew.

"Here!" Kaufman said, handing him the binoculars. His voice was shrill. In the distance, three red-hulled sailing ships struggled to beat up toward them. He focused a little more, and a chill swept down his back.

"Those aren't people," he said lamely. They were monsters.

"Now you see why we have to go?" Kaufman insisted with manic sarcasm. "Hoist that boat aboard!"

"Wait," said Brister, licking his lips. "The current and wind are both against them. It'll be hours before they reach us. Let us try to finish the plane." He paused and tried a different tack. "If we do, we'll fly to Ceylon.

Get help! Maybe they'll send an escort." That got through.

"Will you stake your life you can take off before they get here?"

Brister nodded.

"Good, because we won't wait. Mr. Monroe!" he said, raising his voice. "Take Mr. Brister and his assistants ashore, then return as quick as you can!"

"You won't even leave us a boat?" Brister asked, incredulous.

"No. You can go ashore, destroy the plane, and come back with Mr. Monroe, or you can try to fly it out. The choice is yours."

Perry shook his head. "Captain Kaufman, you are a coward, sir."

Without another word, he turned and dashed down the ladder. On the way to shore, he told the others what had happened.

"The hell with him. I'd rather take my chances with the plane," Mallory exclaimed. Palmer said nothing, but his face was grim.

"You didn't see what I saw," Brister said. "I think our visitors are the same ones that wiped out . . . whatever they were at Chilachap. It's either fly or die."

The coxswain with Monroe giggled.

They reached the shore and tossed their gear on the beach beside the plane. "At least give us a hand bailing!" shouted Perry as the whaleboat pulled away.

"Mahan's already pullin' the hook!" shouted Monroe. "I'm not going to be left behind." He threw a mocking salute. "It's your funeral!"

"Bastard!" Palmer was seething.

They turned to look at the plane. Brister hoped he could make good on his vow. He didn't know what was coming, but that one look had scared the hell out of him. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

They dove into their task with frantic abandon. They were too busy even to notice when Mahan steamed away, but when they did pause for a quick look, it seemed that one of the strange ships was trying to follow her. It was no use, of course, and it quickly turned back toward the bay.

They'd seen the Catalina, and either the tide was making or the wind shifted just enough, because they were getting closer.

"Bail, damn it!" Brister yelled, and buckets of water flew from the observation blisters. The tide was making, because suddenly they were floating, but they were still too heavy to fly. Mallory leaned on his bucket, gasping, and watched the closing ships.

"No way," he said. "We have to get off this beach before they box us in."

"She's still too heavy!"

"Yeah, but not too heavy to move." He scrambled up to the flight deck.

"Palmer, throw off the mooring line!"

Ed hesitated. "But the fish might get me!"

"Those things'll get us all if you don't! You can reach it through the nose turret! Can you operate the gun?" A .30-caliber machine gun was enclosed in a Plexiglas turret in the nose of the plane.

"Yeah . . ." he said, a little uncertainly, but he dodged his way forward.

The plane was floating almost freely now. A few nerve-racking moments passed.

"Got it!" came Palmer's muffled shout, and the nose immediately swung away from the beach.

"C'mon, babies!" Mallory said, and then whooped when both engines coughed to life. With throttles and rudder, he pointed the nose at the bay.

The ships were much closer, and now he could see the creatures upon them with unaided eyes. "Oh, boy!" he shouted. "Here they come! I'm gonna try to motor around them, so keep bailing till I tell you, but be ready to get on a gun as quick as you can!" There was also a .50-caliber machine gun in each observation blister, but that was the extent of the PBY's armaments.

"Jeez, they're scary-lookin'," breathed Palmer, glancing forward.

"Yeah," panted Brister. "Bail!" Mallory advanced the throttles, and the big plane began to move.

"They're almost making a lane for us, like they want at us from both sides!" he shouted. "I'll make for it. Be ready on those fifties, in case they try to close the gap!"

Closer and closer the roaring engines took them. Soon they edged between the two ships, and the details they beheld were nightmarish.

"Shit!" Palmer screamed when something "thunked" into the thick aluminum beside him. It was an arrow! As quick as that, the plane drummed with impacts. "Shit!" he repeated. "They're shootin' at us!"

"Let 'em have it!" Brister yelled, and they opened fire on both of the terrible ships. Clouds of splinters flew where the tracers pointed, and bodies fell from the rails. A keening shriek reached them even over the guns, the engines, and the clattering, heavy brass cases that fell around them. "Pour it in!" he shouted as the incoming barrage began to slack off.

A big greasy ball of flame erupted right behind the starboard wing and actually singed his hair. "What the hell was that? Step on it, Ben!"

Mallory needed no encouragement. He'd watched the "bomb" all the way in. He pushed the throttles to their stops. Sluggishly, the waterlogged plane picked up speed. The roar of the engines and hammering guns made it too loud to think. Another explosion washed the sea, but it missed them safely aft. The faster target must have spoiled their aim. Then, as quickly as the battle had begun, they sped clear of the monsters' ships and Brister shouted to hold their fire. The other ship was closing still, but at their current heading, it would never reach them in time to cut them off.

Water from the massive wake they made splashed in through the blisters and hissed on the barrels of the superheated guns.

Brister turned to Palmer, eyes wide. "Wow!"

There was still a lot of water in the plane, but they plowed upwind as far as they could before they powered down. Mallory left the motors idling, props feathered, and helped them bail some more.

"Talk about your floating freak shows!" he gasped, throwing water past the gun. "Damn plane looks like a pincushion! Goddamn arrows!"

"Just be glad they weren't muskets or cannons," said Brister. "We wouldn't have had a chance! Arrows and firebombs were bad enough!"

"I'll say! What now?" Palmer asked.

"Keep bailing," Ben replied. "A few hundred more pounds and we'll get her in the air. Then we can dump what's left." He grinned. "Once we do that, start looking for holes!"

Less than an hour later, the battered seaplane clawed into the air and followed after Mahan. Mallory didn't know if the monsters saw them or not, now they were stuck in the bay. If they did, he wondered what they thought. The plane quickly overtookMahan and landed at her side. Brister seethed with rage at the man who'd left them to their fate, but to his surprise Kaufman met them himself in the whaleboat with smiles and waves.