Survivalist - 15.5 - Mid-Wake (56 page)

Karamatsov’s right hand shot forward and in his fist was the little snub-nosed Smith & Wesson revolver he had carried five centuries ago. “You are dead, John Rourke!”

John Rourke stood there, hands clutched to his abdomen, about to throw himself against Karamatsov and hurtle them both over the edge and into the sea on the rocks below.

And then he heard Natalia’s voice. “No, Vladmir!” And she rose up beside Karamatsov and Karamatsov turned to look at her and in both her tiny fists she held the short-sword-sized Life Support System X and the steel moved in her hands over her head and around in an arc to her right and then—

The Crain knife stopped moving.

Karamatsov’s body swayed.

The little revolver fell from his limp right hand.

His head separated from his neck and sailed outward into the void.

Blood sprayed geyser-like into the air around Karamatsov like a corona of light.

The headless torso of her husband rocked backwards

and was gone over the edge. Natalia screamed. John Rourke closed his eyes. This time, death was forever.