Free PULAU MATI by John L. Evans Page A

legend for ships taken for ransom or simply looted.  The difference between these guys and the Somalis is these guys aren’t bluffing when they say they will kill hostages.  The Somalis rarely kill the crews; it’s rare when these guys don’t.”
    Melanie raised a hand and headed for the door.  “Enough of this !  I want to find some fishing gear.”
    “I’ll make some rice,” Anna hollered after her.
    “Let’s test fire one of the rifles,” Lex said to Gray.
    “Knock yourself out.   I’ll be interested too as to whether they function.”
    Lex rummaged through the cabinet then straightened and said, “I guess not.  No clip.”
    “They can be fired single shot.”  Gray picked up one of the rifles to show Lex how it could be loaded single shot but the action was frozen, presumably with rust.  The action on the other rifle worked.  He stuck a finger into the breach to reflect light and sighted down the bore to assure it was open.  He dropped a round into the chamber, put the selector on safety and handed the rifle to Lex saying, “Don’t shoot something we don’t want shot.”
    Lex rolled his eyes and went outside with the rifle.   Gray followed.  Lex stepped off the porch and aimed the rifle out toward the dock.
    Gray hollered, “Lex, hold it!  Where’s Melanie?”
    The young man brought the rifle off his shoulder and swiveled his head looking for Melanie.  Movement near the bamboo construction by the dock drew his attention.  Melanie came out from behind it holding up some fishing poles.
    “Oh, shit man!” Lex said, glancing back at Gray.  “Thanks for saving my ass.  She would have never gotten off my case if a bullet had gone whi zzing by her.”  He pointed the rifle in the air and pulled the trigger.
    Grey heard the click but the gun did not fire.  “Lex!  Keep the gun pointed in a safe direction!  It may be a hang fire.”  He stepped down to the young man and took the rifle from him.  Turning his face away from the rifle, he worked the action.  The cartridge flew out and landed in the dirt.  He bent to get a closer look at the primer.  It was not dented.  He picked up the cartridge and showed Lex the primer.  “The firing pin is either broken or missing.  Let’s check the pistol.”
    As they went up the porch steps, Anna and Dayah were coming out.  They were carrying a load of pots, pans, plates and cups to the pool to wash them.  Gray called after them, “Do your washing at the east end where it runs out to the ocean.”
    Anna waggled her hand without turning.  “Yes, yes.”
    Inside, Gray examined the revolver, a very old Smith and Wesson in 38 special.  He checked the cylinder and it was unloaded.  When he cocked the hammer, the cylinder locked up aligned okay although a bit sloppy.  The action was gritty when he pulled the trigger double action but again it appeared to function properly.  He pawed through the boxes of ammunition on the shelf and found one with a handful of 38 special cartridges in it.
    Out side, he loaded and fired the revolver twice at a bare spot of slope on the west side of the clearing.  The bullets kicked up dirt surprisingly near where he aimed.
    “Okay, enough playing,” he said to Lex.  “I’m going to look for two long bamboo poles we can use to make a stretcher .  We can’t carry Lleyton or Malik any distance without one.”
    Melanie had come up and said she had found something that looked like crab traps and some fishing gear.  She and Lex head ed toward the dock.   Gray went back inside the hut.  As he pawed through the shelves and around the cots looking for useful items he tried to decide whether they should move to this side of the island for its convenience and ready made shelter or stay on the other side.  He did not want to be here if the owners returned, although he and the others should have ample warning because the bay was too shallow for an ocean going ship and one could not moor to the flimsy dock. A