Catastrophe strikes in the very first chapter, and readers are immediately launched on a rollercoaster ride fit for adrenaline junkies. The story begins innocently enough with two young couples disembarking the world’s largest cruise ship, the Cosmos Megaliner. Within a handful of pages, the world is turned upside down by a swath of ruthless characters led by a tantalizingly evil villain with the intent – and the means – to bring entire countries to their knees.

Master storyteller, Eric Knight, has woven an instant classic. Intriguing personalities. Unique story lines. Surprises around every turn. This modern thriller is a must-read for fans of fast-paced action and suspense. Buckle up!

Amazon

Excerpt from Terror at 12.5 Degrees © Copyright 2024 Eric Knight

Chapter 1

August 23, 2025   8 a.m.

“Woohoo! Aruba!” Amy Penn exclaimed as she and her three companions walked down the gangway of the Cosmos Megaliner, the world’s largest cruise ship.

Rebecca DeGrass turned and gave Amy a big hug along with “We did it!” – referencing the promise they made to each other years ago in college.

“Okay, ladies. You’re holding up traffic,” a sarcastic nudge from Amy’s husband, Pete.

“Yeah, we’re only on the island for two days,” Jack, Rebecca’s husband, chimed in. “And there’s beer and beach awaitin’.”

The couples zigzagged their way down the gangway, approaching a throng of taxis jostling for position – all eager to take the hundreds of shore-goers to various destinations on the island.

Xavier Malbo, driving a well-traveled minivan with the letters “Sunshine Aruba Taxi” on the side and a “One Happy Island” bumper sticker barely covering a hefty scratch on the sliding door, eyed the moving queue. Spotting an appropriate fare, with professional deft he squeezed the minivan between two other taxis, intersecting the path of Amy and her friends.

“Bon Bini!” Malbo greeted the four through the open passenger window. “May I be of service?”

Rebecca replied, “Bon Bini!” – as she recalled from her Fodor’s guide the phrase meant “welcome” in Papiamento, the local language.

“We would like to go to ‘Baby Beach’ for some sun and snorkeling. Could you take us there?”

“Sure can!”

Malbo bounded out of the driver’s seat and met the group of four at the sliding door. He opened it and helped them into their seats. Each passenger clutched a small day bag that they placed on their laps.

Malbo slid the minivan door closed and hopped back into the driver’s seat. “Baby Beach it is,” he reaffirmed while darting his vehicle into the flow of traffic.

The four were almost giddy at the adventure they knew awaited them. Amy and Rebecca hatched the Aruba plan as a joke while they were both studying for finals in their senior year of college. “If we can ever get through these bitchin’ exams,” Rebecca said, “let’s blow off steam and go to…Aruba.” They both chuckled at the notion, but it stuck.

Amy and Rebecca aced the exams and they graduated. They both received a B.S. in Microbiology from the University of Minnesota. But life interceded in their fledgling Aruba plans.

Rebecca met Jack at her first job. They dated. And a year-and-a-half later got married.

Amy was already seeing Pete at the university. They had been together since sophomore year. Less than a year after graduation, they got married.

The four regularly went on long-weekend trips together. The years went by. Now over eight since the initial island spark. Business for these young professionals was demanding on their time, and they could never seem to wangle a ten-day vacation stretch that would synchronize with their careers. Until now. And the first stop on their multiple-island trek: Aruba.

“How far to Baby Beach?” Pete asked the cabbie.

“Only about fifteen kilometers,” Malbo responded. “We’ll be there in about twenty minutes.” He continued, “Fortunately, I know a shortcut that will get around some of the traffic. It might be a little bumpy. Not all of Aruba’s roads are paved.” With a wide grin, he concluded, “You’ll be in the water in no time.”

Rebecca unconsciously crinkled her brow, as she thought she read in Fodor’s that Baby Beach was a bit farther from the cruise-ship dock than that. Something like twenty-five kilometers. But then she smiled to herself as the local was shaving off distance and time with his shortcut.

The four looked out the windows, their surroundings. Cars, shops, palm trees. They were taking it all in with glee.

As promised, Malbo turned onto a dirt road, which indeed got a bit jarring.

“Sorry for the bumps!” Malbo apologetically said. “Almost there. Just another eight or nine minutes.”

The landscape became scruffy, with short plants and some cacti. The passengers could sense, though, they were still generally following the coastline somewhere off to the right. Instinctively, they craned their necks in that direction.

“Baby Beach is just up ahead. However, that last pothole is making the front end of my buggy a bit swervy. Nothing to be concerned about. Still, I want to check it for one second.”

Malbo slowed down and pulled to the side. He shut off the engine.

The cabbie popped out of the minivan, got on his knees, and looked under the front end. A moment later, Jack slid the minivan door open, stepped out of the vehicle, and said, “Glad to take a look with you. I like working on cars with my father. He’s a mechanic.”

Malbo didn’t respond, seemingly engrossed with his analysis.

The other three looked at each other, a bit puzzled. This is not how they expected their beach excursion to begin.

With the blazing Aruba sun beating down, it only took a few minutes before the minivan started to get uncomfortably hot.

“Let’s see what Jack’s up to,” Rebecca said. “He’s a wiz with cars.”

“He might have to use a coconut for a wheel to get us going,” Amy said with a bit of fun as the three put their day bags on the seats and got out of the vehicle. They made their way to the front, next to Jack.

Still with his head under the front end of the vehicle, Malbo said to himself, “I love it when a plan comes together.” Counting four pairs of feet, he came out from under the minivan and stood in front of the two couples.

“What do you think, sir?” Pete politely asked. “Do you think we can still make it to the water?”

“Oh, most definitely, my friends.”

At that moment, Malbo reached his right hand into the deep lower pocket of his cargo pants. With lightning blur he pulled out a silencer-equipped SIG SAUER P229, and – before the four had a millisecond to react – placed a bullet…pifft…pifft…pifft…pifft…into the forehead of each of the travelers.

Featured on Joelbooks