The Gates of Byzantium

CHAPTER 31


WILL




MORNING BROUGHT SALVATION and sent the ghouls back to their point of origin. It wasn’t hard to figure out where that was. All they had to do was follow the jagged lines of white bones scattered across the island, the flesh seared off completely by the sun’s rays. The unnatural mist of evaporated, tainted flesh and ghoul blood lingered in the air long afterward. Thank God for the wind that appeared out of the north to help drive the smell away.

The sight of so many dead ghouls in one place took Will back to the bank outside of Cleveland, Texas, all those many months ago. That was the day he had lost Kate. He didn’t know it until much later, but that was when she had started to slip away. His failure to notice cost them Harold Campbell’s facility and forced them on this journey to Song Island. Maybe, in the long run, it would all work out.

If they could hold the island…

Less than thirty minutes after sunup, Will and Danny emerged from the Tower. Instead of a cobblestone pathway, they followed the bones from the eastern cliff back to the power station in the west. They bypassed the hotel. There wasn’t anything in there they hadn’t already seen last night. The dead would be gone, including Al, Jake, Debra and her son, and Berg. Will didn’t know if Berg had ever made it out of the zip ties before the ghouls had invaded the hotel, and he didn’t particularly care.

He did care just a little bit about the others, especially Al, whose screams were one of the last things Will had heard before the cook had vanished under a sea of swarming creatures. He hadn’t seen what happened to Debra or her son Kyle, though he had seen Jake swinging a golf club when the ghouls had entered through the windows around them. He remembered grabbing Sienna and dragging her away. She had fought him, trying to get back to Jake, and Will had been half a second from letting her go when she had decided to finally stop fighting and run.

That was last night. This morning, they were alive. Most of them, anyway.

Gaby and Josh, armed with shotguns and radios, stayed behind in the Tower. As soon as the sun rose, they could see everything for miles from the windows. The south and east directions gave them a clear line of sight of the lake’s shorelines, including the marina and the two-story house. The Tower, as Will had predicted, made for a brilliant sniper’s perch.

Now all he needed to do was turn Gaby into a shooter…

The others had begun clearing bones out of the hotel and the grounds around it. The light bones were easy to pick up, stack in wheelbarrows, and roll away. They gathered the remains of the dead in a pile along the north side of the island, next to the cliff.

Will and Danny reached the power station and stepped over the trampled hurricane fencing, still half-buried in the dirt. The big gray building hadn’t been touched, but there was a clear path from where the front gate used to be to the small shack. As he got closer, Will noticed it wasn’t really a shack. It was a stand-alone brick building with a steel door that opened inward, revealing very little on the other side. He thought he could hear rustling wind through the opening, though most of it was lost in the loud, rumbling hum of the generator next door.

Will turned on the flashlight duct-taped to the side of the Benelli M4 shotgun and aimed it at the door. Four pairs of charcoal eyes stared back at him before quickly shrinking back into the darkness, trying to escape the probing light.

“Hellooooo, nurse,” Danny said.

They were squeezed inside the building, just beyond the reach of sunlight, simultaneously salivating at the sight of them and morbidly afraid of the brightness splayed across the open metal door. It was hard to tell how many of them were actually in there. Will guessed the building had a flight of stairs that angled downward and under the island. Where the stairs went after that, and where the ghouls came from, were questions that played themselves over and over in his head. The only way to find out was to go into the shack—or find where the tunnel ended, which had to be somewhere on land, along the western cove. Neither option was particularly viable at the moment.

Will walked around the shack to get a better look at what he was dealing with. It wasn’t any bigger than anything he would have found in someone’s backyard. The front was about two meters wide, the length around three and a half. It was concrete from top to bottom, with a flat, unremarkable roof and a metal door.

When he circled all the way back to the front, he took a quick step toward the door and fired with the Benelli. Regular buckshot ripped through a ghoul standing defiantly in front of him. The creature was thrown back by the impact, half of its side shorn off, revealing bone and flesh underneath. It picked itself up and glared at him, gaunt cheeks flickering in the flashlight beam.

“I don’t think it likes you,” Danny said.

Will fired again, taking off the top half of the creature’s head, where its brain would have been if it still had one. The creature stumbled back into the wall of ghouls crowding behind it before picking itself up and looking back at him through its remaining right eye.

“You got any silver on you?” Will asked.

“Just the knife. You wanna reach in there and stab it?”

“Not particularly.” He tried to get a better look at the interior of the shack, but he couldn’t see anything past the squirming black mass of prune flesh. “Basement?”

“Has to be, right?”

“Must be a big-ass basement. How many came out of it last night? A thousand?”

“Don’t exaggerate. A few hundred, at the most.”

“Looked like a lot more than a few hundred to me.”

“Okay, maybe just a shade under a thousand.”

“So where are they coming from? A tunnel at the end of the basement? Connected to the shore? That would explain where Karen went.”

“What do I look like, an island tunnel expert?”

Will took a step back. “How many you think are in there now?”

“Lots.”

“Not very scientific.”

“Bunches.”

“Better.”

“I found my C4 in the Tower’s basement this morning while I was poking around.”

“How many were left?”

“Bundles.”

“That a lot?”

“Better than bundle. See, the plural?”

Will smirked. “So you wanna to blow it up, is that what you’re telling me?”


Danny shrugged. “That would seal the tunnel, wouldn’t it? Cave it in on itself?”

“Well, there’s a problem with that. We don’t know how far or deep the tunnel goes. What if we rupture it, but don’t cave it in completely? Water’s gotta go somewhere once they get inside the tunnel. Like up here on the island.”

“So, no C4, then?”

“We’ll save them for later. I didn’t get farther than the stairs where he stacked our stuff last night. What else did you find down there?”

“There was a pretty sweet tritium ACOG scope in a case. Four-by-thirty-two.”

“Nice.”

“Ol’ Tom’s got some expensive gun habits. I’m mounting it on my rifle.”

“You’re definitely getting sentry duty.”

“Figures.”

“What else did you find?”

“That place is huge. Like a friggin’ pawnshop. Who knows what’s down there? Another ACOG, maybe, if we’re lucky. Maybe a bazooka or a tank, possibly even Jimmy Hoffa.”

“Tom’s been collecting for a while…”

“Yeah. Tom was a real hoarder. A back-stabbing, hoarding piece of crap.” He looked back at the door. “So we can’t blow it up. How do we seal it, keep those pesky buggers from coming out later tonight? This door might not hold forever. Remember that sorry incident with the car back at the bank? That was pretty out-the-box thinking for a bunch of undead prune faces.”

Will thought about it. “I have an idea, but we need to close the door first.”

“Sounds simple enough. Not.”

“Can you reach the door?”

Danny studied the angles for a moment, then shook his head. “Not before they’re all over me.”

He was right. The ghouls were less than a meter inside the open door frame, about the same length it would take to reach in and grasp the lever. Then there was the extra second or two to actually swing the door. More than enough time for a creature to latch onto an extended arm. The only positive was the key, still stuck in a lock four inches above the lever. Of course, in order to lock the door, they would have to close it first.

“We need to close that door,” Will said again.

“Do we?”

“Yes.”

“I’m open to suggestions,” Danny said.

*

SARAH WAS THE one who told them about the concrete mix and unused concrete blocks stored in one of the unfinished rooms of the hotel.

“We never could figure out what to do with them,” Sarah said. “It wasn’t like anyone had ever built anything before. Though I guess Tom had, when he was younger. Can we use them? I mean, if we can’t destroy them, or push them back, what if we just sealed them inside the shack?”

They found the Quikrete concrete mix bags where Sarah said they would be. There were enough blocks stacked on top of one another in a row to put together a small house. All the building equipment was also in the same room.

Will called Josh down from the Tower to help carry everything over to the power station. It took them two hours of trudging back and forth, hauling bags of easy-to-mix and block after block of concrete, before they were even ready to start. It was almost ten in the morning when they were finally able to break their first bag of Quikrete over the mixer, pour water inside with a hose, and create usable mortar. Both Will and Danny had worked construction before, and Will had done his share of mixing and slapping mortar on concrete blocks with trowels when he used to work with his father in the summers.

Lara took a break from bone duty, as the others had begun calling it, and came over with food and cold bottles of water, something they couldn’t get enough of. You could only drink so much warm water before the taste of something cold was like a miracle drug.

“So we’re just going to cover it up?” Lara said, staring at the darkness inside the open shack door, at the unblinking eyes peering back out at her. She shivered a bit.

“That’s the plan,” Will said.

“They can’t break through?”

“Probably not.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“Mostly not.”

“So you’re Danny now, is that it?” She smirked at him. “Bad jokes and all?”

“I’m right here,” Danny said.

“It’ll hold,” Will said, doing his best to sound convincing.

The truth was, he didn’t know if it would actually hold. Or if it proved effective now, how long that would last. The ghouls had proven themselves to be resourceful creatures, and they had unlimited numbers and time on their hands.

Dead, not stupid.

Lara nodded, but looked only partially convinced. “We’re almost done clearing out the bones. I can’t believe they all came out of that one building. Do you think Karen is one of those things staring at us right now?”

“I think she knew she’d survive,” Will said. “It explains the hazmat suit.”

“Like Kevin…”

“Yeah.”

“Then that means there’s a tunnel down there. She would need a way off the island. Plus a way for these things to reach the island without having to swim. And if they need the tunnel, that means the water really does keep them back.”

“Looks that way.”

“Well, at least the island’s safe. Sort of.” Lara shivered again. “Hurry up. I hate the idea of that door open like that, with those things inside.”

She left them, clutching her shotgun as she went.

Will looked over at Danny. “Ready?”

Danny grunted. “No.”

“Good.”

Will picked up the Benelli and took two quick steps toward the open door and fired. The buckshot ripped the faces off the two closest ghouls and they stumbled back into the others behind them. Even before the rest of the creatures had a chance to respond, Will fired again and kept firing until he had emptied the entire shotgun. Each shotgun blast shoved the creatures back little by little. It wasn’t much, but it was just enough.

As soon as Will fired his last shot, he stepped aside as Danny lunged forward and grabbed the door by the lever. The closest ghoul started forward, but before it could get close, Danny slammed the door shut and held on. Almost immediately, ghouls crashed into the door on the other side, banging relentlessly against the steel. The lever moved under Danny’s grip, but he held on while Will grabbed the key, turned it, and heard the deadbolt latching into place.

They both stepped back and listened to the ghouls continue to rain blows against the door.

Danny sucked in a big breath. “Let’s not do that again. Ever.”

“It’s all in the wrists,” Will said, pocketing the key.

“That’s what she said,” Danny grinned.

It took them the rest of the morning to put up a concrete wall directly over the steel door, covering up the entire front of the shack just to be safe. By the time they were done, they were covered in flakes of concrete and rivers of sweat. Will didn’t know what smelled worse—the state he was in this morning, or the way he had been last night while he was running with ghoul flesh and blood stuck to his face.

At ten minutes past noon, they tossed the trowels to the ground and gave the shack a long look.

“You think it’ll hold?” Danny asked.

“They’d need a tank to get through that,” Will said.

“Need I remind you about that unfortunate incident with a car?”

“I doubt that tunnel’s big enough for a car.”


They paused for a moment.

“Has to be a tunnel down there, right?” Danny said.

“Has to be,” Will said.

“Which means it comes out on the other side, on land.”

“Sounds logical.”

“We should find out where that is and close it up like a virgin’s legs.”

“We should, yeah. But not yet. This should hold for a while.”

“You got a hot date I don’t know about?”

Will was about to answer when his radio, sitting on one of the unused concrete blocks, squawked and they heard Gaby’s voice: “Will, Danny, I see movement on land.”

Will snatched up the radio. “Where?”

“At the marina.”

“Cars?”

“Trucks. More than one.”

“Stay with them.”

“Will do.”

They picked up their shotguns and gun belts and began jogging back toward the hotel.

“And here I thought it was going to be a quiet morning,” Danny said.

*

THE DOOR TO the Tower was gone, shattered from last night’s assault. They hadn’t bothered to fix it yet, so Will and Danny ran through it and up the spiral staircase to the second floor, then kept going all the way up to the third floor.

Gaby was at the south window, peering through binoculars. “Two trucks.”

“Marina?” Will asked.

“No. They drove past it and went straight to the house.”

Will walked to the window and picked up a second pair of binoculars dangling from a hook on the wall. He peered through them at the house and spotted two new trucks parked in the front yard, like toys left out in the sun.

He lowered the binoculars and glanced down at his watch: 12:36 P.M.

Danny was peering through Gaby’s binoculars. “More of us, or more like Karen?”

Will looked over at the computer station behind them. Josh had put it back together earlier, but it looked turned off. “Is that thing still broadcasting?”

“No,” Gaby said. “Josh said you told him not to turn it back on yet.”

“Maybe Karen’s in that house,” Danny said. “If we’re lucky, we should start hearing gunshots any time now.” He put down his binoculars and waited silently. Then, after about ten seconds, “Or not.”

“You’re assuming she made it off the island,” Gaby said.

“Of course she did,” Danny said.

“How can you be so sure?”

“She’s a bitch. They don’t die that easily.”

Lara climbed up the stairs behind them. “I heard more survivors showed up?”

“Maybe,” Will said.

She walked over and he handed her his binoculars. She peered through them for a moment. “What could they be, then?”

“That’s the question,” Will said.

“More collaborators?” Danny said.

“There’s always that.”

“God, how many of them are out there?” Lara said. She sounded exasperated.

“Probably as many as the ghouls need,” Will said.

He had once tried to imagine how many blood farms were out there just to feed the millions (billions) of ghouls roaming the planet at the moment, but he had given up after the number became too incomprehensible. It was something he didn’t want to waste too much of his time thinking about. The truth was, it didn’t matter, because it didn’t factor into keeping everyone alive right now.

Will looked over at Danny. “Grab the ACOG. You’ve got sentry duty.”

“You sure you don’t need me out there?” Danny asked.

“I’ll take Josh. Where is Josh, anyway?”

“He went to the hotel to get us something to eat,” Gaby said. She looked over at them, and added, “Can I stay here in the Tower with Danny? I want him to teach me how to shoot.”

“You noticed that she didn’t ask you?” Danny grinned at Will. “That’s because she recognizes skill when she sees it.”

“I just thought because Will was leaving,” Gaby said.

“Ouch,” Danny said.

*

HE WALKED BACK to the beach with Josh and Lara in tow, their shoes clacking against the cobblestone pathway. Will had washed off the grime from this morning’s labor and put on his urban assault vest and comm gear. He carried his M4A1 and was thankful there was plenty of 5.56x45mm ammo in the basement underneath the Tower, enough to feed his and Danny’s rifles for weeks to come. Finding ammo at the end of the world was always the easy part; turning it into silver was the challenge. It was also the priority.

“I’m not sure you should be leaving us right now,” Lara said. “At least take Danny with you.”

“I need Danny’s rifle in the Tower,” Will said.

“Then wait for tomorrow. The marina will still be there in twenty-four hours.”

“We need silver, Lara. Everything we need to make that happen is back in the marina.”

Lara wasn’t convinced. Neither was Josh, who walked quietly next to them. Will imagined the kid must feel caught up in a parental spat. He had given Josh a stripped-down version of their urban assault vest and hadn’t realized how awkward the kid looked until he had strapped it on. Besides his gun belt, Josh carried the Remington over his shoulder. Will didn’t expect the kid to use the shotgun. Fact was, if Josh started shooting at all, they were already in deep trouble.

“You already sealed the power station,” Lara said. “They’re not getting back on the island, so we don’t need silver yet.”

“We don’t know what other kind of access they have, and I don’t want to take the chance.”

“Sarah doesn’t think there are any other ways onto the island.”

“Sarah didn’t know about the power station, either.” He glanced down at his watch: 2:10 P.M. “Josh is coming with me, Lara. We’ll be fine.”

“Be serious, Will,” Lara said, exasperated. Then she quickly glanced over at Josh. “No offense.”

“Hey, I agree with you,” Josh said. “I’ll let you guys hash it out.”

He walked on ahead, leaving them on the beach.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Will smiled at her. “Now you’ve hurt his feelings.”

“Will, this isn’t the time to leave,” she said, undeterred.

“It’s the only time. We’re stuck here on this island. We need something to defend ourselves with. We need silver.”

“Okay, let me rephrase that. After last night, I don’t want you to leave.”

He brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “I’m not doing this because I want to. I’m doing this because I have to. You know that.”

“I hate you,” she said, and pulled him to her and kissed him deeply.

Will slipped his arms around her and held her against him, lingering against her lips. She tasted warm, like the sun. Kissing her was always like coming home.

After a while, he had to pull free. “I have to go.”

“Then go,” she said. “And come back. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Do you mean it?”

He looked deeply into her blue eyes. “Nothing in this world can keep me from you. Face it, you’re stuck with me, lady.”

She smiled, then leaned in close and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he whispered back.

He left her on the beach and joined Josh, who was on one of the piers, staring off at the water. The kid looked scared even from a distance.

“That was sweet,” Danny said through the earbud in Will’s right ear. “Make that goodbye a little bit longer and I was ready to call the Guinness Book of World Records. That, or barf into my binoculars. Either/or.”


“You can see me from the Tower?” Will asked.

“The ACOG’s got four-by-thirty-two magnification. I can see the mole on the back of your neck from here. Want me to shoot it off?”

“Maybe later.”

The Advanced Combat Optical Gunsight—or ACOG—mounted on Danny’s M4A1 was a rifle scope that made the red dot sights they had been using up to now look like kids’ toys. It could shoot targets at a much longer range and with more accuracy, with an optimal distance of 800 meters. At over $1,500 apiece—if you could get one for cheap—the ACOG was a luxury.

Will heard Gaby’s voice in his earbud, cutting in on Danny: “Don’t listen to him, Will. That was very sweet.”

“Kids these days,” Danny said.

When Will reached him, Josh tossed him a key attached to a round fishing float. “You know how to drive a boat, right?”

“Just like driving a car.”

There were five boats still tied along the three piers, but they could only find keys to one of them in the boat shack. Will made a mental note to look for the rest of the keys when they had time.

“What if they’re friendlies?” Josh asked. “The people at the house. Why do we have to go around them?”

“We can’t take the chance. Not now. Not after last night.”

“And everything we need is stored in the garage at the marina?”

“Should be.”

“Should be?” Josh frowned. “What if it’s gone when we get there? What if the people at the house raided the garage and took it?”

“They didn’t.”

“But how can you be sure?”

“Because it’s not valuable to anyone but us.”

The boat was a slightly beat-up Carver that didn’t look like much, but it was in one piece and it ran. It had a one-person seat in the middle and an outboard motor at the back that had worked reasonably well when Will had tried it earlier. They were fortunate Debra kept all the boats in good working shape, with plenty of oil to mix and gasoline stored in the boat shack, along with batteries that were being trickle-charged using the solar panels.

“Get in,” Will said.

Josh climbed gingerly into the docked boat, stumbling a bit as the craft shifted in the water under him.

“Relax,” Will said.

Josh gave him a pursed smile as if to say, “I would if I could,” and continued fumbling his way to the seat in the center.

Will untied the anchor rope and tossed it into the boat, then climbed in. He set up the small trolling motor in the back, connecting it to a reserve battery. The trolling motor looked like a long, skinny paddle with propellers at one end and a small hand-held motor on the other. It was battery-powered, which meant it was slower than the main outboard motor. But it was also quiet, especially when the propellers were under water. The purpose of a trolling motor wasn’t to go fast, it was simply to go while making as few waves and as little noise as possible.

Will put his rifle on the floor and sat down on the bench at the back. He flicked the switch and the trolling motor powered up with a slow whine. When Will dipped the propellers into the water, the whine became a quiet hum that vibrated through the thin fiberglass of the boat. They heard and felt it because they were connected to it.

Will pressed his radio’s PTT. “Can you hear us?”

“Not a peep,” Danny said through his earbud.

“All right, we’re heading out.”

“Vaya con dios. And tell Josh to relax. I can see the kid through the ACOG, and he looks like he’s about to shit a brick. Or a dozen.”

Will looked over at Lara, watching him from the beach. She hadn’t moved from the spot where he had left her a few minutes ago. She waved tentatively, and he waved back.

“I’ll see you when I see you,” Will said. “Watch Lara for me.”

“Okay, but Carly’s already a handful. I’m not sure I can add another hot babe to my harem. But I’ll give it a shot. What are friends for?”

Will maneuvered the Carver from the pier, then turned completely around and aimed it west, away from the marina and the house.

They hadn’t gone very far before Josh glanced back at him. “Is this the fastest this thing can go?”

“It’s a trolling motor, Josh. It’s not meant to go fast. It’s meant to go quietly.”

“Yeah, but this is it?”

“This is it. What’s on your mind?”

He hesitated, then said, “It seems awfully slow, that’s all.”

“You got somewhere else to be?”

“Nah, not really,” Josh said, and turned back around.

Will’s earbud clicked and he heard Danny’s voice again: “Hey, old-timer, you left your turn signal blinking.”

Will smiled.

He looked at the wide-open lake in front of him and for a moment allowed himself to enjoy the picturesque surroundings. There was a slight breeze, but not enough to rock the Carver. Pelicans flew overhead. A big striped fish showed itself a few meters to his right, only to dive back into the water a second later. If Will closed his eyes, he could almost believe there was absolutely nothing wrong with the world.

*

AFTER A WHILE, Will decided they had gone out far enough and began angling the Carver back toward land. He could see Route 27 in the distance, flat and empty. The inlet connecting the lake to the marina was also visible.

“I didn’t think we would ever turn back around,” Josh said.

“You play a lot of videogames, Josh?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Just a lucky guess.”

They traveled for another long stretch, the trolling motor doing its job, barely creating any ripples in their wake. Will eyed the inlet entrance in the distance, though that wasn’t his destination. The inlet was too close to the house, easily visible, especially from the house’s second floor. He would have preferred to do the work under cover of night, the way he was trained, but darkness had ceased to be his friend months ago.

Adapt or perish.

Will heard them before he saw the sun glinting off their roofs. They were moving fast down Route 27, which ran parallel to the shoreline.

He reached back and flicked off the trolling motor and said, “Down, Josh.”

Josh looked back, confused. Will lowered himself to the bottom of the boat, making himself small. Josh got the hint and almost leaped to the floor of the Carver as the trucks flashed by on the road.

Will counted one, two…three.

They were moving fast. Too fast.

Fifty miles per hour. At least.

He took it as a good sign when none of the vehicles slowed down, because that would have meant they had spotted the boat adrift in the lake to their left. All three vehicles eventually slowed down before turning into the yard of the two-story house.

Will heard his right ear click, and Danny said, “You see that?”

“Yeah,” Will said.

“I counted three from a distance.”

“Three. All trucks.”

“Did you see how many per?”

“No, too far.”

“Where are you now? I can’t see you through the binoculars.”

“Southwest from your position. About 1,500 meters from the mouth of the inlet, 500 meters from the shoreline.”

After a moment, Danny said, “Ah, there you are. A tiny, unremarkable speck. Is Josh still there? I can’t tell if that’s another person in the boat with you or a pelican.”

Will smiled. “He’s here.”

Josh, who had picked himself back up from the floor of the boat, glanced back anxiously. “Is something wrong?”


“Relax,” Will said. “We’re almost there. No one’s seen us yet.”

“Yet,” Josh said, flashing Will a nervous smile.

“Stay low, just in case.”

Josh got into an uncomfortable-looking crouch next to the seat. Will wanted to tell him to relax again, but that probably wasn’t going to help. It was liable to just wind the kid up even more.

Will turned the trolling motor back on and eased the Carver forward. He angled the boat southeast, making a beeline for the shore. The ridgelines of the lake were raised high enough that if he could get the boat there without being seen, they could then travel south, closer to the marina, without being spotted the rest of the way.

Eventually, as Will turned the Carver to run parallel to the raised shoreline, he heard the unmistakable sound of outboard motors roaring to life from the house. Not one, but two. Will remembered seeing a boathouse across the inlet and two boats inside when they had arrived at the marina yesterday.

His right ear clicked, and he heard Danny’s voice: “I must be hearing things. Are those motors?”

“Those are motors,” Will said.

“What do you see?”

“Squat.”

From his angle, Will couldn’t see anything but the water in front of him and the raised shore immediately to his right, the wall of dirt and high, swaying grass less than a meter from the Carver’s starboard.

“Okay, I see them,” Danny said.

“What’s going on?” Josh said, looking back at him again.

Will shook his head. “What do you see?” he said into his throat mic.

“Two boats,” Danny said. “They’re moving down the inlet. Fast. They should be coming into your view…now.”

Two fast-moving boats blasted out of the mouth of the inlet, multiple silhouetted figures in each craft. Just as fast as they appeared, they were gone, shooting up the lake toward Song Island as fast as their powerful outboard motors could carry them. At that rate, it wouldn’t be long before they arrived at the island.

“What do you see?” Will asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Danny said. “They’re still too far away. All I see right now are stick figures on two boats coming toward us at full speed. I don’t think they’re following boating regulations, either. Someone call the Game Wardens.”

Then Danny went quiet.

Will waited, listening to the loud screams of motors racing across the lake.

After a while, Will said, “Danny, what do you see?”

“Four to a boat,” Danny said. “They’re definitely coming full-bore. Looks like you were right to skirt the house on your approach. I told Carly you weren’t nearly as dumb as you look.”

“Good to know. What are you dealing with?”

“Assault rifles. A pair of AK-47s. M4s. The good stuff.”

“Can you take them?”

Will saw Josh looking worriedly back at him again, but the kid somehow managed to restrain himself from blurting something out.

“Do fish shit in the lake?” Danny asked.

“I don’t know,” Will said, playing along. “Do they?”

“Last time I checked. Anyway, you should get to the marina as fast as you can. It should be relatively clear at the moment. Or clear-ish.”

“We’re there now.”

Will aimed the Carver toward shore until the starboard side was pressing up against the dirt and flicking at branches sticking out of the ground. Will let the boat drift for a bit before they finally reached an area where he could drive the boat up onto the muddy beach.

He instantly cut the trolling motor and hopped out of the boat, landing in a hard patch of dirt and mud, with the anchor rope in hand. He saw a tree trunk nearby and wrapped the rope around it, then pulled it tight before dragging the boat farther up until he was satisfied it wouldn’t drift off on its own.

Josh stumbled out after him, cradling the Remington like it was a precious baby. Will resisted the urge to tell the kid to sling the weapon instead. The last thing he needed was for Josh to trip and accidentally blow his own head off. Besides alerting whoever was still at the house, it was going to cost him valuable manpower. Neither one of those things were acceptable losses at the moment.

Will poked his head above the ridgeline and took inventory of their position. The tall, uncut grass was both an ally and a hindrance. On the one hand, it kept him hidden, but it was hard to see through it. Fortunately the sun had baked enough of the grass that it kept the height reasonably in check.

He was surprised to see they weren’t that far from the marina. Will could make out the high-raised roof of the gazebo about 200 meters to his left. And slightly behind that was the back of the garage. He did the math in his head and concluded that carrying the supplies over the distance was going to involve a lot of sweating and grunting, but it was doable.

Will was still gauging the distances when he heard gunfire from Song Island. He knew instantly it was Danny’s M4A1. He waited to hear return fire, but instead he heard the M4A1 fire a second, then a third time.

Josh crouched silently next to Will near the ridge as they heard loud returning fire from multiple weapons. There was a volley, shattering the calm air in a loud, reckless downpour. Then Will heard three more shots. The M4A1 again. Calm and unhurried shots.

Then there was silence.

“What happened?” Josh asked, looking over at Will.

“I don’t know,” Will said.

His right ear clicked and he heard Danny’s voice: “They’re heading back to you now, tails stuck firmly between what are no doubt very wobbly legs. Looked like weekend warriors to me. I might have clipped two. Definitely got one of the motors.”

“Good work.”

“Have Tower, will snipe. Good luck.”

“Roger that.” Will looked over at Josh. “They’re fine. You ready?”

Josh shook his head, but said, “Yeah, okay, sure.”

“You’ll do fine. Let’s go.”

He climbed up first and raced across the flat ground, thankful there were enough tall blades of grass to hide most of him, if not the top of his head. He stopped ten meters from the ridge and looked back and saw Josh following, hunkered down in that same uncomfortable pose he’d had back in the boat. At least he was low to the ground, and anyone looking from the house probably couldn’t see him.

Probably.

Will gave him a nod, hoping to give the kid some confidence. It might have worked, or it might not have. It was hard to read anything beyond Josh’s absolutely terrified expression.

Will looked forward and started moving through the grass again. He could see the garage and gazebo coming up, still a good 280 meters away, give or take.

But then something else caught his eye, and he went into a crouch. Josh, not anticipating the sudden stop, bumped into him from behind. Will grunted a bit as the barrel of the Remington Josh was carrying dug into his back.

“Sorry,” Josh said.

“You’re doing good,” Will lied.

He looked across the field and to his left at a Jeep buried in the ditch along the road. It was parked about forty-five meters from the marina, give or take, and Will could make out three figures crouched next to the vehicle, looking in the direction of the house. Two of them had binoculars.

Will slipped the M4A1 from his shoulder. He lifted the rifle and looked through the sight. He was still too far to make out any details, but there was enough for him to know two of the three were men, the third a woman. The biggest one was up front, and Will set the red dot against the side of the man’s head.


It was a fine target. Big and juicy and oblivious, just the way he liked it.