by JA Huss
And then the call drops.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - MEGAN
I lie down on the sun lounger and look up at the sky. But just as I do that I hear a hum in the air. Whales? Maybe? The underwater speaker is still turned on so there’s muted ocean sounds still being piped through the sound system out here.
But it’s not whales. Not dolphins, either. Not the sea at all.
And that’s when I notice the hum is getting louder. Like something approaching very quickly.
And I see it.
A drone. A black, fixed-wing drone. The kind the military uses to spy on other countries and take out terrorists.
For a moment I’m sure that drone will be dropping a bomb. That in just a few seconds my flesh will be burned off my body. And then this yacht will blow up and sink, and people will find it just like they found the wreckage of Charlotte Kane’s boat last year, and that’s it.
Game over. We lost.
And I know I should yell for Johnny. Warn him at least. But I’m frozen in place, my eyes fixed on the black outline of what could be a large bird.
An albatross, or a magnificent frigatebird.
But isn’t.
It’s a drone.
And then the payload comes into view. A small black package hanging from the underbelly.
They know where we are.
They always know where we are.
There is no way to hide from the Way.
The payload drops and I’m on my feet. Ready to jump overboard, I run to the edge of the yacht.
But I stop.
There is no point in living if Johnny dies. No point at all. He’s my only hope. I need him. I have to see this through.
So I turn and look up just as a small parachute opens and the package bobs and floats in the air until it’s right over top of me and falls almost lazily into my waiting hands.
“What the fuck is that?”
I turn, still holding the package, and watch as Johnny looks up at the sky to watch the drone disappear off in the distance. Still on its same trajectory. No sign that it just dropped a package into my hands.
“It left this,” I say, holding up the flat, hard case.
Johnny squints his eyes, stuffs the satellite phone into his pocket, then jumps onto the sun deck, crosses it in two paces, and jumps down to the starboard side deck where I’m standing. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. It literally just fell into my hands.”
He reaches for it and I hand it over.
“A tablet,” he says. “This is a field case for a tablet.” He works the hard plastic latches on the edge and then flips it open to reveal a screen. He taps it and it comes to life.
A video starts to play.
One of those email invitations. An animation of an envelope opening. A beautiful and intricate envelope. Like Johnny and I are getting invited to a wedding.
A card slips up and out of the envelope and the message begins as pretty, animated calligraphy.
Megan Machette and Johnny Boston. You are cordially invited.
A picture flashes.
The island where Johnny found me. The long stretch of white beach.
Nine o’clock am.
Then another flash. This time video.
A man sitting in a chair. Hands bound to the arms and hood over his head. An anonymous, gloved hand reaches into the frame, plucks the hood off, and there… there is… “My father,” I whisper.
His face is bloody and bruised. His eyes almost completely swollen shut.
Flash back to the invitation.
Come together.
Then another flash. This time it’s not an actual photograph or video, but a very realistic CGI animation of people sitting down at a large dinner table. Lots of people.
“Shit,” Johnny says.
“Who are they?” I ask.
“Jesse, Joey, Zach. Emma’s brothers. Her parents. Her co-workers and their families. Shit.”
Another flash. But not back to the invitation.
This flash is an explosion and the whole dinner scene goes up in flames. People are screaming and running, and—
Johnny throws the tablet into the water and everything goes quiet.
And then there’s the sound of numbers being dialed on a phone and Johnny is saying, “Jesse! Jesse, are you OK?”
My legs are suddenly weak and shaky and I know if I don’t find a place to sit right now, I will pass out. So I ease my way over to the edge of the sun deck and collapse, gripping the edge hard to keep myself upright.
They got to all of us.
There is no way out.
Or… there is. There always has been. That’s the whole reason my father and I were working on our secret project.
But… I look over at Johnny. That means I have to make a choice. And it’s not fair. I just got to know him. I just got to like him. I just, maybe even, started to love him.
“No, everything’s fine,” Johnny says to the phone.
Fine? I scoff. Everything is decidedly not fine.
“I think I’ll be back in Key West tomorrow. Yeah. No,” he says. Roughly this time. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get there. Cool. Bye.”
He ends the call and sighs. “They’re OK.”
“They’re not OK!” I say. “We’re all fucked! They’re going to kill my dad, and kill your brothers, and all those other people!” I’m suddenly weary with despair. I know how Gilgamesh felt when he got back from his journey of secrets.
Everything sucks. Everything is messed up.
There is no future past tomorrow at nine AM. No future at all.
Johnny lets out a long breath of air and then shoves the phone back into his pocket. “It was Logan,” he says. “On that first call. It was Logan telling me that someone blew up the helicopter people. That wasn’t his helicopter we used today. He rented it from a friend and now that friend and all his people are dead. They blew the whole place up. It was a warning. They killed them because they’re not Way. But it was just a warning for me. Either I show up tomorrow or that same scenario will play out down in Key West where…” He laughs. But it’s one of those ironic laughs. Me and irony? We’re so well acquainted I’d recognize it anywhere. “Where I told them to all stay put. Where I gathered them all up in one convenient location so the Way could take them out with one blast.”
But then he looks me in the eyes and goes hard. Hard like the stone tattooed on his arm.
“What are we gonna do?” I ask.
“We’re gonna show up on that island at nine AM tomorrow morning.”
“And they’re going to kill us,” I squeak.
“No,” Johnny says. “No, they’re not going to kill us. If they wanted us dead, Megan. We’d be dead. They know where we’re at. That drone didn’t have to drop a package. We both know that.”
“Then why do they want us?”
But it’s a stupid, stupid question. I know why they want us. At least… I know why they want me.
But what do they want with Johnny Boston?
I hold my hand over my mouth and shake my head. And then the tears are there. Because I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live like this.
“Hey,” Johnny says, bending down so he can look me in the eyes. “Look at me.” He places both his hands on the side of my knees and grips them tight.
“What?” I ask weakly. Rubbing the tears from my cheeks.
“We’re not fucked yet.”
“How do you figure?” I huff. “They killed Logan’s people! They’re probably torturing my father right now. They’ll probably kill your family tomorrow even if we do show up and then it’s all over.”
“It’s not over. We still have one night.”
“What good is one night?” I laugh. “We can’t fight them. We can’t win.”
“There’s always a way, Megan.” He looks at me. He looks at me like he knows my secret. Like I have all the answers.
And the really fucked-up thing is? I do. I have all the answers he’s l
ooking for.
It’s just…
“Come on,” he says, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. “I told you I wasn’t done yet tonight. I have one more thing to show you.”
“I’m not in the mood, OK? I can’t do any more glowing dolphins. We’re done! We’re as good as dead! This whole night is pointless!”
“Just come up here and lie down with me.”
He jumps up onto the sun deck, still holding my hand. Urging me to follow him.
“Megan,” he says, looking me in the eyes. “Trust me, OK? We’re not done. We didn’t fight this hard and come this far to be done.”
I feel defeated. I finally feel defeat. So I give in. Because there’s no more fight left inside me. They’re going to torture my father and me too, no matter what happens. That will be my future. And they’re going to kill Johnny, and his brothers, and everyone else we ever knew.
“Come on,” Johnny whispers. “We’re gonna lie down right here for a little while.” He kneels down and adjusts the sun loungers so they lie flat, then pats the one next to him.
I get down next to him for the simple reason that I don’t know what else to do. I’m just on autopilot as I play scenarios of tomorrow in my head.
Torture. That’s my future.
And death.
But not my death.
That’s the most ironic thing about this whole fucked-up situation. I will not die tomorrow. They cannot kill me.
But they can, and will, kill everyone I care about.
“You know what tonight is?” Johnny says softly.
“I’m not even sure I know what month it is anymore.”
“It’s August twelfth. And every year on this date there’s a meteor shower.”
“I knew that,” I whisper. Still replaying that explosion over, and over again in my head.
His whole family. All his friends.
And him.
Dead. They will all die tomorrow if I don’t give them what they must surely know I have by now. My father must’ve said something. They tortured those answers out of him, and he told them everything, and now… now… now I’m in love with the man they sent me to trap and—
“Hundreds of shooting stars every hour,” Johnny says. Still talking about the sky. “And you know what that means?”
I turn my head to look at him, wondering how he can be so calm when we were just notified that our lives are over and we’re gonna take everyone we ever cared about down with us.
But I don’t even have the energy to ask him. So I just whisper, “What does it mean?”
“It means tonight we get to wish. All the wishes we want. Every shooting star up there is another gift to us if we make a wish.”
I look up at the vast, dark sky and picture Wendy in that Peter Pan story. I imagine I’m her. I’m looking out her bedroom window ready for a bedtime story. “Is this how it works in Neverland?”
“It is.” Johnny sighs. “And I’d like to take you there, if that’s OK.”
I could use a trip to Neverland right now. But it won’t change anything, will it?
My body is shaking. It’s not even cold out, I’m just shaking with fear. Johnny slips his arm underneath me, pulling me in close. And his heat and embrace comfort me a little. “What happens when we have to leave?” I whisper. “What then?”
“We bring this night with us, Megan. It’s ours now and no one can ever take it away.” Then he points to the sky. “There. My first wish.”
I follow his finger and see just a bit of a flash before it disappears. “Do we have to keep our wishes secret?”
“Fuck that. We’re done with secrets. We’re gonna shout them out loud to the entire fucking world.”
It’s a nice thought.
A dream, actually. To be done with secrets.
But are we done with secrets?
Maybe he is, but I’m certainly not.
Because my secret is… there are nothing but dead bodies in my future.
Lots of them.
And there’s no way to change that now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - JOHNNY
“Come on,” I say. “Make a wish with me.” I’m trying to pull her out of this… depression that’s starting in. I’m worried too. Hell, worried isn’t even the right word for how sick I felt when I was watching that video. But it was CGI. Just a threat. And that means they still want something from us. They need us.
But why?
I just don’t understand that part. What do Megan and I have that they need us on that island tomorrow?
She’s unresponsive and when I turn my head to look at her, I recognize something there.
Hopelessness.
I’ve been where she is so many times. And I understand the reality of our situation. I know what it means. I know we’re probably not going to make it.
And by make it, I’m not talking about living or dying. I’m talking about getting out.
We’re never getting out. That’s true. We’re stuck. They are holding our loved ones captive. Both literally and potentially.
I should be shaking like she is. But something about Megan calms me. I feel stronger with her by my side tonight.
“I don’t know what to wish for,” Megan says.
“Anything. Everything.”
“What did you wish for? To keep your family safe? Because I feel like I should wish for my father. I feel like I should wish him to escape. But then I’d just need ten more wishes after that to keep him safe. And… and…” She sighs. “You know. I think you were right yesterday. It’s all kind of pointless.”
“My wish is kind of vague,” I say, deciding to ignore her hopelessness and bet on my own misplaced optimism to keep her going tonight. Because I need her focused. She can’t fall apart now. Not now.
“More of a lifestyle kind of wish,” I continue. “Things are calm and life is easy. No more thoughts about the Way or the money. You and me and a little house, maybe?”
“God, do you think I’m stupid?”
“What?”
“Just stop, OK? It was a nice night. Pretty fucking romantic, actually. But I get it. You need me and I need you, and we’re going to show up on that island tomorrow together and hand each other over. And then? Then it’s just done. OK? They get everything they want and we get nothing but this weird, opposite-day wish fulfillment that we somehow saved each other and… There’s no wish in the world that could help us now.”
She’s right, of course. But this doesn’t move us forward and I need us moving forward. So I push on without her. “A house with a yard. And windows that open. And a dog. Maybe two dogs. Maybe, one day, a kid.”
“It’s a nice wish,” she says in a low voice. “But it’s stupid to want things you’ll never get.”
“There,” I say, ignoring her as I point up at the sky. “There’s another one. That one’s yours.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” she huffs. “Doesn’t count if I didn’t see it myself.” She’s not even looking up at the sky. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is frowning.
“It does,” I assure her. “It works any way we want. So I’m giving that wish to you. Take it with grace, Megan.”
She opens her eyes and stares up at the sky. Says nothing.
“Come on. Just… if we’re gonna lose tomorrow the least we can do is win tonight. Just… play along with me. Please.”
She frowns, but doesn’t turn her head to look at me. Doesn’t even slide her eyes to the side to catch me in her peripheral vision. Just says, “I can find my own shooting stars.”
I watch her for a few moments. Just watch her watching the sky. Then look back up and try to keep the fear inside me at bay. Try to organize all the folders that just came unfiled inside my brain cabinets. I just need to hold it all together for one more day. Just one more day and then I can do whatever the fuck I want with that filing system. Burn the whole thing down, maybe?
That would be a good wish.
Burn the whole thing down.
; “There,” Megan says. “I wish for…”
I wait, but that wish doesn’t come. “For?”
“This is a bad idea.”
“Goddammit,” I say, starting to get angry. “Are you gonna play along with my third and final romantic gesture or not? Because I feel like I’m trying to save the fucking world and you’re just lying here telling me I’m a dumbass. And you know what? I might not be smart like you, but I’m not ready to give up yet. I have a plan, OK? And it could work.”
“What plan?”
“Buy our way out.”
“What?”
“Buy our way out of the Way. Like how Logan bought his way out of the mob. My other not-sister-in-law—” This actually elicits a chuckle from Megan and I feel a little bit of hope that I’m getting through to her. “—she thinks we can use the Way money I collect every month to buy our way out. And it makes sense because Logan did this. He bought his way out. Not with money, but a favor. And a betrayal. And… well, my point is, we’re just basing it off that. OK? Not copying it. She thinks we can gather up enough allies with the promise of returning their money and—”
“That’s the dumbest plan ever.”
“Well, I was counting on Charlotte to provide me with some kind of new information I could use to sweeten the deal, so to speak. I really thought she got out. I thought she got away. I thought she had something on them and she bought her way out just like we were gonna do, but now it turns out she was taken and used. And killed. For whatever it was they were doing in that lab. But we still have the data, Megan. We can expose them.”
She looks over at me, shaking her head. “It won’t work.”
“How do you know? People will be pissed when they figure out that almost all of the shit that’s wrong with humanity has been manufactured by the über-rich. There will be global unsettlement. People will rise up and—”
“People will not rise up. They won’t even believe us. Remember that guy who owned that crazy island down here? And it came out that that place was some sick sex club where the most atrocious things happened? They had footage, Johnny. Four different government agencies raided the whole place. They had paperwork, and photos, and airplane manifests proving that senators, and movie stars, and hell, even some past presidents all went down to partake in the things that creep was selling on that island. And what happened? They just killed that guy in his cell and called it suicide and everyone just went along with it. People don’t want to know what’s really happening. They want a good job that pays well. They want those checks to appear in their bank accounts every two weeks. They want to take vacations, and buy cars, and new homes. They want a dog or two. And maybe, one day, a kid. That’s all they want. They want the same thing as you. Don’t you get it? As long as the Way provides that for a certain segment of the population, the status quo is just fine.”