by Summer Lane
“You know how to use it?”
“Yeah,” she says, smirking. “I think I know how.”
I don’t ask her any more questions as she lays flat on the bed, Bravo jumping onto the foot of the mattress, burrowing next to Elle with his back against the wall. I’m convinced that her dog is merely an extension of Elle’s existence—I don’t think they could live without each other.
I check my watch. It’s only three in the afternoon, but we are three hours behind California. The stress of the nuclear ordeal in San Diego is heavy on my chest, and I lie down, ignoring everyone in the room—including Chris and Uriah—and go to sleep.
Chapter Seven
At 0900 the next morning, we assemble in the chow hall. It looks almost identical to the barracks that we are staying in, only it is filled with plastic tables and chairs, and the aroma of scalded coffee and grilled meat is in the air.
Devin May and Chris sit in the corner, talking in low voices about something that I cannot overhear—but they keep looking at me, so I assume I am the subject of their conversation.
Definitely not a good sign.
“You look zoned out, Hart,” Em remarks. We both stand at the counter while a man wearing a white shirt spoons rice and spam onto thin, white plates. “You okay?”
I grab a mug of hot coffee and sit down at a table in the middle of the room.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m fine.”
I take a long drink of coffee, watching the activity of the chow hall. There are very few people here right now, just a few militiamen and women who are just getting relieved of guard duty. They watch us like a cat watches a mouse—waiting for us to do something or say something.
“You feel like the people here don’t like us very much?” I whisper.
“Yeah. But to be fair, nobody in Yukon City liked you, either,” Em replies.
“That was different. Hanale seems to be very open to us, but his men are treating us like we’re going to bite them for some reason.”
“Hawaiians.” Em shrugs. “I guess they just don’t like outsiders.”
“They will when we help them kick the Ku’s butt.”
“We can only hope.” Em grins. “Speaking of the Ku … you think Hanale is exaggerating at all? A tribal, volcano-worshipping clan of islanders? That’s a little far-fetched.”
I look at Em.
“In this world,” I reply, “nothing is too far-fetched. The Ku isn’t really that different than Father Kareem and the Mad Monks.”
“Yeah, but Father Kareem and his people aren’t really mad. They’ve just got a rep.”
“Maybe the Ku is the same way.”
“I’m worried about them. Hanale said they’re on the Hilo side. That’s where we need to go to find Randall.”
I answer, “Yeah. Look, Em. Don’t worry about it. We can do it—we always pull it off.”
She doesn’t reply, and I remind myself that Em has not been with us for very long. She does not know the history of my friends like I do—she does not know what we are all willing to do to ensure victory and safety.
Manny plops down at our table, staring at the rice and spam on his plate.
“What is this?” he asks, looking at me with a stricken expression. “Rice and spam? You call this an all-American breakfast?”
“It’s a Hawaiian thing,” I reply.
“Rice? For breakfast?”
“Open your mind, Manny. Try something new.”
Manny slips a flask out of his pocket and takes a swig.
“God help me,” he mutters. “I could cook a better breakfast than this with my eyes closed.”
I roll my eyes, tempted to grab Manny’s food and scarf it down myself—I am incredibly hungry this morning. The time change has kicked my stomach backward and increased my appetite.
“Good morning,” General Hanale says, entering the chow hall. I look up sharply, setting my fork down. “Please, continue eating. I know you are very hungry.”
Behind him, a beautiful Hawaiian woman with a thick braid of black hair enters the building. She is wearing a short sleeve green uniform with a bulletproof vest, boots cuffing her ankles, tattoos on her arms.
“This is my lieutenant colonel,” Hanale says, gesturing to the woman. “Lieutenant Lani.”
Lani nods, surveying us with a hardened expression.
Chris and I stand to greet the lieutenant. She offers a sharp salute.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Commander Hart,” she says flatly. “You’re not what I expected.”
Ouch.
“Well, I like to break stereotypes,” I quip.
Chris’s lips twitch ever so slightly, and I know he is fighting a smile.
“Come, sit over here,” Hanale says, pointing to a door in the back of the building. “I will brief you on everything you need to know about the Ku.”
Clearly, he does not want to discuss anything in front of the militiamen and women in this chow hall, so we leave our plates and coffee behind, trailing Hanale through the back door into a small room with a plastic table. Uriah looks at me as he brushes past, then sits down on one of the seats, looking squarely at the wall.
“Have a seat,” Hanale tells us.
He throws a pile of maps on the table. Lieutenant Lani remains standing, her arms folded across her chest. If there ever was a poster child for sourpuss badass, she’d be it. We all take a seat around the table, Devin hanging close to Chris again. I am slightly annoyed at his clinginess to my fiancé, but I decide to let it go. Good friends are hard to find these days—I shouldn’t deny Chris that.
“I understand that you cannot reveal the true nature of your mission to us,” General Hanale begins. “But we are here to help you with whatever you may need. Many of my men do not like outsiders here on the island, but I know better. I realize that you are here to help end this war, and I am in support of anything that might be able to destroy the Akua and end the Ku Tribe and give my people and I either aid from the military, or evacuation from Hawaii, if it can be afforded.
“These are the best maps of the island,” he continues, pointing to the maps on the table. “Take them, study them. They will be very helpful to you.”
“Where exactly is the Ku Tribe based?” Devin asks.
“Downtown Hilo,” Hanale answers. “They have taken over the city.”
“What are the roads like?” I press.
“The roads are clear all the way until you reach the city,” Lieutenant Lani interjects. “If you are planning on going into Hilo, you must go in on foot. The Ku will hear the vehicles coming a mile away—and they’ll see you.”
“She is right,” Hanale agrees. “Hilo is the most dangerous place on this island.”
“Well, we have business there,” I reply. “But not necessarily downtown. We’ll need a convoy and weapons. Radios. Can you get us that?”
“Of course.”
“The Ku have scouts, too,” Lani goes on. “They circle the outside of the city constantly. If you find a scout, kill him. He will have no mercy on you, and you should have none on him.”
Elle nods, obviously pleased with Lani’s idea of warfare.
“What are you retrieving in Hilo?” Lani asks point-blank.
“I’m afraid that’s classified information, Lieutenant,” Chris answers.
Lani’s jaw tightens.
Hanale casts a warning glance at Lani, then sits down, as well.
“I must warn you,” he tells us. “The Ku merely uses the excuse of ancient traditions to inflict terror and fear on anyone who dares to stand up to them. They have killed many innocent people. They sacrifice them to their so-called gods, but the reality is that they are killing the populace so that they will submit to their authority.
“What I am saying,” he sighs, “is that if you are captured by the Ku, we can do nothing to help you. They are too powerful, too savage. I cannot risk the safety and survival of my people on a rescue mission into enemy territory. I’m sorry.”
“So, d
on’t get captured,” Uriah deadpans. “I’ll make a note of it.”
“Me too,” I agree.
“There’s something else you should know,” Hanale says, lowering his voice. “There is talk that the Ku are Omega sympathizers. If given the chance, I am sure they would provide Omega with any and all information regarding our militia, and your presence here, if it is discovered.”
“Do they have communication with Omega?” Chris asks.
“I have no idea. I’m assuming that they do not, but I cannot be sure.”
“Great,” Manny comments. “What could possibly go wrong?”
“Do you have any further questions?” Hanale asks. “If you need a guide, Lieutenant Lani can take you where you need to go—but only as far as the outskirts of Hilo. From there, you must continue on your own.”
“We understand,” I say. “We’ve been through many missions, General.”
That is my subtle way of saying, We’re experienced. You don’t have to tell us how to operate.
It’s probably better that I say it, anyway, before Uriah or Manny burst out with an offensive comment. There’s no reason to insult our host militia here on the island.
“We’ll take vehicles and weapons as soon as possible,” Chris announces. “We’d like to be able to execute our assignment tomorrow, and—”
A loud, raucous clanging sound rattles the inside of the building. My ears ring and I automatically rise to my feet, as do all my friends. Manny exclaims, “What in the blazes is that noise?”
Hanale straightens up, his face growing grave.
“The Ku,” he says. “They’re here.”
Chapter Eight
We follow General Hanale and Lieutenant Lani outside. The camp is shrouded on all sides by misty, black and white clouds. Militiamen and women are running from their barracks, tense expressions on their faces. The siren continues to screech. It is a miserable sound, akin to someone smashing a hammer against a sheet of metal over and over again.
A man with short black hair runs to General Hanale. He is missing one eye. A deep, garish scar slices across his cheek, all the way to his neck.
“They’re on Mauna Kea,” the man says. “Again.”
“How many?” Hanale asks.
“Twenty. Maybe more.”
“We can handle twenty,” Lani states, glaring. “Let’s go.”
My heart is pounding against my chest, expecting the rush of combat to hit us at any moment like it always does. “Wait,” I say. “They’re not here?”
“They’re at the volcano,” Lani replies. “Weren’t you listening?”
“The volcano is a good distance away,” Chris replies.
“They’re executing prisoners,” Lani growls. “They only go to the volcano to make sacrifices. We have to stop them. Some of those prisoners are our men. And if there’s only twenty of them, we can take them out.”
“We may not reach them in time,” the man with the scar says. He looks at Chris and me. “I’m Lieutenant Haku, by the way.” He salutes us.
“Commander Chris Young,” Chris replies, “and Commander Cassidy Hart.”
The siren continues to wail. The good-natured lieutenant shrugs and looks to the general.
“We’ll try,” Hanale says. “For the sake of our people, we’ll try.”
“We’re coming with you,” Uriah states firmly. “And don’t tell us no.”
Chris looks to Uriah, but I can see by the spark in his eyes that he doesn’t disagree—frankly, neither do I. This is a chance for us to see the Ku up close, to familiarize ourselves with this new, local enemy before we have to plunge into the Hilo side of the island to carry out our mission.
Hanale nods.
“Very well,” he replies. “We can use all the fighting men we can get.”
He turns and gives several commands to the rest of the lieutenants on base—most of the men will be left behind to defend the camp, in the case that this is merely a diversion, an attempt for the Ku to draw us out and attack us while we’re down.
If that is the case, we will be ready for it.
The next several moments are a blur of noise and rumbling engines. I grab my rifle and I strap extra magazines onto my belt. I jump into a pickup with Chris, Devin, and Elle. Em, Uriah, Vera and Manny are in the vehicle behind us. There are about thirty Hawaiian militiamen on this convoy as we scream out of the camp, rolling onto the highway, headed toward Hilo.
The air is cold now, and the sun is nowhere in sight. The circular hills whisk by through the clouds, brilliantly green even in this gloomy lighting.
“Where are we going?” Devin yells against the roar of the wind and engines.
“We’ll drive most of the way up the volcano!” Lieutenant Haku replies, a jolly grin on his face. For a man with such a ravaged face, he has a great smile. “Then we’ll go in on foot. We don’t want the dirty killers to see us coming, right?” He laughs. “The Ku are crazy—there’s nothing they won’t do to maintain control.”
“It does sound like Omega,” I mutter.
“Perhaps,” Haku replies. “But I have no personal experience fighting Omega, so I couldn’t say. All I know is that the end of the world has brought out the savagery in all men.”
“It’s not all bad!” Chris answers, offering a half-hearted smile. “Think of the good people who have stepped up and fought back—everyday people, average Joes. Everyone. Humanity has really pulled strength out of itself that I’d thought we’d lost.”
“Trial by fire,” Haku agrees. “That’s very true, Commander.”
I can tell by the way that Haku talks and carries himself that we are going to be friends, and that cheers me up a little. We finally slow down and reach a turn-off point blocked with a flimsy chain. The convoy rolls right through it, snapping the chain and barreling up the road as fast as we can. I keep a firm grip on Chris’s strong arm and the side of the pickup bed to keep from flying out.
We wind higher up the mountain. Unlike California, this mountain is not thick with forested areas of pine trees and ferns. It begins with a rise and fall of grass and bushes, slowly becoming greener as we get higher. Amazingly, the clouds are both above us and below us, creating the illusion of being suspended in the air.
And then there is suddenly no growth at all—nothing but miles of cold, hard lava rock and dirt on all sides of the road. I shiver, zipping my jacket up to my throat. It’s getting freezing up here—something I didn’t think was possible in Hawaii.
Chris pulls me close to him, and I lean against him for warmth. In that moment, we break through the clouds and I can see the island of Hawaii laid at our feet. I can see the coastline etched against the blue water and the highway that winds around the base of Mauna Kea toward Pohokuloa Training Area on Saddle Road. I can see the Hualalai Volcanic Mountains and the outline of the sister island of Maui across the small span of Pacific between us.
The convoy comes to a halt.
I stand and jump onto the ground, Chris on my left, Devin on my right. He has been uncharacteristically quiet for the entire mission, and I can’t help but wonder why.
Unfortunately, now is not the time to ask questions like that.
General Hanale and Lieutenant Lani gather us into a group at the head of the convoy where we are parked. Just ahead, on the road, I see the outline of something bright and white.
Snow?
I blink. Yes! It is snow! We must be at the summit already.
“We will separate into three teams,” Hanale says. “Mine, Lani’s, and Haku’s. Commander Hart, Commander Young, stay with Haku’s team. The rest of you disperse how you wish.”
He means that statement to apply to the California militiamen here—just the eight of us. We stay together in Haku’s group, accepting the plan that Hanale has in place, trusting that he knows the lay of the land here.
“The observatory is not far away,” Hanale continues. “I will come from the east, Lani from the west, and Haku’s unit from the north. Wait for my signal. We
will diminish their numbers with sniper fire.” He looks at me, then Uriah. “You have a reputation as being the best snipers in the militias.”
“We will see,” Lani says, leveling her gaze at me.
“You will,” I reply coolly.
What is it with these prima donna alpha female military types?
Ever since I met Vera Wright, I seem to constantly run into women in positions of military authority who don’t like the fact that I’m somewhat good at what I do.
Aren’t we all in this together? It’s not a competition. It’s a fight to survive. Period.
I shake myself. It’s irrelevant.
So, we follow Haku across the road, trotting over the hill, heading toward the summit of the volcano. Elle runs up front with Haku, Bravo silent and pensive, testing the air with his nose.
“I thought this volcano would be active,” Manny says, sidling up beside me. “Where’s the lava? Where’s the hellish red glow? Where’s the glorious smell of burning sulfur?”
“It’s dormant,” I hiss. “See the snow on the ground?”
We have suddenly stumbled right into the snow, a fine sheet of clean white ice painted over the summit. It seems oddly out of place on a tropical island, but whatever. I’m not in charge of deciding the weather.
We move uphill, staying in team formation, Chris and me at the back end of the unit behind the rest of the Hawaiian militiamen. Other than Elle, Vera and myself, there are no women on Haku’s team. The men carry themselves with steely efficiency, no flicker of emotion on their faces. Haku is the only one here who has a personality, other than General Hanale and the general catty behavior that I’ve seen displayed in Lieutenant Lani so far.
Haku holds up a fist and we stop, sinking to the ground. Just beyond the hill here, I see the round, glimmering edge of an observation dome. I smell smoke, and I know immediately that the Ku are close.
Haku makes a motion to us and we slide into position. The snipers take the primary position at the tip of the ridge. I crawl on my hands and knees, lying prone, barely peeking over the hill.
I see them. My gut clenches and I swallow, licking dry, chapped lips.