by Summer Lane
I pause and turn to Elle.
“Bravo,” I whisper.
She nods and snaps his leash off. She commands him to search, and he’s off like a shot, completely confident. I follow Bravo as he clears the hallway for me, bursting into a room at the end of the hall. This room is halfway illuminated—one of the windows is open, a warm breeze ruffling sheets of papers scattered across the floor. There are piles of books, and the walls are covered in dozens—if not hundreds—of different maps of the island and the world.
“Mike Randall!” I breathe.
He’s sitting, still as a statue, in a wooden chair. Bravo has stopped at his feet, whining deep in his throat. I lower my rifle and step closer. The man’s face is still, and his eyes are wide open.
Dead.
***
Our. Luck. Sucks.
I sit on the edge of the threadbare cot in Randall’s room staring at his dead body. Chris and Manny look him over and find no signs of booby-trapping or trickery.
The man is simply dead—dead of several gunshot wounds to the abdomen, from the looks of it. Blood has long since crusted over on his shirt. It looks as if he died suddenly, collapsing one final time in his chair, never to rise again …
“You think the Ku did this to him?” Elle asks.
“It’s the best explanation,” Chris replies. “He’s been dead for a couple of weeks, at least.”
Randall’s face is dark and middle-aged. His body is in the process of decomposing, swarmed with flies and insects. I look away, and Chris respectfully closes the dead man’s eyes and takes a step back.
“Great,” I say. “He was our best chance of finding everything.”
The hope of finding the nuclear weapons—the motivation that made the mission here a little easier to bear—is now gone. In a single blink, completely eliminated.
“We still have what we need,” Uriah says quietly. “Step back.”
He makes a motion, and everyone in the room takes a step backward.
The papers in the room are spread everywhere, but from his angle, Uriah kneels down and looks at the wall.
“He was looking for the base,” Uriah says. “Look at the wall.”
I get down on one knee and look toward the far wall—the maps are plastered everywhere, all covered with notes and pins. We rifle through everything, tearing them from the wall. Nothing.
“Hey,” Elle says. “Check it out.”
She slowly peels Randall’s stiff fingers away from a small object in his grasp. It is a square of paper. She unfolds it on the table—it’s a thin map of the island.
“Oh, my God!” Em exclaims.
I read the text aloud, a desperate, barely legible text—the writing of a man about to die, a man in a hurry to pass along a message to the people he hoped would find him before it was too late:
Kaumana Caves. Ohana.
That’s it.
“Kaumana Caves?” Em repeats.
“Ohana,” Uriah mutters. “Doesn’t that mean family in Hawaiian?”
“Something like that,” Chris answers.
“What weapons are you trying to find?” Lani breathes, fear in her expression.
I ignore her.
“That’s not much to go on,” I say. “But it’s something. And at least we know why he went MIA.”
“Yeah, he’s been dead,” Manny says.
“How many days have we been here?” Elle asks. “How much time until the RV with Boyd?”
“Um …” I do a mental count. “I think this is our fourth day.”
“Is that all?” Elle rolls her eyes. “It feels like a year.”
“Might as well be,” Manny mumbles, rummaging around the room. “I’m going to search the rest of this place for a radio. Who wants to come with me?”
“I will,” Elle offers, bringing Bravo.
Haku and Vera join him, leaving the rest of us to study the maps on the walls.
“Kaumana Caves,” I repeat. “It’s not far, look.” I press my finger against a map of Hawaii. “It’s in Hilo. We’re already there.”
Chris nods in agreement.
“I say we go right away,” he says.
“With all due respect, Commander Young,” Lani replies, “it’s not safe to travel once the sun sets. The Ku are dangerous.”
“We’re dangerous, too,” I snap.
“They’re insane,” Lani argues, narrowing her dark eyes. “They load up on drugs and hunt for survivors. When they’re high, they don’t feel pain. The only thing that will kill a Ku fighter when they’re in that state is a shot to the head or the heart.”
“The more I hear about the Ku,” Uriah says, “the more I think their gene pool needs to be eradicated.”
“So, we’ll stay here for the night,” I agree, “and tomorrow we’ll hit the caves, find the weapons, and hook up with Boyd. Easy.”
I say the word easy, but I don’t believe it. Nothing is easy.
“I found a radio!” Manny hollers from the other end of the building.
We follow the sound of his voice and find a small door behind the cash register. Inside, there’s a tiny office and Randall’s radio room.
“Everything is in working condition,” Manny exclaims, impressed. “The poor sap must have been too sick to even hobble over here and ask for help.”
“Or too stubborn to ask for help,” I remark.
“There’s always that.” Manny picks up the receiver and checks into the radio waves. “Roberta, this is Sundogwith Operation Pele. Do you read? Over.”
Nothing.
I lean against the wall, disappointed. Chances are the transmission didn’t even go through. It would be helpful to get some sort of message out to Admiral Boyd, to inform him that our contact here is dead, just like every other team he sent to the island.
We check out the rest of the property. There are abandoned restrooms and a vending machine that has long since been emptied out. I rifle through the guidebooks in the gift shop, reading through lists of Hawaiian flowers and trees. Elle finds a massive stash of mosquito repellent wipes behind the counter, and we wipe ourselves down to avoid any more discomfort.
When the sun sets, we retreat inside and light candles that Randall had been using. Chris, Uriah, and Devin move his body outside. We’ll deal with burying him tomorrow. I make sure the windows are sealed. I don’t want any light to escape.
Lani’s warning about the drugged up, psycho Ku fighters has me slightly spooked.
Just when I think I’ve seen it all …
I settle down in the corner of the gift shop, Hawaiian tourist maps laid at my feet. I easily locate the Kaumana Caves. They’re roughly ten miles south of us—not far away from Rainbow Falls, where we started.
I sigh.
We’ll have to walk all the way back.
On the other side of the shop, Elle, Vera, Manny, and Haku engage in a game of cards, betting with piles of bubble gum they found in the store.
I smile a little, glad to see them somewhat relaxed.
Devin, Uriah, and Chris are gathered in Randall’s old room, discussing their strategy for tomorrow. I am exhausted, and I know they will give me the rundown when they’re done. Lani sits across from me, alone and silent.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
“Of course.” She flicks her long black hair over her shoulder. Then, “I feel bad for going behind Hanale’s back to do this. But it was necessary. He’s too soft—too lenient. The Ku cannot be shown mercy. You understand that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I reply. “I understand.”
She looks at the map, then back at me.
“So, you’re going to marry the Commander?” she asks.
“Yeah. I guess so.”
I twist the ring on my finger. I keep forgetting about that word: engaged.
“You’re a strong woman,” Lani observes, matter-of-fact. “You don’t need a man.”
“No,” I agree. “I don’t need one. But I love him. There’s a difference between wanting a
nd needing.”
Lani slowly braids her hair.
“The other one—the lieutenant who follows you everywhere like a dog,” she goes on, lowering her voice. “What about him?”
I exhale, irritated.
“You know, I don’t make a habit of discussing my love life with people whom I hardly know,” I say. “What’s it to you, anyway?”
“I’m just making a comment.” Lani shrugs. “Look, Commander. I married the wrong person, and I’m sorry I did. I love Hanale—but as a friend, not as a husband. I should never have married him. I was selfish and hotheaded. I’m just saying … make sure you marry the right guy. It’s important.”
Her tone is sincere. She finishes her braid and swings it back.
“Chris is the right guy,” I mutter.
“Yes,” Lani says. “I’m sure a lot of women would say that.”
“Seriously? You too?”
“The thing about love,” Lani says, “is that it’s deceiving. And during war, it’s put to the ultimate test. The worst parts of your humanity come to light when you’re fighting for your life. Hanale always told me, ‘Don’t fight too hard, Lani. You’ll lose yourself.’ He’s a wise man, sometimes. But not always. Too eager for peace—too unwilling to face grim realities.”
“Chris and I have been through a lot together,” I assure Lani. “We’re sure about each other.”
She says nothing, which I find totally annoying.
“What will you do, when you go back to Hanale?” I ask. “He’ll be angry with you.”
“I’m not going back to Hanale,” Lani retorts. “He doesn’t own me. Like I said, I want you to take me off this island. That’s our deal.”
“Bring him with you.”
“I don’t want him to come with me! I want to get away!”
Her words echo in the small gift shop, and Manny briefly looks up. He gauges the expression on Lani’s face, then quickly goes back to making a wisecrack comment about the hand he’s currently playing in poker.
“Has it really been that bad?” I whisper.
“You have no idea,” Lani whispers.
I take her at her word.
“Okay,” I say. “If that’s the way you want it. It’s not my job to play marriage counselor.”
Lani scoffs, then sits back, staring at the ceiling.
“I hope to God that you can find a way to end this war,” she says.
“Me too,” I agree.
This is our last-ditch effort. One final attempt at survival.
***
In the middle of the night, we receive a radio transmission. I hear a voice crackling over the static, and I rise to my feet, darting into the room.
“Roberta,this is Yankee Leader,” I say, speaking into the receiver, thick with sleep. “We read you. Go ahead.”
I am surprised Boyd is attempting to contact us. He must have news of some sort.
It takes only a few seconds for the rest of the team to hurry into the radio room, awakened by the call—and my voice.
“Yankee Leader, we read you loud and clear,” comes the reply. It is Admiral Boyd’s voice. “Report.”
“En route to secure package,” I reply. “Randall is KIA.”
“Copy that, Yankee Leader. Backup plan still stands—RV at Honokaa, 0800, seventh day.”
“Roger that,” I say. “We’ve got hostiles on the island. Roughly two thousand strong—call themselves the Ku, they worship Omega, and they’ve got a leader who calls himself the Prophet. Dangerous but primitive. Your fleet could do some serious damage, no problem.”
“Got it,” Boyd replies. “And the militia?”
“Strong, but not strong enough. They’ll need backup. A lot of it.”
There is a long pause, and then, “Good to know. Over and out.”
I look at Chris, who is standing at the threshold.
“We’re on schedule, still,” he says.
“Let’s hope it stays that way,” I reply.
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, I am tired and hot. The humidity is leaving its mark. I walk outside into the fresh morning air. It’s only slightly more refreshing than the inside of the building. Elle is tossing a toy across the empty parking lot. Bravo retrieves it, returns it, and they repeat the exercise over and over again. Just beyond them, Manny sits still on the hood of an abandoned vehicle eating his breakfast.
“He’s worried about Arlene,” Vera whispers.
“He handles it well,” I say.
“So does Elle.”
“They’re both tough.”
I gather my gear. We take what we need from the building, and then we leave.
“You okay?” I ask quietly.
She nods.
I adjust my pack and cross the parking lot. Everyone is strangely stoic this morning, annoyed by the humidity, the uncertainty, the death of Mike Randall, and the possibility that his clue could be yet another dead end.
Yet we continue on, and we return to the jungle.
Lani and Haku lead us, but we are familiar enough with this side of the island at this point that there is no real danger of getting lost. I have plenty of maps at my disposal, and honestly … it’s an island. There’s only so far you can go before you hit the seashore.
Today, we move swiftly, hardly resting. We leave early in the morning and by noon we have already trekked eight miles—only two miles away from our destination. I study the maps, and of course, Lani knows exactly where we are going.
It takes us just under two hours to reach the caves. We slip out of the jungle and I see a sign that has been broken, boasting the name of the caverns. We keep walking until we come to a small cliff. A bright yellow staircase descends into the lush greenery below, and I see the barely-there outline of the caves.
“I would suggest that you leave your heavy gear behind,” Haku says. “There are some pretty tight places down there. I haven’t been through the whole cave, but it can’t hurt to play it safe.”
I don’t argue.
We descend the rickety, rusty staircase, and I find my footing on wet soil. The entrance to the caves is almost completely hidden with walls of overhanging vines and thorny hibiscus. I see the dark expanse of the entrance just beyond and cautiously move toward it. I push through the wall of foliage, and then I’m looking down into the dark mouth of the cavern.
Water drips from the ceiling, slicking the mossy rocks.
The ceiling of the cave is low. I walk beneath it, and then the cave opens up. Vines hang from the ceiling, and cool air kisses my cheeks. Haku and Uriah slip in behind me. Chris brings up the rear of the team with Manny.
“Well, this is just bloody paradise,” Manny remarks, and I don’t know if he’s joking or not.
I slowly lower my pack to the ground to lighten my load, taking only my rifle, knife, handgun, flashlight, and map.
“Elle,” I say. “You and Bravo stay here and cover the entrance. Vera, you too.”
She nods, and they both settle down to keep an eye on the front of the cave.
Chris, Uriah, Haku, Lani, and Devin leave their heavy packs, too.
“Manny,” I say. “Stay with Elle and Vera.”
“You’re going to leave me out of the primordial adventure that we’re about to embark on?” he asks, feigning insult. “Come on, don’t be like that, my girl.”
“Please,” I tell him. I am worried about him handling Arlene’s illness, and I think he needs to rest. It’s good for him to be with Elle.
He sighs heavily, but he doesn’t argue.
Chris leads the way into the caves. We don’t know exactly what we’re looking for—besides, if we do find the weapons, I’ll worry about explaining it to Lani and Haku then. They still don’t know why we’re really here. I find it hard to believe that someone hid nuclear weapons inside a random cave on an island in Hawaii, but there must be more to it.
There must be!
If only Randall would have been alive! He could have explained.
&nbs
p; We move deeper into the cave. It gets darker and darker, and my hair is completely soaked with the water falling from the ceiling.
“Just like the good old days,” Devin mutters.
Chris laughs quietly.
In some places, the cave narrows so much that we have to slip through the cracks sideways. I am glad we left our packs behind. I barely squeeze through one area, and then the cave widens again. We’re now far from the entrance and any slight pinprick of light.
I shiver.
I’d hate to be trapped in here.
“I read Tom Sawyer when I was a kid,” I say, my voice echoing slightly. “He gets trapped inside a cave with a crazy Indian named Joe, and the kid almost dies. The next morning, after he escapes, he finds the body of the crazy guy on the floor of the cave, right next to the door.”
“Well, that’s cheerful, Cassidy,” Uriah snorts.
“I was just saying. This reminds me of that.”
Nobody else seems as amused as I am. Suckers.
We walk for what seems like hours. Everything seems to take longer in the dark. At last we come to a slit of light in the distance. We follow it. The cave has multiple breaks in the ceiling, opening up to the sky above. We wind our way through different passageways, searching for some kind of sign that Randall may have left behind to guide us to our destination.
Nothing.
“Maybe he was lying,” Lani said. “Maybe there’s nothing here, and he was just trying to throw us off the trail.”
“No,” Chris replies. “The man died for this. He wouldn’t have told us to come here if there wasn’t a way for us to get to the weapons.”
“Let’s keep looking,” I encourage.
I’m trying to stay positive, but I’m not seeing any point in this. We could explore these caves all day and never find …
“Wait,” I say. “Do you smell that?”
I smell water—and not the kind that’s dripping from the ceiling. I actually smell open water—the scent of fresh water. I know the smell well. Or maybe I’m just going a little crazy because Chris looks at me with an expression that can only be described as total confusion.