“I’m very sorry,” she said. “I lost my husband to the Taliban five years ago. Our daughter barely got to know him.”
“We seem to have some sad things in common.”
“They may not all be sad.”
“I’m sure they’re not, but I’m afraid I have a ship to run. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He turned and walked off down the passageway, leaving Andie watching after him, feeling like a complete fool, her self-esteem in a sudden tailspin. She thought of what her dead husband might think if he could see her at that moment and very nearly started to cry.
“You know what?” Bisping said, turning around and coming back down the passageway.
“What?” she said, swallowing and attempting to smile prettily.
“What’s wrong?” he said, seeing her eyes.
“Nothing. What were you going to say?”
“I was going to say that I was full of crap just now. There’s no reason we can’t have dinner in my cabin later if you think you might like to.”
“I’d love to,” she said, a warmth spreading through her.
“Perhaps you could bring your daughter?” he suggested.
“As a chaperone?” she asked with a smile.
“There are no secrets aboard a ship, Andie. And it’s important that I lead by example.”
“Of course.”
“I should also warn you, though . . . in case we find that we do have other things common. I’m the permanent captain of Boxer now, which means I’ll be at sea whenever she’s at sea, and I’ve got no idea how often that’s going to be. Particularly if there is more trouble with the Chinese. We sank three of their vessels on this cruise, and we have no idea how much of their navy is still active or what their intentions may be.”
“William, as long as this ship is the only woman I’d have to share you with, I’ll take my chances.”
“Very well, then. I’ll send someone for you after a while.”
“Looking forward to it,” she said with a smile.
Forrest sat holding Melissa’s hand, his head resting against the pillow, the curtain drawn around his bed. “So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked, giving her fingers a squeeze.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she said, lowering her eyes.
“Do you think I’m stupid?”
She shook her head.
“Well, tell me what it is. You and I don’t have secrets from one another.”
Her eyes filled with tears and she turned her face toward the foot of the bed.
“Don’t hide your face. Talk to me.”
“I can’t,” she whispered.
“Since when?”
She shook her head again, saying, “You’ll think I’m . . .”
“I’ll think you’re what?”
“Bad.”
“Oh, bullshit. Look at me . . . Look at me . . . There’s nothing you can do to make me think you’re bad. If you took a shit in church, I’d find a way to excuse it. And what’s worse than shitting in church?”
“Lots of things.”
“Well, nothing having to do with you. So tell me.”
“I’m jealous,” she softly, almost ashamedly, tears running down her face.
“Of Veronica?”
She closed her eyes and nodded, lowering her face to the mattress, and he let go of her hand, running his fingers through her curls, petting her. Melissa felt the heat spread through her, the body ache that she had never known until her feelings for him first began to change, making her feel dirty and ashamed.
“Why?” he asked her gently.
“Because I love you,” she said in a barely audible whisper.
“I love you too.”
But she shook her head, whispering into the sheet that it was not the same.
“How do you know?” he said softly, touching her face.
She sat up and looked at him.
“Hmm?”
“I don’t think you understand what I mean.” She wiped her nose with her fingers.
“I understand exactly what you mean. Wanna run off and get married as soon as we get to Hawaii?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not like that . . . I can’t explain it.”
“Can I be honest with you?” he said, giving her hand another squeeze.
She nodded.
“You’re conflicted because there aren’t any young men around. When we get to Hawaii that will change, and that feeling you have won’t confuse you anymore.”
Her eyes grew big and she felt her face grow hot.
“See?” he said with a smile. “I know what you’re going through. And I’ve never pulled any punches with you, so I won’t start now. It’s completely natural, what you’re feeling. We just have to find you someone your own age to feel it for, that’s all.”
“And what if I don’t?” she said quietly, worried that Ulrich or one of the others might hear.
“Then I’ll dump Veronica,” he whispered, “and we’ll run away together up into the mountains and live in a hut.”
She snickered. “Nuh-uh.”
“Oh, don’t be too sure. She’ll be old and ugly pretty soon, and you’ll still be young and beautiful.”
“Shut up,” she said, laughing softly. “You’re not going to tell her we had this talk, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Promise me.”
“I swear on my hope of being reborn a cat that I will never tell her we had this conversation.”
“You don’t want to come back as a cat!”
“I never told you that?”
“No,” she said. “Why the hell would you want to be a cat?”
“Have you ever seen a cat take any shit from anybody?”
“No,” she laughed.
“Well, next time around I ain’t takin’ no shit from nobody.”
She stood and slid her arms around his neck, then blushed and leaned over to kiss him chastely on the lips. “I love you, Jack.”
“Love you too, honey.”
When she was sure Melissa was gone, Veronica stepped out from behind Kane’s curtain and stood looking at Forrest. “It scares me how easily you handled that.”
“What was hard about it?” he said. “All I had to do was tell her the truth. And you know what they say about the truth.”
“Well, you’re committed to living in a hut if this doesn’t work.”
“Oh, stop it. She’ll have ten boyfriends by this time next month.”
Captain Bisping entered the sick bay a few moments later and stood outside Forrest’s curtain. “Knock, knock.”
“Come on in,” Forrest said.
Bisping pulled the curtain aside to see Veronica sitting on the edge of his bed. “I had to have a little talk with the single women in your crew.”
Forrest chuckled. “And how did that work out for ya, Captain?”
Bisping, feeling a little light-headed over Andie, smiled and said, “I’m guessing you’ve had your hands full these past eighteen months.”
“Women respond to kindness, Captain. Remember that.”
Veronica hit him in the head.
“Hey, I’m wounded, you know!”
“Not as bad as you’re gonna be.”
Bisping shook his head. “I’ve received word from Pearl. Our leadership is particularly concerned about the health of you and your men.”
“Well, that’s awfully nice of them, Captain.”
“Turns out,” Bisping went on, “that the four of you are going to be the only Green Berets of fighting age in all the Hawaiis.”
“Well, we’re retired.”
“No,” said Bisping, “I’m afraid you were retired. You see, everybody’s got a job to do in Hawaii these days, Captain. And President Thorn is going to be asking for your assistan
ce with a little piracy problem we’ve been having. Our settlements along the coasts are being raided. Most people live in Honolulu now, but the settlements are important for protecting the infrastructure of the Islands for future repopulation. So the settlers are actually caretakers, and we need someone qualified to teach them how to defend themselves . . . and since the training of indigenous troops is a big part of what the Special Forces were all about . . . Well, it speaks for itself, doesn’t it?”
Forrest looked up at Veronica. “First cannibals and now pirates. Jesus Christ, you’d think I was a goddamn sailor.”
Epilogue
There were dozens of gulls in the sky as Marty Chittenden and Shannon Emory disembarked from the Boxer, walking the ladder leading down to the pier. They stood off to the side watching the birds for a long time, unable to take their eyes off them. The only other wild creatures they had seen in the last year were rats, and the sounds of the gulls were like sweet music.
“Nobody knows where the damn things came from,” said a voice from behind. “They just showed up one day.”
They turned around and there was Ester Thorn, bundled up in her coat and leaning against her cane.
“Holy shit,” Marty muttered, a grin coming to his face. “It’s really you!”
“Who is she?” Emory asked.
“It’s Ester,” he said, walking over to the old woman and giving her a hug.
“You look ten years older, boy. Turned you into a man, hasn’t it?”
“Not the kind of man I ever wanted to be,” he said, turning toward Emory. “Ester, this is someone I’d like you to meet. Shannon Emory. She’s the best friend I’ve ever had. We’ve been taking turns saving one another’s lives.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Ester said, taking her hand. “Pretty thing.” Then she turned and gestured with her cane at all of the construction taking place around the harbor. “Take a look at the new power grid we’re building! It’ll be the most efficient grid there’s ever been. Of course, for now we remain largely dependent on the Navy’s nuclear reactors to pick up where the wind farms leave off, but it won’t always be that way. We’re harnessing the tide, Marty. Our engineers believe we’ll be drawing up to eighty percent of our power from the sea within the next five years. After that, who knows?
“Of course, I won’t be here to see it,” she added. “But you will, Marty, and don’t worry about a thing. Everyone in these islands knows who you are now, and they know they’ve got you to thank. I’ve made sure of it.”
“Ester, all I did was spot the rock.”
“No, son, you did a lot more than that. You got this grumpy old woman up off her ass and sent her to Hawaii to carry out your vision. Your vision, Marty. This sure as hell wasn’t mine. I would have said to hell with it all. And now, with a little honey here and a little honey there . . . you’ll keep the Naturalist Party in power for the next twenty or thirty years. The Federalists are growing weaker every day now.”
Marty laughed. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”
“You will, son. You will. There’s a lot to do—a lot for you to live up to! This is your baby as much as it is mine, and now you’ll have to help me raise the damn thing. I didn’t turn the Navy around and give up one of my destroyers for you to sit on the beach and watch the lava cool.”
Emory chuckled and bumped Marty with her shoulder. “Told you,” she said. “There’s still a need for your skinny ass.”
“Captain Bisping!” Ester said suddenly, a scowl coming to her face the moment she spotted him coming through the crowd.
Bisping touched Andie’s arm and asked for her and Trinity to wait for him. “Madam President?”
“Captain Bisping, I’d like to know just who exactly that goddamn Christmas greeting was intended for!”
“Well, it was intended for you, Madam President,” he replied equably.
Ester laughed aloud and clapped him on the shoulder. “Old Longbottom thought it was meant for him!” she cackled, leaning heavily into her cane. “Boy, you should have seen the look on his face. He got so red I thought he was going to have himself an apoplexy. Honest to God! I told him, though. I said, ‘Oh, Admiral, don’t think so damn much of yourself! That message is meant as an affront to me. I’m the fool who sent him out there with only one escort! Not you!’
“I’ve apparently got a lot to learn about military matters, Captain, but you and I, we know how to talk to one another. There’s no messing about with you. We’ll get this fleet allocation business worked out in a way that we can all live with. Don’t you worry. You’re hugely popular now, Captain. A bona fide hero of the deep!”
By now Bisping was grinning, seeing easily into Ester’s political stratagem. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I don’t suppose I can talk you into giving up the Boxer for a cabinet position, can I?”
“Madam President, I’d rather be keel-hauled.”
She cackled some more, saying, “Well, then I’ll get as much mileage out of you as I can whenever you’re ashore. How’s that?”
Then she took him aside, saying in a low voice for only him to hear: “Maybe you could suggest to the admiral that he send his requests through you in the future. It might keep things running a little more smoothly—provided he thinks it’s your idea.”
“Ester,” Bisping said, “suppose we let him think it’s his idea?”
She laughed and squeezed his hand. “We’re going to get along fine, Captain, you and me. Be sure to come by the hotel in the morning, will you? I’ve got a meeting with Longbottom about this supposed Chinese threat, and I want you there for it. I’m half worried he thinks we should invade.”
“The admiral may have some extreme ideas,” Bisping said, “but he knows the sea.”
“The sea!” Ester said, pointing at him. “He knows the sea, sure enough. But the man’s got no vision. We need people of vision in these islands. I keep saying it!”
She turned around and put her hand on Marty’s shoulder, dismissing Bisping almost out of hand. “Marty, I haven’t felt this good in years,” she said, taking his arm and leading him up the pier toward a waiting black limousine. “Now, I want you to come along with me. We’re meeting Harold Shipman over a late lunch—he’s the man who put me into office—and I don’t want you to worry about your friends. They’ll be fine. You’re all staying in my hotel for the first few weeks until we get the kinks ironed out. The people want to see you all and to get to know you. And I want you to tell me about these Green Beret friends of yours too. All of Honolulu’s talking about the five heroes who built some kind of an ark beneath the ground. It’s craziness, I know, but the people need heroes these days, Marty. They need the inspiration to keep them working!”
Marty looked back over his shoulder at Emory, shrugging in a gesture of helplessness.
Emory laughed and waived him goodbye as Ester pulled him into the backseat after her, still talking a mile a minute as Marty closed the door.
Acknowledgments
Thank you, to the following . . .
My parents for putting me through college where I came to love this craft, which so many of us slave over, willingly, like oarsmen rowing for our very lives.
Alice Austin of Manchester High School, the first to indulge the earliest scribblings of a fledgling writer.
Professor Robert Pope of the University of Akron for all of his guidance these many years. No writer could ask for a better mentor. No student could expect a finer teacher. And no man could hope for a truer friend.
Elicia Skelton for restoring to me that which I had lost. Mere words cannot adequately express the depth of my appreciation for your appearance on the scene. My finest wishes are with you always.
Lisa Cron and Doug Michael for their many hours of diligent work and, most of all, for believing in me.
My agent, Ian Kleinert, for believing in this story.
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And finally, Dr. James Helmuth and Mr. David Lynn Jones . . . for saving my life.
Just as I have attempted to demonstrate within the pages of this novel, no one is an island, and no one does it alone.
About the Author
THOMAS KOLONIAR is a former police officer from Akron, Ohio. He now lives in Mexico. Cannibal Reign is his first novel.
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Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
CANNIBAL REIGN. Copyright © 2012 by Thomas Koloniar. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition JULY 2012 ISBN: 9780062136435
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062025821
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