by Jen Blood
He didn’t look convinced. I hesitated. I’d been considering a plan for a while now—one I knew Cameron wouldn’t love, and Diggs would outright hate. Still… Sitting around waiting for more shit to go wrong was doing no one any good.
“Listen, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about. I have an idea.”
His eyes were unquestionably pained. “Does that ever end well for anyone? Your ideas, I mean?”
“Not usually,” I admitted. “But it’s doing even less good just rattling around in my brain. You have a second?”
He sighed. “I could probably spare a few more.”
Cameron was more receptive to my idea than I’d expected. By the time we had a rough plan hatched, Diggs and Jack were back. Cameron and I watched them come up the path, Cameron tenser with every step they took. I knew he was a stone-cold killer who’d taken out God only knew how many people… Despite that, I still felt kind of bad for the guy.
He stood as soon as Jack strode through the front door. “Do you want to talk to Diggs while I speak with Juarez?” he asked me.
“Cameron!” I heard Jack call from the other room. Not a happy call.
“Maybe we should stick together on—”
Jack interrupted before I could get the rest of the thought out. He strode through the door, slamming it open so hard it cracked against the wall. Einstein, who’d been resting peacefully at my side, skittered to his feet.
“Jack,” I said. I stood in front of Cameron. Diggs was beside Jack, a restraining hand on his arm.
“Get the hell out of the way, Erin,” Jack said.
“Not if you’re going to murder Cameron, I’m not,” I said.
“Why shouldn’t I?” he demanded. “Do you have any idea what he’s done for this organization?” His usually handsome face was dark with something that went far beyond simple anger.
“It’s all right, Erin,” Cameron said. He brushed a surprisingly gentle hand across my shoulder and pushed me aside. “There’s no excuse for what I’ve done in my life. Certainly no redemption. I accepted that long ago.”
He stepped around me. Jack stood there for a split second, he and Cameron face to face. He wavered.
“What did you do to me?” Jack asked. His voice shook. “What the hell did your people do?”
“I’m sorry,” Cameron said. He sounded it, too. “I tried… I did try, with you. And I got you away from them, eventually.”
“Tell me what happened.”
And Cameron did.
It started in Guyana—or before Guyana, actually, since Jack was born in the People’s Temple in San Francisco. Cameron was part of everything, back then. Working with Jim Jones; working with Project J. When Jones moved his congregation to the remote village in Guyana that would eventually become known as Jonestown, Jack’s mother was there.
“What was her name?” Jack asked.
Cameron hesitated. Looked pained. “Sonya,” he said finally. “She was Mexican. Beautiful—and very sweet. She’d gotten pregnant. Her family threw her out. So, she joined the church.”
“Mexican. Not Cuban,” Jack said.
“Your father was Cuban—or that’s what Sonya said,” Cameron explained. “I don’t know who he was. I’m sorry. Sonya didn’t talk about him much. She was very devoted to the church, though. And Jim.”
“Jim Jones,” Jack clarified. “I don’t understand something, though: the memories I have of that place are so clear. I remember talking to my mother, hearing Jones’ voice… If I was only a year old, how is that possible?”
“Things get muddied when a person’s memories are erased,” Cameron said. “They’re often more vivid when they do return, shaded with impressions you may have had at the time, things you heard later. You probably heard Jones’ death tapes at some point when you were older, and they’ve become enmeshed with your true memories of that day.”
Jack considered the answer before he nodded for Cameron to keep going.
The story went on: Sonya was there for that fateful November when everything spun out of control. She drank the poison. Jack didn’t. Cameron found him. Barely a year old, crying, crawling among the dead.
And he hid him.
“So why don’t I remember anything?” Jack demanded. “If you saved me from J., why do I have no memory of the family you placed me with?”
Cameron didn’t answer for a moment. I could almost see the whole thing replaying, scene by scene, in his head. “Because they didn’t keep you for long. I left you with a family in Guyana, intending to either return for you when it was safe or just let you stay with them. They were good people.”
“What happened to them?” I asked. What appeared to be genuine pain flashed in Cameron’s eyes.
“They were killed. J. found out—the organization had already started work with you, Jack. You were important to the project; one of the first subjects they were able to work with virtually since birth. J. found the family I’d left you with, and slaughtered them.”
Silence fell in the room. We were seated by then, four of us in the small room, so close our knees touched. Einstein had curled himself up and was lying directly under my chair, his chin on my foot. Despite everything, it felt really good to have my damn dog back. Every so often, I’d glance up to look at the monitors of the island. They were empty—every one of them. No sign of anyone out there.
“So J. took me again,” Jack said. His voice had gone flat. “Who raised me after that? I get flashes of moments: a woman teaching me to shoot. To kill. Holding a gun as big as my arm. I couldn’t have been more than six or seven.”
“Dexter Mandrake,” Cameron said.
“Dexter Mandrake—the head of the project?” I said.
“That’s right,” Cameron said. “Mandrake wanted to see what he could accomplish with unlimited access to a subject. Up to that point, the boys he worked with lived elsewhere—were raised by someone else.”
Jack just sat there for a second, taking it in. “What happened when I was thirteen?” he asked.
“I don’t know that much,” Cameron said. “There was someone else who wanted to take over the Project—I do know that. We hadn’t been part of the U.S. government for more than a decade, but Mandrake still adhered to the old protocols. We had systems in place. Misguided as he might have been, he believed he was doing the right thing. Was convinced the work he did was important.”
“But this guy who took over—he didn’t believe that?” Diggs asked.
“I don’t think so,” Cameron said. “I don’t know who took over, what his name was, what his motivation is.”
“And this man killed Mandrake?” I prompted.
“He ordered it,” Cameron said. He paused. “It was another execution—another slaughter. They went in, killed the family.” He stopped at the look on my face.
“How was Jack saved that time, then?”
“I didn’t work for Mandrake or J. anymore. I’d distanced myself, after Payson Isle.” I thought of the story he’d just told me. What he’d gone through after he set the fire on the island; how he’d saved Kat and me. I kept quiet, and let him continue. “I was still following the Project, though. Watching Mandrake, just to keep tabs… It’s difficult to explain. I’d checked out of my life to a large degree by then. I thought if I could understand Mandrake better, then I might be able to understand myself, the things I’d done.”
“So you were there the night these people attacked?” Diggs asked. Jack had gotten quiet.
“I was,” Cameron confirmed. “I saw them come in, and I managed to take out two of the team members.” There was something he wasn’t telling us, something that had happened that night that he either wouldn’t or couldn’t share. “I could only get to Jack, though. Everyone else was killed.”
“You saved me. Again,” Jack said.
Cameron nodded. “After that, I wiped your memory using a technique I’d learned when I was with the military. I placed you with the nuns in Miami, where I hoped you would be safe. W
here you’d be able to live a normal life.”
“But there’s still something I don’t understand,” I said. “If you got him away from J., how did he end up here in Littlehope—just a few miles from my father…who, by then, was working for J. again, right?”
“Coincidence,” Cameron said. Everyone in the room just stared at him. He shrugged. “It happens. It had nothing to do with J. They had no idea who you were at that point.”
“That’s bullshit,” Jack said. I’ve gotta say, I was with him on that. “Then how did they figure out who I was? Because clearly they did. My wife…”
“Shit,” Diggs said before I could ask the question. All eyes turned to him. He nodded to the TV monitors. “We’ve got company.”
I followed his gaze. In the greenish-white glare of the night-vision camera lens, a single figure strode along one of the paths, an automatic rifle in her hand. She was young. Pretty. Trim.
And crazy as hell.
My blood curdled.
“What the hell’s your daughter doing here?” I asked Cameron.
He stood. “Stay here. I’ll take care of it.”
“How, exactly?” I asked.
“I’ll talk to her.” I just stared at him. “She’s my daughter, Erin.”
Right. In the real world, that was supposed to mean something. This was J., though. With them, it seemed family just meant one more pawn in their endless mind games.
“If she’s the one who killed my father—” Diggs said.
“I’ll take care of it,” Cameron repeated, more firmly this time. We all got up and followed him into the meeting room, Einstein scrambling after us. Monty was at the table with a bowl of cereal, reading. He looked up when we came out.
“We’ve got company on the island,” I told him. He set his book aside with a nod, while I turned to Cameron. “What do you want us to do?”
“Stay here,” Cameron said without a second thought.
“Forget it,” Jack said. “How many people have you killed over the years? Slaughtered in their sleep? How do we know this isn’t a setup? I’m coming with you.”
“I don’t negotiate when it comes to my daughter,” Cameron said. “Stay here,” he repeated.
This time, Jack didn’t argue.
Chapter Fifteen
Of course, the second Cameron was out of there, I was ready to saddle up.
“Someone should stay and watch the monitors,” Jack said.
I looked at Monty. “Do you mind?”
“I was thinking this would be a good job for you, actually,” Diggs said.
“Like that would happen in this lifetime. Now come on, or we’ll lose him. Are you okay staying back?” I asked Monty again.
“Do I mind not going out in the wind and the ball-numbing cold to chase some hot bitch who’s probably here to kill us?” He crunched on a spoonful of Cheerios and pretended to ponder. “That’s a tough one.”
I pulled on my boots. Einstein whimpered, tail wagging. The dog has a keen nose for adventure. “Sorry, buddy—not this time. You mind watching him, too?” I asked Monty.
“The dog and the TV—got it.”
Thirty seconds later, Diggs, Jack, and I were all out in the cold again. It stole my breath and burned my lungs, the night too cloudy for stars. Nine months away from this, and it was possible I’d forgotten how to appreciate the charm of nights like this. Given the circumstances, summer would be a hell of a lot easier to handle right now.
Cameron was already out of sight, but thanks to the cameras, we knew where Jenny was—and, presumably, that’s the direction he was headed. We walked in silence, single file with Jack in the lead and Diggs behind me. Dead leaves on the path meant our footsteps were hardly silent, but we did the best we could. I couldn’t imagine that Cameron really thought we’d stay behind, anyway.
Beyond our own breathing and the occasional, hollow hoot of an owl in the darkness, the night was quiet. After we’d walked for ten minutes or so, Jack stopped and held up his fist—which I knew from years of devoted primetime viewing meant we should stop, too.
He was the only one with a flashlight—a headlamp that he turned off now, so we were all plunged into darkness. I waited for Allie to show up, but we were on the other side of the island from the Crack where I’d seen her before.
I listened while we remained huddled together on the path. At first, I heard nothing but the faint murmur of voices; after a second or two, I could distinguish between Jenny’s murmur and Cameron’s, but I couldn’t make out their words. I peered over Jack’s shoulder. I could just make out the beam of a flashlight off to the side of the path, through thick brush and naked white birch trees.
“…you need to stop,” I heard Cameron say. “This isn’t the way—”
Jenny cut him off, too low to hear.
“Stay here,” Jack whispered to me. “I’m going closer.”
Diggs and I nodded. He crept forward without turning on the flashlight. He made it no more than a few steps before a branch cracked beneath his feet—it sounded like cannon fire in the stillness. Jenny and Cameron both went quiet. Then:
“Don’t go,” Cameron said. “Damn it—stay here. You don’t need to do this, Jenny.”
She didn’t answer. I could hear her retreat in the night, no worry any longer about being heard. Before any of us could take off in pursuit, Cameron appeared on the path.
He wasn’t happy.
“I’m not arguing with you about it anymore,” he said as we returned to the house. The door slammed behind him, and we were in the meeting room yet again. Einstein raced to greet us while Cameron continued with his dressing down. “Any operation needs a chain of command to be successful.”
“You’re not commanding anything,” Jack said. His voice was so far from the cool, reasonable Jack Juarez I once knew, it was barely recognizable. “And you sure as hell aren’t commanding us. It’s not our fault she ran.”
“You sounded like a herd of elephants—of course it’s your fault she ran,” Cameron insisted. He strode past us to the alcove. “Did you see her go?” he asked Monty.
“A boat left maybe two minutes ago,” I heard him say. A couple of chairs scraped across the floor, and he appeared in the doorway. He joined us in the meeting room, Carl and Jamie behind him. “It was hidden in an inlet on the western shore. You got any idea what she was doing here?”
“Either looking for me or looking for Erin,” Cameron said. “What was she doing when you saw her?”
“Just wandering around, as far as I could tell—at least, that’s what she was doing until you got to her. Didn’t look like she was looking for a person, though. No offense, but you guys ain’t that hard to find. It looked more like she was searching for something than someone.”
I tried to read Cameron’s expression at this information, but he was just as impenetrable as ever. “Either way, there’s nothing we can do about it now. The good news is that I don’t believe she meant any of us any harm. She wants J. taken down just as much as any of us now.”
“That would be comforting if it weren’t for all the people she’s mowed down recently,” I said. “Including Diggs’ father.”
“What do you want me to do about it?” Cameron asked, still prickly. “Would you like me to go after her? Take a boat and return to the mainland to track her down, or stay here and try to protect us from the real threat?”
“You don’t have to get pissy about it,” I said, my own temper rising. “But considering what your daughter’s been up to lately, you can’t expect us not to be leery when she comes sniffing around this island.”
“Look, as much as I’d love to fight about Cameron’s psychotic daughter,” Diggs said, “I think there are some other issues we need to address. Namely, what the hell is our next move? Jenny’s already killed three people, and she obviously hasn’t left town yet. Tomorrow’s New Year’s Eve… Do you think she has anyone else in her crosshairs?”
“It’s possible,” Cameron said.
“An
d you really think J. might show up here? Or at least the team leader who’s supposed to be overseeing this next operation?” Diggs pressed.
“Again,” Cameron said, “it’s possible. I don’t know anything with any degree of certainty.”
“Perhaps we should sit,” Carl said. “As far as I can tell, there is no plan—no strategy for what we are doing. I would feel better to have some strategy.”
“Strategy is good,” Diggs agreed.
“I’ll get tea,” Jamie said.
“Coffee would be better,” I said.
“Not for people who’ve slept less than five hours in the past forty-eight,” she corrected me. I’d almost forgotten, running so long on adrenaline and pure fear. “Whatever else you people do tonight, you need to sleep.” She exited to the kitchen without waiting for anyone to fight her on it.
“It doesn’t seem like staying out here is doing anyone any good,” Jack said when she had gone. The others settled around the table. “I’m going back to the mainland tomorrow. At least there I can do some surveillance, talk to others in town to try and figure out what’s happening.”
“Actually, we were talking about that,” I said. “Earlier. And Cameron and I decided—” Cameron started to interrupt, which was bad because I knew he was about to blame the whole idea on me, so I just kept talking over him. “—that the best plan would actually be for all of us to come out of hiding tomorrow, and get back on the mainland for a while.”
“You and Cameron decided that, huh?” Diggs said.
“It’s possible the idea was originally mine,” I said. “But he went along with it.”
“I said it wasn’t out of the question,” Cameron said. “There’s a difference.”
“Not in Solomon’s world,” Diggs said.
“And what is this plan, exactly?” Jack asked.
“We stop hiding,” I said simply. “We go to the mainland, and we do our thing. Talk to people—including Laurie Smith, that girl Diggs’ dad was…friendly with. Try to get some investigation done in the daylight hours for a change.”