by Sam Sisavath
If Gage was insulted by being called a “marauder,” he didn’t show it. Not that he had any right to take offense. The word was appropriate, given what he and the friends had planned to do to Song Island. In the few minutes she’d talked to the man, Gage hadn’t lied to her once. Or, at least, she hadn’t caught him in an obvious falsehood yet. In fact, the man seemed at home with what he was and what he had done. She hadn’t expected that, and a part of her was actually impressed with his frankness.
She sat down on a chair at the foot of his bed. “The eighth man. Does he have a name?”
“I thought you didn’t believe he existed,” Gage said. “You didn’t care about his name back when I told you and that Chinese guy about him.”
“Korean,” Benny said.
“What?” Gage said.
“Keo’s half-Korean, asshole.”
“Same difference.”
“Answer the question,” Lara said.
“Boris,” Gage said, turning back to her. “His name’s Boris.”
“Is he Russian?”
Gage smirked. “Nah. It’s just what we call him.”
“Why?”
“Did you find him yet?”
“No. But we will. Tell me about Boris.”
“What’s to tell? He was a crewman on the Trident before I even signed up. After we, er, took over, he decided to stay onboard. He knows that boat better than everyone, including me.”
“You gave him a choice to stay or leave?”
“Of course I did,” Gage said, sounding almost offended. “Everyone who stayed did so because they wanted to. I didn’t have to force anyone.”
“What happened to the owners of the boat?” Zoe asked.
Gage looked past Lara at the doctor. “We took the boat,” he said, as if that should explain everything.
“How did you take the boat?”
“How do you think we took the boat? They didn’t exactly want to give it up. So we took it.”
“What will Boris do next?” Lara asked.
“What do you mean?” Gage said, shifting back to her.
“Will he try to get off the boat? Like the other two did last night?”
“I have no idea. It’s not like we’re joined at the hip. I captained the boat, and he worked the decks.”
“He sweep the poop deck?” Benny grinned.
Lara ignored him and said to Gage, “Is he dangerous?”
Gage shrugged. “It’s a dangerous world. Who isn’t, these days?”
Lara stared at him for a moment, trying to decide if the man was holding something back. Gage was in his late thirties, with a hardened face that had seen a lot of sunlight over its lifetime. She could imagine this man nonchalantly shooting the Trident’s previous owner and assuming command simply because he could. She’d guess that anyone who traveled with him would be capable of that same level of violence.
She nodded and stood up. “Okay.”
“What about me?” Gage asked.
“What about you?”
“What happens to me now?”
“I haven’t decided yet. Right now, you’re still valuable because I might need someone to pilot the boat. But that doesn’t mean I’ll hesitate to throw you into the water if you endanger my people in any way. I’m betting that with time, I can teach someone to push all those buttons on the bridge.”
“Yeah, but there are so, so many buttons,” Gage said, grinning at her. When he didn’t get the reaction he was expecting, he lost the stupid grin and frowned instead. “Look, truth is, I was a captain before all of this, and I can be your captain, too. I mean, I’m not above taking orders. I did it for most of my life. I can do it again.”
“Good to know.” She glanced at Benny, who sat up straighter. “Keep an eye on him. If he does anything that’s even the least bit threatening toward you or Zoe, you have my permission to shoot him in the other kneecap.” She looked back at Gage. “Who needs legs to push some buttons, right?”
Gage swallowed.
“Gotcha,” Benny said.
Lara walked back to the door, where Zoe was waiting for her. Lara was glad to see the doctor up and moving around. She might have been a third-year medical student back when the world still made sense, but Zoe was the real deal. Lara had a feeling they would need her in the days to come.
Lara nodded at the hallway outside. Zoe understood and followed her out, and Lara closed the door behind them.
“Any word from Will?” Zoe asked.
“He’s on his way back now. He’ll radio in when he’s closer.”
“Good. For a moment there, I thought he might be in trouble. Then I remember who I’m worrying about.”
“Will can take care of himself. It’s us I’m worried about.” She looked back at the door. “You have to be careful around him. Gage. He’s dangerous.”
“I know. That’s what Benny’s here for, right?”
“Benny’s just a kid.”
Zoe smiled at her.
“What?” Lara said.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“Jesus, you’re just a kid, too. All of you guys, except for Mae and Kendra, are just kids.”
Lara smiled. Zoe had a point there. “I guess I haven’t felt like a kid in a long time.”
“I know. Everyone grows up fast these days. You have to.”
We all adapt and grow, or not at all. Adapt or perish.
“Just remember not to relax too much around Gage,” Lara said. “He’s not our friend.”
“Oh, trust me, I know. I just spent an hour with that guy.”
“Good. I gotta get back to the boat and look for Boris.”
Lara turned to go, when Zoe said, “Hey.” When Lara stopped and looked back, Zoe said, “I’m glad Will’s fine, and that he’s coming home.”
“Yeah, me too.”
They exchanged an awkward smile before Zoe went back into the infirmary.
Lara continued up the hall. She unclipped her radio and keyed it. “Blaine, come in.”
“You headed back?” Blaine answered.
“I have to collect a few more bodies to help with the search. Anything happen while I was away?”
“Nothing exciting. Any word on our mystery man?”
“His name’s Boris.”
“Boris? What is he, some kind of Russian?”
“Apparently that’s just what they call him.”
“Hunh.”
“That’s what I said.”
*
She was halfway back to the beach when a slight echo, like a warm and wet popping sound, from far away drifted across the island. It sounded like it was coming all the way from the other side of the lake.
“Anyone hear that?” Maddie asked through the radio. “I’m pretty sure that was a gunshot.”
“Did it come from the yacht?” Lara asked, alarmed.
“Definitely not the yacht,” Blaine said through the radio. “I’m on the bridge, and it doesn’t sound close.”
“Okay, stay where you are, Blaine,” Lara said. “Maddie…”
“We can take off as soon as you show up,” Maddie said.
Lara smiled to herself and started jogging down the pathway that connected the hotel grounds to the beach.
We’re like a well-oiled machine. Okay, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but we’re definitely getting pretty good at this.
She said into the radio as she ran, “Everyone hold your positions. I repeat: hold your positions.”
Two more shots rang out, followed by a long silence, before two more popping noises echoed across the water. It had to have come from the other side of the lake. She remembered hearing the ferocious gunfire between Will and some of Kate’s collaborators months ago from the nearby marina, and those had sounded much louder.
She was halfway back to the beach when there was a long series of gunshots. These came faster and furious, the pop-pop-pop signaling the unmistakable exchange of automatic rifle fire between two sides
.
What was going on out there? It couldn’t have been Will. He would have radioed as he got closer. Plus, the shooting seemed to be coming from the other side of the lake. Will had no reason to venture that far out, especially when a simple radio call would bring a boat to him.
Maddie was waiting for her on the pier, looking out at the lake with binoculars as Lara walked up behind her. “Anything?”
Maddie shook her head. “It’s too far south. The only reason we can hear it is because we’re downwind.”
“So it’s probably not meant for us.”
“I don’t think so, no.” She looked over. “What should we do?”
Lara didn’t answer right away. What should they do? If the shooting was coming from the other side of the lake, it was closer to the Gulf of Mexico than the island. Was what was happening out there worth finding out? What if it was some kind of elaborate trap to lure them out? The last thing she wanted was to send someone out there and have them be picked off by snipers along the shoreline.
What would Will do?
“Lara?” Maddie said. “What should we do?”
“I don’t—” The loud boom! of a shotgun blast cut her off.
This one was much closer to home.
The Trident.
Even as that revelation hit her, there was a second boom! and moments later, the pop-pop-pop of automatic gunfire. It sounded like they were coming from the upper parts of the boat.
The bridge.
*
“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Maddie said. “That’s him?”
“I guess,” Blaine said.
“Him” was Boris. Or a man she assumed was Boris, though she couldn’t be sure without bringing Gage over to the boat to ID him.
The man was large, almost as big as Blaine, with a bushy red beard and a very pale complexion, which was amazing given that he probably spent most of the last year on a boat, basking in the sun. Or maybe he spent most of his time in the engine room, which would explain how he could have hidden from Blaine and Roy earlier in the day.
Whoever he was, he was lying on his stomach a few feet inside the bridge. Blood pooled under him and his head was turned to one side, black eyes staring almost accusingly across the room at Blaine.
A pump-action shotgun leaned against a nearby wall where Blaine had put it. That shotgun had blasted a hole in the bridge door where the lock and doorknob used to be. Having stumbled inside, Boris (unless, of course, there was a second man running around on the Trident) had taken a shot at Blaine only to miss, sending buckshot into another part of the wraparound windshield and adding to the existing damage.
Lara looked at Blaine. “You okay?”
He nodded. “He surprised me, that’s all.”
“Man, we need to stop people from firing guns on the bridge,” Maddie said. “We’re lucky no one’s shot out the control panels so far.”
“I guess he was waiting for just one of us to be on the boat,” Blaine said. “Lucky me.”
“Or maybe he was using the shooting across the lake as a diversion,” Lara said. “Maybe he thought it was his best chance to take back the bridge.”
“Well, the poor bastard figured wrong.”
“Looks like it,” Maddie said. “So, who’s gonna clean up this mess?”
“Don’t look at me.”
“You shot him.”
Blaine pretended he didn’t hear her and said to Lara, “You guys figured out what all the shooting before was?”
“We don’t know, but it was coming from the southern part of the lake,” Lara said.
“It has to be Keo. He went in that direction, and the timing’s right. Maybe we should go see if he needs help.”
Lara didn’t answer right away.
“Lara,” Blaine said. “He could be hurt.”
“No,” she said finally. “Keo’s on his own.” She glanced at her watch. “Besides, we have other work to do now that Boris isn’t a problem anymore. It’s past noon, which means it’ll be dark in less than seven hours.”
Maddie and Blaine exchanged a worried look. Maybe they were hoping she’d change her mind about Keo.
“Head back to the island and bring Gage over,” Lara said to Maddie. “I need to find out what this boat’s fully capable of.”
“So we’re definitely using it,” Blaine said.
Lara nodded. “I don’t know how yet—not exactly—but yeah, I think we’re going to use it.”
CHAPTER 13
KEO
It was eight kilometers from Song Island to the mouth of the channel that connected Beaufont Lake and the Gulf of Mexico. After thirty minutes of traveling at full speed across the wide-open lake, seeing the narrow corridor coming up made Keo slow down to half speed. He instinctively loosened the MP5SD and laid it on top of the console behind the steering wheel.
Better safe than sorry.
Like the rest of the shoreline, the channel was flanked by swaying sunbaked grass on both sides and buildings rose in the distance farther inland. He guessed the channel was about 300 meters wide, which was big enough for most vessels, including the Trident that had come through last night.
He cruised the sixteen-footer toward the familiar bridge that arced over the water and connected the two sides of the channel. The metal structure looked as dangerously old now as it did when he had driven over it yesterday with Blaine and Bonnie. After making sure there was no one on top of it, he glided the boat underneath and onto the other side, passing floating red and green buoys marking the edges of the channel.
More flat and uninteresting fields of grass greeted him. It was peaceful out here, but instead of putting Keo at ease, it only made him more alert. He belatedly noticed that the windshield in front of him only went up slightly higher than his waist, which made it useless in terms of protection. Not that he expected a thin piece of clear plastic was going to deflect a bullet, but, well, something was better than nothing.
A kilometer and a half into the channel, the buildings started to become clearer in the distance. He spotted eerily empty marinas and abandoned shrimp barges, and warehouses dotted both sides of the landscape. Cranes and towering equipment, part of whatever industry had once thrived here, crisscrossed the skyline like ancient sentries. He wondered how long they would remain like that before the elements pulled them back down to earth.
He was glad for the motor running behind him. Keo thought he would become used to the silence of an empty world by now, almost a year in, but that was always proven false whenever he went through an area that was, once upon a time, a nest of activity. The marina back at Lake Dulcet was one of those places. The desolation always got to him, a reminder that no matter what he did, how many promises he kept, or bad (badder) men he killed, the world as he knew it was gone. And in its place was…this.
Whatever “this” was.
He was too far away from land to make out a group of businesses, but they looked like stores or possibly offices. He hadn’t really gotten the chance to explore the area yesterday, and Lara and the others had no reasons to. He did think the two Army Rangers would have at least taken some time to scout their immediate AO for potential dangers, though, and was surprised to learn that they, in fact, hadn’t—
Crack!
The windshield in front of him shattered and Keo instinctively grabbed the submachine gun with one hand, pulled back on the control lever with the other, and hit the plywood floor a split second later.
He waited to hear a follow-up shot, but there wasn’t one. Instead, there was just the boat continuing to move, its forward momentum keeping it going up the channel even though he had put the shift into neutral. Thank God this part of the lake was wide enough that it would take a miracle for him to run aground—
Crack!
The hull in front of him splintered, and a round zipped! to the right of his head and exited the other side before plopping! into the water.
A sniper.
Jesus Christ. There was a sniper out there. A pretty
good one, too, since the guy was probably shooting at him from 150 meters or more from land.
He’s a better shot than me, that’s for damned sure.
The boat’s momentum had lessened by quite a bit now, but it hadn’t stopped completely. How much farther was the channel entrance? If he could reach the Gulf of Mexico, he had an entire ocean to escape into. Even the world’s best sniper couldn’t hit him out there.
Of course, Keo hadn’t lifted his head to make sure of his current position. That would have been a fool move that, quite possibly, also ended his life. Judging by the angle of the first two shots, he guessed he was getting closer to the shooter. The first round had hit from in front of him, and the second had penetrated the boat at an almost 120 degree angle at the port side. Pretty soon, he’d be sidling right alongside the bastard. That, unfortunately, was also going to make it much easier for the guy.
He thought about reaching up and pushing the throttle forward to hasten his trip to the channel’s entrance. That might work, as long as he kept going straight like an arrow. Of course, if the boat started to drift to either the left or right side, he might very well run right into one of those barges or hit the shoreline. It was kind of hard to steer when he couldn’t even see over the sides at the moment.
He kept waiting to hear a follow-up torrent of gunfire and was again surprised there wasn’t any. What was the man waiting for? Maybe the guy couldn’t see him. Keo was flat against the floor of the boat, and if he couldn’t see above the portside gunwale, chances were very good the guy (or guys, if his luck was really that bad) couldn’t see him, either. The fact that the man hadn’t fired again was unsettling. A man who didn’t shoot randomly was a lot more dangerous than one who just fired blindly at a target.
So how did that help him?
It didn’t, really.
He was stuck, and the boat had slowed down to a crawl now even though the engine was still coughing behind him, threatening to shut down at any second. His only available line of sight was up at the open skies, because looking left, right, front, or back only offered up the same ugly navy color.