by Sam Sisavath
“I believe there’s something out there desperately trying to balance the universe. Maybe I’m a part of it; maybe I’m just playing a very minor role. And maybe it sent you here to kill me, to end my command. If that’s the case, then so be it.”
“So you actually think you can win this war by dropping bombs on towns full of kids, old men, and pregnant women?”
“Is it really that farfetched?”
“Have you been out there? Have you seen how many of them there are? All you’re doing is killing a whole lot of people when there aren’t that many of us still left to begin with. You’ll never be able to do enough with the limited resources you have. All you’re doing is giving the nightcrawlers minor headaches. This crusade of yours will never expand past Texas.”
“Headaches can grow into tumors.”
“Good one, but it’s still bullshit. You don’t even have enough men right now to cover half of Texas, and you expect to take the entire state? What about the other forty-nine? Mexico? Canada? However many you think are in Texas, there are millions—billions—more out there.”
Mercer smiled.
“What’s so funny?” Keo asked.
“You seemed to be under the impression I haven’t considered all the possibilities. I have. Every single one.”
“And yet here you are, fighting an impossible war.”
“This was never going to end overnight. This is the fight of our lifetime, Keo. And when we’re gone, our children and their children’s children will still be fighting it. There isn’t any easy way out. No quick victories. The only other option is surrender. Become slaves. I’d rather die on my feet than on my knees.”
“Nice speech. Is that what you used to convince the others?”
“I didn’t need to convince them. They always understood what was at stake.”
Not all of them, Keo thought, and said, “Your own people are already turning on you.”
“Just because you’ve given up doesn’t mean the rest of us will too, Keo.”
“You’ll never be able to hold everyone together when more of your people start coming back home with stories about dead pregnant women and children. You’re massacring civilians, you crazy bastard.”
Mercer frowned. It was the first real emotion the man had surrendered, and Keo felt a rush of triumph.
“And you’re here to murder me for… What was her name?” Mercer asked.
“Jordan.”
“Jordan,” Mercer repeated.
“I don’t like the way you say her name.”
“No?”
“I don’t want you to say her name again.”
“You’re losing your composure, Keo.”
“Fuck my composure, and fuck you,” Keo said, and lifted the gun and pointed it at Mercer, wishing again that the P250 had a hammer for him to dramatically cock back and hear that clicking! sound, but he had to be satisfied with the resigned look on Mercer’s face.
The man wasn’t afraid—if he was even capable of that particular emotion. No. That wasn’t fear staring back at Keo; it was a man who was at peace with his decisions.
He’s either insane, or he just doesn’t give a fuck.
“Shoot true,” Mercer said. “You don’t have a suppressor on the weapon, so the first shot will alert the base and the guards on duty. You’ll want to be out of this room and running as soon as I drop. Given my lack of resources at the moment, my guess is you’ll make it almost to the front doors, but no farther.”
“There’s a rear exit close by. I plan to take it.”
“Your inside man.”
“Uh huh.”
“He or she would have also told you about the sentries in the fields. Even if you managed to elude them, you’d never access the boat yards alone.”
“What makes you think I’ll be alone?”
“An extra gun or two won’t help you very much.” Mercer shrugged. “But that’s all a moot point, since I’ll be dead anyway.”
“You’re not even going to pretend to beg for mercy?”
“Everyone dies, Keo. If fate dictates that I die here, tonight, then so be it. The war will go on. Better men than I will assume leadership roles.”
“Your true believers.”
“No, just loyal men who understand what I’m trying to accomplish.”
“Well, in that case, I might just have to stick around and kill them, too.”
“Ambitious.”
“What the hell, I could always use a hobby. Life’s boring these days without a little Internet porn to pass the time with.”
Keo lined up his shot.
“One thing,” Mercer said.
“Changed your mind about begging?”
“Not at all. I was just going to ask: You don’t know anyone important onboard the Trident, do you?”
Keo jerked his forefinger off the Sig Sauer’s trigger and glared at Mercer. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“We were alerted to Riley’s mutiny a few hours ago. Not everyone on the Ocean Star is a traitor. There is still a patriot or two onboard.”
Sonofabitch, Keo thought, but he forced himself to smile back at Mercer and said, “What makes you think any of this matters to me?”
“Because you didn’t just know where to find Black Tide, you also made it onto the island without anyone stopping you. That means your inside man has to be one of Riley’s people. And because you’re not one of my mine—I would remember a face like yours, especially that scar—that only leaves you as a member of the Trident, the group that Riley struck a deal with. Am I close?”
Close enough.
“What did you do?” Keo asked.
“I dispatched one of our warplanes to intercept them. The pilot has a full tank of fuel and his orders are simple: Find the Trident and sink it. The good news for you is that we haven’t heard back from him yet, which means his mission is still ongoing.”
“It’s a big ocean.”
“It’s not big enough to hide from a plane flying at high altitude and equipped with infrared. Not to mention plenty of fuel to search and our very own inside man to tell us which direction they went. All those warm bodies crammed into one moving boat, out there in the middle of a black sea… You really think they’re going to be able to slip by unnoticed?”
Keo ground his teeth together and glared at the man. “You’re willing to murder your own people just to stop them from leaving your crusade?”
“Not at all,” Mercer said. His face remained stony, his voice even. “I have no idea Riley and the others are onboard the Trident. As far as I know, the yacht is full of enemies—strangers. Sinking it, and unfortunately killing every soul on board, was a terrible accident. Or, at least, that’s what I’m going to tell my people, and that’s exactly what they’ll believe, because I’ve never lied to them before.”
Keo curled his finger back around the pistol’s trigger. It would be so easy. One quick pull and Mercer would no longer exist. Keo could already smell the gunpowder, see the viscera on the concrete wall behind the man’s head, the spray of brain matter that would splash the cot’s bedsheets…
Do it. Do it!
What are you waiting for? Do it!
“Call the plane back,” Keo said.
“I can, but not from in here,” Mercer said. “And not with you pointing that gun at me.”
“I thought you were ready to die.”
“I am, but I’m not interested in becoming a martyr. There’s still too much work left to do. Texas was always just the beginning, and I plan on seeing it through to the very end—or as far as I can take it before my time is up.”
“The very bitter end?”
“Hopefully it won’t be too bitter.”
“There are a lot of innocent people onboard the Trident. A lot of them once believed in you.”
“Casualties of war.”
“You’d sacrifice them…”
“It wouldn’t be a sacrifice, but it would be a tragedy. I don’t know Riley and the others
are on that yacht, remember?”
Keo squinted his eyes. If Mercer was feeling triumphant, it didn’t show on his face.
“Where?” Keo asked.
“The Comm Room,” Mercer said, and stood up. “After you give me your gun. This is the only way it’s going to work. The Trident and all the lives onboard it are in your hands. That’s a hefty responsibility. I know a thing or two about that.”
The gun was suddenly very heavy against Keo’s palm, the trigger more resistant than usual against his finger.
He thought of the Trident.
No, not the boat itself, but the people on it.
Lara. Carly. Carrie. Bonnie. The big Mexican and the small Texan. The girl who Lara had adopted and Carly’s little sister. But most of all, he thought of Lara on the Ocean Star, telling him not to be an asshole and to at least try to survive Black Tide Island.
“Clock’s ticking,” Mercer said. “Make your choice, son.”
“I’m not your fucking son,” Keo said through gritted teeth.
Mercer didn’t react at all, but he didn’t sit back down, either.
“I’ll make you a deal,” Keo said.
“I’m listening…”
“Let the Trident go. Tonight. Tomorrow. Just let them go. Don’t look for them again.”
“And in return?”
I’m sorry, Jordan, he thought, and said, “I don’t put a bullet between your eyes. I step out of this door and we never see each other again.”
“I need more than that.”
“I’m all out of candy.”
“You might not care about Riley’s people, but what about your friends?” Mercer asked.
Keo didn’t say anything.
“The only thing left is to ask yourself one question,” Mercer said. He held out his hand with the palm up. “How much of your friends’ lives are you willing to sacrifice to claim my one?”
26
Lara
“There,” Lara said, pointing at the heavily marked map spread out on the table inside her cabin. “The Bengal Islands.”
Riley nodded. “That’s the one. Or ones, to be more specific.”
“And you know what’s there?”
“On the islands?”
She nodded.
“Are you talking about potential survivors?” Riley asked.
“No,” she said, watching him closely across the table.
He was probably leaning too heavily against the wooden edge and putting more of his weight on it than he might normally have if he wasn’t a little drowsy from the meds. Zoe still didn’t want him moving around on his own power even with the crutches, but Riley was right when he said he couldn’t stay bedridden forever, and not with his people crowded onboard the Trident. This was one of those times when they needed to see him, if just to be reassured they hadn’t made the biggest mistake of their lives.
“You know what the islands are mostly used for, right?” she asked him. “Who goes there? And why?”
“It’s a haven for criminals,” Riley nodded.
“So you know.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I guess I am, a little.”
“I was an auditor before all of this. I spent a lot of time freelancing for the U.S. government, looking for places where people hid their money when they thought Uncle Sam had taken enough of it.” He gave her a wry smile. “I know how I know, but how does a third-year medical student know about the Islands’ reputation?”
“Keo told me about it.”
“Him again. Too bad I never got the chance to meet the guy, though Hart had some good things to say. Was he a soldier or something?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what Keo used to be before all of this.”
“You never asked him?”
“He’s never been all that anxious to talk about it.” She shrugged. “Besides, what happened before doesn’t have anything to do with now. And right now, he’s a good friend and someone I wish had come with us.”
“Instead he’s going after Mercer.”
“He has his reasons.”
“A lot of people have reasons to want Mercer dead.”
“He’s done some bad things. They’ve hung men for less.”
Riley nodded, then, “So what else did you want to talk to me about?”
“Your soldiers. How good are they?”
“I wouldn’t really call them soldiers.”
“So what are they really?”
“They’re trained, don’t get me wrong, but they didn’t volunteer to run around Texas creating chaos for a reason. They’re not killers. Aside from skirmishes here and there before R-Day, they haven’t really been in prolonged conflicts. At least, not the kind of gun battles that we might encounter if the aforementioned criminal elements are still hanging around the Islands when we get there.”
“But you trust them to stand up in a firefight?”
Riley seemed to think about it for a moment before nodding—though not quite with enough confidence for her liking. “I don’t think they’ll run from a fight, if that’s what you mean.”
That’s not what I meant at all, but I guess it’s good enough…for now.
“What about your people?” he asked.
“We’ve been surviving out here for the better part of a year. We’re not going to run from anything.”
“You guys have been through a lot.”
“We have.”
“Lost a lot…”
“Everyone’s lost someone, Riley.”
For a moment, his eyes drifted away, as if some long-buried memory was rushing back to him. She knew what it was because she had seen that expression on a lot of faces these days, including her own when she stared in the mirror. She didn’t want to ask him who he’d lost, because eventually the question would get turned back to her.
“And you’re okay with us not going straight to the Islands?” she asked him.
Riley nodded. “In your position, I’d do the same thing. Besides, the Islands aren’t going anywhere. They’ll still be there waiting for us when we reach them tomorrow or next week or next month.”
That’s what I keep telling myself, and maybe that’s why we never seem to get there.
“When do you expect them to radio in?” Riley asked.
“As soon as they’re able.”
“It’ll be nice to have an Army Ranger around.”
“What about those kill teams Mercer has running around Texas?”
“They’re mostly civilians, though Benford was in the National Guard. I’m not sure how long ago, though. He and a couple of ex-Army guys did most of the arms training back in the early days.”
“I take it you didn’t have a lot of weapons training while auditing for the U.S. government?”
“You took it correctly. The first time I ever picked up a weapon was after all of this happened. It was a huge learning curve.”
Lara felt like laughing. If Riley only knew the things she’d had to do, how much she’d had to change since the world ended. They were things no one had ever taught her—not her parents or any of those long and hard years in school. Sometimes when she thought about what she’d been through, she had a difficult time understanding how she was even still alive.
Adapt or perish, right, Will?
“I have a question for you,” she said, looking across at Riley.
“Sure.”
“What if Keo succeeds?”
“I don’t understand…”
“Would you go back?”
“Where?”
“Black Tide Island.”
“Go back, after what I did?”
She nodded. “Think about it: How many other people like Erin are out there running around killing for Mercer right now? How many of them are exactly like her in that they just need someone or something to get them to do the right thing? Mercer’s death could be that catalyst.”
“Go back to Black Tide Island,” Riley said quietly.
“You could make a diffe
rence.”
“How?”
“If Mercer’s dead, there’ll be a power vacuum. Someone will have to step in and assume command of all those people, all those guns.” Lara let that sink in before continuing. “I’m willing to bet there are more people like you and Erin than you think.”
“There are,” he nodded. “But why would any of them listen to me? After what I did?”
“Maybe they’ll listen to you because of what you did.”
He stared at her, confused.
“You did what many of them, including Erin, couldn’t—you finally said no to Mercer,” Lara said. “You disobeyed him at great risk. How many of them wanted to, but were too afraid? Maybe that’s why they’ll listen to you.”
“Or maybe they’ll just shoot me as soon as I step onto the island.”
Lara gave him a wry smile. “Or that.”
He chuckled. “That’s not very reassuring, Lara.”
“Sorry. Anyway, I was just thinking out loud.”
“Your friend would have to succeed first for any of this thinking out loud to matter,” Riley said.
He was looking at her, but not really at her. She could tell that she had planted a seed in his head and it had taken root.
“There’s that,” she nodded, remembering the last time she saw Keo, and their last conversation on the Ocean Star.
“Don’t be an asshole, Keo,” she had told him. “If you won’t stay with us, if you won’t come back to the Trident with me, at least promise me you’re not going out there just to get yourself killed. Tell me you’ll at least try to make it back, and mean it.”
“What if I can’t?” he had answered.
“You can. You just have to make the choice.”
“I’ll do my best,” he had finally relented.
Do your best, Keo, she thought now. You better do your goddamnest best, or I’m going to find you and kick your ass.
* * *
“How goes it?” Maddie asked when Lara stepped onto the bridge.
“You tell me,” she said.
“We’re on course. The question is: How long do we wait for them?”
“As long as it takes.”
“Does Riley know that?”
“He knows.”
“And he was good with it?”