Devil's Island

by David Leadbeater

  Drake gulped. It wasn’t an animal howling, not a wolf or a coyote. It came from a tortured throat. From a being hurt beyond repair and recognition.

  It was a human sound.

  Drake trained his gun on the trees. Alicia tightened a finger on her trigger. “If anything moves in there, I’m shooting first and asking questions later.”

  “Just be careful it isn’t a pack of friendly raccoons.”

  “Does it sound like a fucking raccoon?”

  “Dunno, love. I never heard a raccoon howl before.”

  The trees rustled and swayed and then four figures broke clear. Drake hesitated, grimacing, unsure exactly what was coming at them. Then, he realized. It was men; broad, large men who, at one time, were probably mercenaries. Somehow, their bodies had become disfigured. From misshapen faces to irregular skulls; from arms that appeared to have been broken and badly reset to warped and crooked fingers. They loped out of the treeline, still screaming, howling in pain and bloodlust, and came straight for Drake and Alicia.

  “What do we do?” the Englishwoman asked.

  “I don’t want to shoot, but hell, if we don’t defend ourselves we’re gonna die.”

  In counterpoint to his words, more howls erupted from the forest. Drake swallowed drily. “How many of them are there?”

  “And how do they live up here?”

  “I think the Devil has been helping everyone on the quiet,” Drake said, still preparing. “All the clans, I mean. Guns. Ammo. Provisions. Maybe medicines. It’s why he’s so broke.”

  “All this talk of the Devil,” Alicia said. “All this knowledge. And we still don’t know what he looks like.”

  Drake saw the issues with that. “Yeah, but that’s a future problem.”

  Out of options and with the cliff at their back, Drake and Alicia opened fire. Their bullets took down all four attackers, sending them writhing to the ground. Drake ran forward and ended their lives quickly, wincing as he saw the faces up close.

  “What the hell did this to them?”

  “Experiments.” Alicia shuddered. “I hate to imagine.”

  The chorus of howls grew louder, resounding among the trees like a ghoulish choir. The eastern skies were darkening too as the sun set to the west, throwing long shadows over the top of the mountain. Drake couldn’t see between the boughs. Slowly, Alicia and he walked forward, keeping an eye to the caves on their right. More screaming erupted ahead and then the trees began to shake as if a great hand had grabbed them. The screams were so agonized Drake couldn’t imagine they came from a human throat.

  In reality, they didn’t, he thought. These genetic experiments were far from human now.

  They broke through the treeline, a dozen sparsely clothed, disproportionate, barely human figures, brandishing thick branches and carrying large rocks, bellowing with fury as they attacked. Drake raised his gun but a dozen rocks filled the air, aimed at him and Alicia. He flinched away, unable to evade them all, firing as accurately as he could. One attacker collapsed before Drake was struck by a rock. It bounced off his right arm, upsetting his aim, and then another crashed into his jacket just below his throat.

  He staggered back. Alicia shot two runners before taking a blow to the top of the head which sent her to her knees.

  Nine more came on fast, closing the gap.

  Drake re-sighted, fired at an awkward angle, and took out another. Alicia fumbled her weapon up and let loose a volley, smashing two more across the legs. More rocks struck Drake hard, glancing off his armor. One caught him just above the right eye, drawing blood and making him fold. Their enemy leapt at them.

  Drake rolled as a man landed on his right side, shrugged him off. He came up on his knees, brought the rifle around, but then another body slammed into his back, sending him sprawling next to his first opponent. He rolled. A rock came down at his face. Drake brought an arm up, blocking it, but felt sharp pain from his elbow to his wrist as the rock struck.

  Alicia had kicked out as their attackers closed in. She swept the legs of one man and heard his face smash into the rock as another jumped at her. She managed to guard against the kick, using his momentum to throw him beyond her. She swiveled again, gaining space. She looked up.

  Four men leapt on top of her.

  Drake fought his two attackers. Two wounded men dragged themselves toward him as if desperate to be part of the fight. One of the bigger issues was making sure his opponents didn’t get hold of a weapon. He heaved one man away, then turned to another and whipped out his knife.

  He sliced the man’s throat and spun back.

  The second man rushed in hard, straight onto the blade. Drake held it steady for a few seconds before wrenching it free. The man collapsed.

  He checked on Alicia.

  Shit!

  The blonde was being dragged away. Two men had firm hold of her ankles whilst two more pulled her arms. Almost spread-eagled, she was being hauled across the top of the mountain toward the trees.

  Alicia shouted and struggled. Drake was surprised to see her words having no effect since they were top-drawer Myles critical masterpieces. He stalked forward, raising his rifle. Of the two wounded men still dragging themselves across the floor, one half-rose and launched a huge boulder. Drake ducked, turned and killed him. Then he lined up on the first of the four men dragging Alicia.

  A shot and he fell dead, freeing one of her legs. They were close to the treeline now, just crossing the underbrush. Drake had to hurry.

  His next shot fell on an empty chamber.

  Bollocks. He’d been so preoccupied with the fight that he’d forgotten to keep count. Another glaringly obvious tell-tale sign that he wasn’t a soldier anymore. Alicia kicked and squirmed, unbalancing her captors, who pulled up for a moment.

  A rock smashed against Drake’s back. He slammed home a new mag, turned and took care of the other wounded man. Then whirled back to the front.

  “Stop playing with yourself and get these fuckers off me, Drake,” Alicia shouted.

  Drake waited a moment more. Both men holding Alicia’s arms let go and picked up large rocks. It looked like they were about to dash the heavy boulders into her face. Drake shot one through the head.

  Movement from the right caught his attention and made him whip his head toward the cave entrances, trepidation flooding his system with ice water.

  He saw Mai Kitano running out into the open, shielding her eyes at first, but then spotting Drake and sprinting toward him.

  “Mai!” he shouted.

  “Drake!” she cried back.

  “For fuck’s sake!” Alicia bellowed and covered up as an attacker smashed a rock down at her face. It impacted with her right bicep, making her grunt, but she grabbed the wrist of her attacker and threw him to the ground.

  That left the two men that were holding her ankles apart.

  Mai pulled up short, shaking her head. “What the hell is Taz up to now? That’s a new low, Alicia, even for you.”

  Drake smiled as he finished off both men, allowing Alicia the chance to sit up and brush off. By that time Luther, Karin and Dino were running up to them.

  “Any pursuit?” Drake asked.

  “No, we killed them all.”

  “Perfect.”

  Alicia stalked up, giving everyone a death glare. “About time you lot showed up. How was the cave tour?”

  Mai just shook her head. Drake looked to the sunset that had started to spread west. It would soon be dark. “Right,” he said. “The bomb’s still ticking away but we do have time to defuse it. And we need to rescue the prisoners in that compound. Mai—we’ll explain.” He checked the time. “About six hours to detonation. I think we should rest here for a short while and give Dahl a chance to catch up.”

  He sat down on the edge of the cliff, legs dangling, facing the western horizon and its splendid yellow and burnished orange sunset, and the others sat next to him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  Staying with the river, Hayden found that it ultim
ately twisted toward the castle but, for a while at least, brought them closer to the mountain that overlooked it. The river was a quick series of sharp and sweeping bends, lefts and rights, punctuated by small rapids. Among them, only Dahl appeared to be enjoying the ride but then that was to be expected.

  She took the silent moments of the journey to reflect. Back at the Scavenger camp, all in the space of thirty minutes, she’d thought she was going to die twice. First at the stake and then before the impromptu firing squad. The only compensation had been that Mano was at her side.

  Time to move forward, she thought.

  The river dipped suddenly, making her tighten her fingers to cling to the side of the dinghy. Foamy waters lashed her face. She glanced at her colleagues. As soon as they got clear of this island she was going to propose a new strategy, a blueprint that would let them enjoy a future as well as help save the world. Given recent circumstances she was almost certain President Coburn would back it.

  It would mean creating a brand new special ops directive, but countries did that all the time.

  She felt quiet excitement. She couldn’t wait to tell them. Somehow, they’d get Yorgi involved too. She hoped the young Russian was safe in Russia, recovering from his wounds. The new Blood King was still out there, after all.

  The river turned and fell about three feet. Hayden hung on. Her clothing was soaked. Her body ached, cut and bruised from this day’s fighting. In truth, she’d become used to it. But the body and the mind could only take so much.

  Kinimaka was a good cushion to her left. She allowed herself to press into him whenever the situation allowed. He didn’t seem to mind. There was a distant smile on the big man’s face. Maybe the river journey was bringing back old Hawaiian memories. Hayden hoped so.

  Around the Zodiac, Kenzie and Dallas conversed as best they could. Dahl was invested in the ride. Molokai sat hunched over, having pulled his jacket and his single robe about him. Maybe it was his way of cutting himself off from the world, of decompressing. Maybe he was in pain. They still didn’t know much about Luther’s big brother.

  Except that he was fiercely loyal, and effective in a fight. Whatever baggage he brought along was his to keep, or to share. They all had their demons.

  She thought about her father, the example of the perfect cop he’d left behind for her to follow. JJ had been gunned down in a convenience store. There were days when she couldn’t quite remember the full contours of his face, the aspect of his smile. It pained her now because, back then, it was all she lived for. Making her father smile had been the highlight of her day.

  But he had helped mold her into the person she was today. Not once had he coerced her into following his footsteps, into living up to his name. She’d brought all that on herself. Finally though, now, with Mano, and the SPEAR team so well established, she knew that she was content with the person she’d become.

  “You see that?” Dahl was knelt at the front of the boat, totally upright like a Springer Spaniel staring out the window of the car. Hayden imagined his tongue was probably hanging out.

  “Can’t see anything,” Dallas groaned. “Feel sick.”

  “Water doesn’t agree with you?” Kenzie pounced. “I thought you were ex-Army.”

  “Water. Air. Any kind of travel. Being Army doesn’t make you less motion-sick.”

  “Well, that limits your options. How come you never said anything before?”

  “I was . . . manning up.”

  “That just makes it worse. You know, I’ll have to dock your pay.”

  “Funny. You’re so funny.”

  “Hey!” Dahl shouted. “You can moan at each other later. Eyes up front.”

  Everyone caught the tone of the Swede’s voice and shuffled around. Hayden struggled into an upright position, on her knees. The river ran dead straight for a while with grassy, muddy banks and several fallen trees but there was nothing else to obstruct their view.

  To the left the mountain rose, and beyond it they could now see the Devil’s castle. It was where he lived, the place he’d defended against the clans for the last several years. It was where the compounds and the keep and the docks lay. Where the only means of getting off this doomed island lay. Hayden studied the high walls with their crenellations, the weapons she could see poking out, the guards on the walls, the pockmarks in the wall which were undoubtedly the scene of earlier assaults. She could also see the entrance—a pair of high, straight steel doors, like garage roller shutters. Somehow, they looked wrong at the front of the castle, but she could understand the logic.

  Especially now.

  Because, coming across the plains, riding vehicles and running and marching on foot came the clans and all their men. They carried every weapon they had, they carried their belongings, they brandished bows and rifles and RPGs and spears. Their truck bristled with all manner of armament—from improvised, spiked cow-catchers to large projectiles. Men crowded the bed and balanced atop the cab. Behind it came at least seventy more warriors.

  Dahl motioned at them. “They’re trying to finish this,” he said. “It’s about five hours to the explosion. Maybe they’re going after the ships?”

  “Or wealth,” Molokai grunted. “The Devil’s bound to have gold inside. It’s an unshakeable commodity.”

  “That would make sense,” Dahl said. “Plus, I doubt they have warm feelings for this Devil character. He’s saved and destroyed their lives more than once. On this island, despite all its aberrations, its brutes and beasts, he’s the real monster.”

  Kenzie inspected her weapons. “I guess we have about twenty minutes until they start their battle,” she said. “And we have a mountain to climb.”

  Hayden looked to the left. The mountain and everything it offered reared with implacable disdain. It was eternal, unlike them. She braced herself as Dahl and Kinimaka guided the Zodiac to the nearest level bank. Water collided with the side of the raft. She saw animals that looked like rabbits dashing off into the undergrowth. The loamy smell of rotting vegetation replaced the fresh air she’d experienced amid the rushing water. The Zodiac hit earth with a solid impact, sending her into Molokai. No apology was necessary. She picked herself up and eyed the bank.

  “Easy climb.” Dahl was gauging the mountain. “Just stick to the rocky bits there.” He pointed at a series of outcroppings and ledges that ran all the way to the top. “Anyone encounters trouble—yell.”

  She jumped onto the bank and felt her boots sink into the mud. She shrugged her pack tighter around her shoulders and started to walk. Soon, they were up against the mountain.

  “I hope to God Drake’s up there,” Dahl said, peering up.

  “I’ll tell him you said that.” Kinimaka grinned.

  “Um, no.” Dahl grimaced. “I’d really rather you didn’t.”

  “And Mai,” Hayden said, then paused. “Hey, was that gunfire?”

  As one, they peered back toward the plains, the running clans, the truck and the castle. Hayden saw that they were still some minutes away from engagement.

  More shots rang out. Looking up, Hayden knew they were coming from the mountain top.

  “Quickly,” Dahl said. “Fast as you can. We have to help them!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The Devil viewed this startling new development with interest from the top floor of his keep.

  Not once did I imagine they’d attack.

  He’d been planning on leaving, exiting the door of his surveillance room, when word had come in about a large force of men streaming toward the castle. At first, the Devil thought someone was playing tricks. There wasn’t a large force of men on the island; all the clans were divided.

  But then he’d started to wonder.

  He shook his head in bewilderment. All these years . . . all these years they’d fought and killed and ignored each other. They tortured each other. On occasion, three clans had watched whilst the fourth assaulted his castle, dying as they came, and they had laughed. But now . . .

  The fick
le and unpredictable quirks of men.

  He thought about the bomb ticking away below and checked the time. Five hours to go. Perhaps the clans wanted something other than his death. He found it hard to believe—he was the focal figure on the island and such an infamous killer after all—but there were other things here that might attract the clans.

  Quickly, he reviewed his plans. The job in Washington DC was already streamlined and unstoppable, just awaiting his arrival. The ships were all but loaded and ready to go. The prisoners had been given their false hope, told they would be set free very soon. His mercenaries were on standby, ready for anything.

  The problem was—if they left the castle undefended, the clans would gain entry and perhaps have a chance of sinking some ships. Any ships. Perhaps, if luck went against him, his ship.

  He identified several RPGs and many large caliber rifles among the crazy mix of weapons approaching the castle walls.

  The Devil unhooked his radio from its belt clip and thumbed the mic button. “Defend the castle,” he said. “Keep those wolves from our door. All I ask is for their total annihilation.”

  It was enough for the men in his service. There was plenty of time remaining before detonation and they would all know that. He didn’t expect mutiny, but he always prepared for it. The Devil then radioed his own ship and told its captain to be ready to depart at a moment’s notice.

  A delicious distraction now presented itself.

  It had been a long time since the Devil fought a real battle. Even the thought of it stirred the animal inside. He took a quick tour around his own private armory, tooling up not only for a battle but for the long voyage to America he would soon have to endure. He would be relatively vulnerable until they reached the newly named town of Devil’s Junction.

  For now, though, let’s see what damage the Devil can do.

  Soon, he was up on the castle walls, looking out through a crenellation, standing alongside two dozen men. The long, wide, flat plain that formed the approach to his gates fairly rumbled with the approaching force. It wasn’t the size of the attack, it was the volume and combination of weapons they brought. And the thrill he felt wasn’t just for the impending battle—it was knowing that this was the clans’ last assault, their final chance to breach the castle and kill the Devil—the instigator of all their woes.