Drake decided that silence was the best policy on his part. He didn’t have the right to quiz Melody, and he felt uncomfortable talking about Grace. Although he shouldn’t. Nothing had happened between them. And, as a very old and very racist saying went: They were all free, white, and twenty-one. Except that Melody believed everybody belonged to the same race and that traits like color were a miniscule variation because of the latitude where one’s ancestors had lived. In addition, Grace wasn’t just white but a mixture. A mixture of latitudes. So what did that make her? Perhaps anything she wanted to be.
Drake reminded himself to quit following wisps of ideas that avoided the issue and net out what was important. Again. He had a habit of doing that. He had some sort of feeling for Grace, probably not wholesome, and he didn’t want to discuss it with Melody. He was disturbed that Melody went out without telling him, but she didn’t answer to him. So there. End of thought process. He chuckled.
“What are you laughing about?”
Drake’s muscles contracted in a startle reflex as Melody’s question brought him back to the present.
“I was just thinking that these houses are so close to the water that a tsunami from an earthquake like the one in Alaska in nineteen sixty-four would wash them all out to sea. That one uprooted redwood trees.”
“That helicopter is flying awfully low.”
Drake glanced up as the chopper went past them heading east along the line of the beach. He turned his head to follow its flight and could just barely make out Harrison and Danny who were trailing the pack of runners today. Danny had complained that his knee hurt, and Fred had sent him to a doctor who had taken x-rays and recommended that he not run for a while.
That wasn’t an option, of course, and Danny was struggling to stay in the race. Drake wondered whether he and Harrison would be the first team to drop out. Knee problems could be serious, and they were usually not curable overnight.
The rest of the runners were within fifty yards of each other. Yesterday, Drake and Melody had finished within a couple of minutes of the four leading teams.
“We have to figure out how we can gain on Tom and Jerry. Maybe we should try to break away from the pack.”
Melody looked sideways at Drake. “You know how that would end. Try not to worry about my mum. Something will turn up.”
“I’ll call Blade tonight to see if he’s found out anything on the prints.”
“Better give him a few more days.”
“Fred has got to be part of this. I’m going to put him on the rack-”
“Not yet.”
Melody was trying to keep him calm, even though she had more to lose.
The explosion behind them rocked Drake. He caught his balance and turned around in time to see black smoke rising from a beach house and several objects arcing their way toward the smoke from the ocean. His military experience immediately told him that they were shells of some sort.
Even as disbelief filled his mind, the shells hit houses in the vicinity of the one that had absorbed the first blast, sending smoke and debris into the air. Eerie silence followed. Drake glanced out to sea. He thought he saw something disappear under the waves, but he couldn’t be sure. He realized that Melody was clinging to him.
“Bloody hell!”
Her grip was so tight it hurt his arm. The other runners had stopped, also, and were looking at the smoke with their mouths open. The assault appeared to have stopped. Other than half a dozen beachgoers, they were the closest people to the destruction. Drake started running back toward the houses. Melody and the other runners followed him.
Three or four houses had been hit. Anybody who had been inside one of the houses was probably dead. Flames started to shoot up from the wreckage. Whatever the shells hadn’t already destroyed, fires would.
Melody asked the question that had just occurred to Drake. “Where are Harrison and Danny?”
“I don’t see them. They must have been close to those houses.”
The smoke, which had initially surged straight up, was being carried away from them by the prevailing wind. Drake could see the beach in front of the houses. Two men were lying on the sand.
“Look.” He pointed toward the men.
“That’s them. Harrison and Danny.”
Drake and Melody ran up to the pair who were lying amid debris blown from the houses. They were close enough to feel the heat from the flames. Harrison lay face down with his arms and legs spread out at grotesque angles. He had been hit by a large chunk of concrete. There was no way he could still be alive. But Danny was lying on his back and moving. Drake dropped to the ground beside him. His eyes were open. They looked at Drake with fear and confusion. He was in shock.
Blood gushed from a wound in his leg. Melody was already pulling her first aid kit out of her pouch. She extracted a gauze pad, placed it directly on the wound, and pressed. Stop the bleeding. That was the first rule of helping wounded soldiers.
Drake looked at the burning mansions. They were ovens. Nobody could go in there, and nobody could have survived inside them. In the distance he already heard sirens. The local fire company was on the ball. The firemen would keep the fires from spreading to other houses. The paramedics would take care of Danny and get him to a hospital. It was too late for Harrison and anyone who had been inside the houses. Drake didn’t see any other casualties on the beach. Tuesday was a workday and not a beach day. Luckily.
He had to get to someone higher in the hierarchy than the local authorities and tell them what he had seen. An older couple had come out of a house several doors from the conflagration. The man and wife watched in horror. Drake would use their phone to call Blade in Washington. In a few words he told Melody what he was going to do. She nodded and gave a terse response, indicating that she would take care of Danny until help arrived.
Drake rose and became aware of the other runners clustered around them. Phil and Brian had tried to assist Harrison and were shaking their heads in horror.
Drake said, “Danny’s going to be all right.”
As he headed for the house and a phone, he hoped he had spoken the truth.
“Harrison’s body is being returned to his parents in Riverside. I’ve talked to them and expressed our condolences. I know how badly you all feel. We’ll take tomorrow off in his memory and hold our own memorial service.”
“So you’re not going to cancel the run?” The question came from Aki.
Casey looked surprised. “We definitely want to continue the run. I visited Danny in the hospital. He wants us to continue as a tribute to Harrison. I think it’s important that we continue.”
“How is Danny doing?”
“A couple of days in the hospital and Danny’s leg will be fine. He lost some blood, but Melody’s quick action prevented him from losing more. He’ll be running again in a few weeks.”
Casey smiled at Melody who was sitting beside Drake in a conference room of the motel. All the remaining runners were there, as well as Fred, Peaches, and Grace. Casey had magically appeared at the motel that afternoon, saying that he had been in the L.A. area on business.
Winthrop raised his hand, and Casey recognized him.
“Isn’t there some…danger to us? Couldn’t there be another…attack or whatever it was?”
Nobody seemed to know what had happened. Drake hadn’t told anybody except Melody and Blade what he had seen. Apparently the others hadn’t seen the shells in flight and possibly a boat like a submarine. He didn’t plan to say anything until he had spoken to the military personnel who were converging on the spot. Coast Guard helicopters were already making flyovers of the Malibu area. He also suspected that naval vessels were cruising up from San Diego.
Casey spoke, carefully choosing his words. “I don’t think there’s any danger. If I did, I wouldn’t allow the run to continue. Although we don’t know what happened, we can be sure that the authorities are looking into it. As an incentive for the remaining nine teams to continue, Giganticorp will pay you a per diem of a thousand dollars a team, payable when you complete the race.”