“For now.” Then, “Maddie, I need you to prep one of the boats for Keo, like we talked about before.”
Maddie didn’t say anything for a moment. It took about five seconds, and Keo was watching her closely the entire time. Or was there something else going through his mind at the moment that she couldn’t read? She hated to admit it, but the only thing obvious on the man’s face was that long scar along the left side of his cheek. Other than that, she couldn’t read a damn thing from his expression.
“Roger that,” Maddie finally said.
“Thank you,” Lara said. “Sarah, come in.”
“Yes,” Sarah answered. She was back at the hotel with the kids, Bonnie, and the others.
“Put some supplies together for Keo. At least a month’s worth.”
“Is he leaving?” Sarah asked. It was impossible to miss the disappointment in her voice.
“Yes. I need it within the hour, okay?”
“Okay,” Sarah said.
Lara clipped the radio back to her hip.
“I could use some more weapons and ammo, too,” Keo said.
“You can take whatever you need from the basement.”
“The Army Rangers won’t mind if I raid their stash?”
“They probably will a little bit, but I won’t tell them and since you won’t be here to say otherwise…”
“Works for me. I guess all that’s left is to say good luck.”
“You too.” She shook his hand. “Thanks for everything. We couldn’t have gotten this far without you.”
“Yeah, watch yourself out there, K-Pop,” Carly said.
He smiled awkwardly back at her. If Lara thought Keo was bad at expressing his thoughts, he was even worse at saying good-bye, apparently.
She decided to take pity on him again. “I hope you find Gillian, Keo. I mean that.”
He nodded. “Thanks.”
She watched him step through the door, his footsteps clanging against the cast-iron stairs as he went down, and down… She didn’t know why, but Lara kept expecting him to pop back up through the opening and confess he wasn’t really leaving after all.
He didn’t, of course.
When they could barely hear his footsteps, she looked across at Carly. “We need to get ready for tonight.”
“Will and Danny should be back by then,” Carly said.
“I know, but we need to get everything and everyone ready anyway until they do get here. Besides, it’ll give everyone something to do, keep their minds off other things.”
“You’re the boss, boss.”
“Until then, I’ll get Stan up here with you.”
“What about Benny?”
“Keo had the right idea. He’s better out there making sure they don’t sneak up on us before nightfall. I should have thought of it myself.”
“Yeah, but Stan?” Carly said. “He’s an electrician, Lara.”
“He’s an electrician, I’m a failed medical student, and you were a teenager before all of this. We adapt or perish, remember?”
Carly sighed. “I hate it when you get all bossy.”
“Hey, you’re the one who made me boss, remember?”
“Me and my big mouth.”
Lara glanced at her watch. 11:30 A.M.
It wouldn’t be long now until Will radioed to tell them he was almost at the shoreline and for her to get a boat ready to pick him up. She would probably need to use the pontoon, because Will was coming with more than just him, Danny, and Gaby. And there were those M240 machine guns he had promised her.
In just three — maybe four — hours, she would see him again. Finally.
It’s about time, Will. You’ve kept me waiting long enough…
CHAPTER 6
WILL
They were talking amongst themselves when he woke up, and they were still chattering away when he finally summoned enough strength (A few minutes later? A few hours later?) to sit up on the dirty tiled floor. He was in some kind of back room, with the only ventilation coming from a small vent along the top wall in front of him. Except the AC had stopped working a year ago, leaving behind just unrecycled, musty air. Slivers of sunlight shined through a closed high window above him, but most of it came from the open door across the room.
His movements were limited by the zip ties around his ankles, though they were nice enough to let him have his hands folded in front of him instead of bent behind his back. He was uncomfortable, but it could have been a worse. A lot worse.
Yeah, that’s the ticket.
He was breathing, which was all that mattered. As long as he was alive, there was a way out of this. He just had to see it. Then he would be back on his way, back to Song Island. Back to Lara.
His current surroundings weren’t much to look at. The wallpapers were peeling, and debris was strewn along the floor. A pair of empty boxes sat in a corner, but the room was otherwise empty. Figures moved back and forth across the open door, and he could just make out the rest of a store beyond. He guessed he was inside one of the gas stations along Route 13. Either the Palermo or the Chevron.
His head throbbed like someone was inside his skull kicking up a ruckus. Dried blood clung to one side of his face and ran all the way down to his neck. He looked down at his waistline to make sure the nagging wound he was most worried about hadn’t resurfaced, but breathed easier at the lack of blood at that particular spot. That meant Zoe’s stitches were still holding. Good, because the last thing he needed right now was to start bleeding down there, too.
“Do you always carry thread and needle around with you?” Zoe had once asked him.
Expect the best, prepare for the worst, Zoe.
They had taken his weapons, of course. The gun belt, the pouches, the sidearm, and the sheathed knife. The Motorola radio and comm gear were also gone. When he moved his legs back and forth he didn’t hear the familiar clink-clink, so they had taken the pills, too. That, more than anything, was problematic. He was still sore from the last few days, and without the relief of the meds, it was going to be tough sledding.
They were nice enough to leave him his watch, though, and Will looked down at it now: 11:05 A.M.
Cutting it close. Lara’s going to be so pissed when I don’t show up later today as promised.
Sorry, babe, but it couldn’t be helped. I did send Danny and Gaby on ahead. At least two of us will be there for you tonight, so don’t be too mad at me.
He looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps, just before a man appeared in the doorframe. Will assumed it was a man, though he was much shorter than any soldier he had ever seen. Of course, these men weren’t actually soldiers, either, so his past experiences in Uncle Sam’s armed forces was probably irrelevant to the current situation.
Shorty leaned against the door and looked in at him. The man was casually shining a red apple against the front of his uniform and stood about five-five, but Will figured that was partially thanks to the boots. Without those, he was five-three, max. He had short black hair and dark beady eyes and a smirk that looked permanently fixed on his face. Even the sidearm appeared to be too big for him, though the uniform seemed to be tailored for his size.
They must have a sweat shop in one of the towns, cranking out these uniforms. Custom made, too. That must be nice.
“Will, right?” the man said. The name “Mason” was stenciled across his name tag. Like the others Will had seen walking by the open door in the last few minutes, Mason’s uniform had the Louisiana patch and white star in prominent locations. “How the hell are ya?”