Finally, Lara’s voice cut through all the jokes that were still going back and forth. “Blaine, come in.”
“Read you loud and clear,” Blaine answered.
“Is he there with you?”
The “he” in question was Gage, the boat captain.
“In front of me now,” Blaine said.
“Is he listening?” Lara asked.
“He’s listening…”
“Good. If he does something you don’t like — if it even looks like he might be thinking about doing something you won’t like — I want you to put a bullet in his other kneecap.”
“I hear you loud and clear.” There was, Keo thought, almost giddiness in Blaine’s voice when he answered.
No one likes you, Gage. That’s what happens when you go around marauding at the end of the world, dipshit.
“All right, it’s time for you guys to go,” Lara said.
“Roger that,” Blaine said. “We’ll see you when we see you.”
The Trident came alive, its whisper-quiet engine and 1,400 horsepower starting as a low whine before rising in volume. A moment later, its anchor rose out of the water like a metal serpent.
Keo hoped for their sake that whatever eyes the enemy had along the shorelines at the moment couldn’t make out the boat against the now-darkened island despite the white paint. The fact that the luxury yacht had powered up without turning on any of its lights would help to keep it invisible from a distance.
The large vessel began moving, turning and sending waves crashing against the beach as it did so.
“Thar she goes,” Danny said.
“How’s he doing that without lights?” Gaby asked.
“I guess that’s how he earned his captain’s hat. The rest of us have to parallel park, but they have to navigate by total darkness.”
“Are you just making that up?” Carly asked.
“Pretty much,” Danny said.
Keo held the night-vision goggles up to his eyes in order to see the vessel more clearly. It was cautiously moving away from the island, the water under it churning, before it turned completely around with all the speed of a bloated metal whale. For a one-legged marauding asshole with no redeeming values, Gage was a hell of a boat captain, because the man was doing all of this without the benefit of a single spotlight on or off the vessel.
“He’s wearing night-vision goggles,” Lara said through the comm. “That’s how he’s able to pilot in the dark.”
“I guess he’s not that special after all,” Danny said.
Keo could just make out Bonnie, the leggy ex-model, moving along the side of the main deck on the Trident. There was a third figure on the lower deck, but she had ducked inside as soon as the boat started moving. Probably Gwen, the short one with the impressive rack. He had yet to memorize everyone by name, and a part of him didn’t want to know.
A click in his ear, and Gaby’s voice. “Can’t they still see the boat from shore?”
“Can you see it without your night vision?” Lara asked.
“Let me see…” A brief pause, then, “Barely.”
“And you’re closer. If we’re lucky, they won’t be able to see it from the shorelines even with night vision.”
‘If we’re lucky,’ Keo thought with a slight smile. If you’re lucky, someone will survive tonight. If you’re unlucky, everyone will be dead, including me.
Which sucks for all of us, but especially me.
“We should have painted the whole thing black,” Danny was saying.
“There was no time,” Lara said.
The Trident was turning, before disappearing completely around the western corner of the island. He could still hear the engine, but it was already fading.
“Seven-thirty,” Lara said in his right ear. “If they’re coming, it’s going to be soon. Everyone buckle down for the night. No one goes anywhere unless I give the order.”
“Sheesh, who died and made her boss?” Danny asked.
“Everyone,” Carly said.
Eight o’clock came and went, and nothing happened.
The chatter over the radio had since died down, with only the occasional updates between Lara and the others spread out across the island. Or, in the case of Blaine, off-island. Everyone who didn’t have a gun and wasn’t in position to shoot something had been given explicit instructions not to break into the radio channel unless absolutely necessary. Much to his surprise, they were actually obeying protocol. Keo wasn’t used to civilians having that kind of discipline, but then he had to remind himself that everyone here had survived the end of the world. That, he guessed, took more than just dumb blind luck.
“Nate, come in,” Lara said around 8:17 P.M.
“Nate here.”
The kid who had just arrived on the island with Gaby and Danny was patrolling the northern cliffs, with Carrie and Jo (or was it one of the other girls?) moving around in the same general vicinity. The beach was the obvious target — it was wide and easily accessible — which was why he and two others equipped with night vision were watching it. But there was a chance the collaborators might risk scaling the cliffs, the way they had the last time the island came under attack.
“Anything on your end?” Lara asked.
“Nothing so far,” Nate said. Keo could hear a slight wind in the background from Nate’s side. He guessed the kid was very close to the cliff.
“Stay sharp, everyone.”
“Will do,” Nate said.
The other two women echoed him a second apart. He still couldn’t tell if one of them was Jo.
“Danny,” Lara said.
“Yes, milady,” Danny said.
“How’s it going down there?”
“No complaints. It’s a real beach.”
“Nice,” Gaby said.
“Thanks, kid.”
“Stay sharp,” Lara said.
“Don’t worry,” Danny said. “I’m so sharp they used to call me Danny The Really Sharp Guy back in college.”
“And what college would that be?” someone asked.
“Ah, man,” Danny groaned.
Nine o’clock came and went.
Then ten…
Click. “Maybe they’re not coming after all,” Carly said in his ear.
“Babe, I’m Captain Optimism here, remember?” Danny said. “I just wrestled the title back from Kazaam over there.”
“Who?”
“Kazaam.”
“I don’t know who that is,” Carly said.
“Shaquille O’Neal?”
“Okay, now you’re just making it worse.”
“Nineties movie. Shaquille O’Neal played a genie named Kazaam.”
There was silence over the radio.
“You know who I’m talking about, don’t you, Kablooey?” Danny asked.
“I don’t watch a lot of movies, sorry,” Keo said.
“Ah, you guys suck. Remind me never to invite any of you over to movie night.”
“Promise?” Gaby said.
“That hurts. That really, really hurts.”
“Hey, if you can’t take the heat,” Gaby started to say, when she stopped and said instead, “Danny.”
“I see it,” Danny said. “Karaoke, your ten o’clock.”
Keo had no trouble making them out against the green phosphor of the night-vision goggles he had put on an hour ago. Lara had given him a first-generation device, which was not nearly as bright or clear as the third-generation he was used to working with back in his old job. It was good enough, though, to let him spot the bright circles of light — at least a dozen of them — moving in their direction.