The big guy, Blaine, was maneuvering them toward the shoreline. His target was a spot about half a kilometer up the road from a burnt out marina and what looked like the blackened foundations of a fire-gutted house.
“Coming up,” Blaine announced.
Keo freed his MP5SD and moved from his seat and toward the bow, then crouched next to Bonnie. He still had the M16 with the M203 grenade launcher. It was a heavier weapon — about nine pounds loaded — than the submachine gun and felt like a baseball bat thumping against his back.
Bonnie glanced nervously at him. “You’ve done this before, right?”
“What’s that?”
“This, what you’re about to do.”
He shrugged. “First time for everything.”
She gave him a horrified look. “Are you kidding me right now? Tell me you’re just kidding me.”
He looked back at Blaine instead. “Bring her in easy. Fifty meters.”
Blaine nodded, then pulled back on the throttle. The boat slowed noticeably before continuing forward on a glide. A tall ridge and muddy banks greeted them, but no signs of another living soul anywhere. There was a long field on the other side crowded with overgrown and sun-bleached grass. That would come in handy if there was a sniper out there waiting to pick him off. If he was lucky, Blaine’s bigger form would make a more tempting target and give him the early warning he needed to retreat.
I’d shoot him first, too.
It was hot and Keo was already sweating under his T-shirt. Both Bonnie and Blaine looked similarly drenched and uncomfortable under the unrelenting heat.
“Shore’s coming up,” Blaine announced.
Keo stood up and put his submachine gun away. He waited until the boat slipped onto the muddy bank before leaping out. He grabbed a line Bonnie tossed to him and tied it around a boulder nearby. After the islanders climbed out after him, he tightened the rope and made sure it wasn’t going anywhere. The last thing he wanted was to swim back to the island. Once was enough, and he was closer last night.
He glanced at his watch: 11:13 a.m. “There and back again by five should give us a ninety-minute cushion.”
“It’s your operation,” Blaine said.
“As long as we’re on the water by the time the sun goes down,” Bonnie said. She might have involuntarily shivered when she added, “I don’t like the idea of being caught out here at night.”
Keo took point. He climbed up the ridge and went into a crouch before scanning the area. Despite the oppressive weather and lack of shade, the grass had grown three feet high from the ridgeline all the way to the road on the other side. Route 27, according to a map Lara had shown him. Blaine and Bonnie climbed up behind him.
“I don’t see it,” Keo said. “You sure this is the right spot?”
Blaine nodded. “Should be.”
“‘Should be’?”
“It’s here,” Blaine said, with just a little more conviction that time. He stood up to survey the area before crouching back down. “I see it. It’s where it should be.”
“Take the lead, then.”
Blaine picked up a car battery he had brought with him, got up, and jogged through the grass. Keo followed, Bonnie right behind him with two red plastic cans of gas in each hand. She was surprisingly strong for such a skinny beanpole.
The big man was leading them toward an old tree about thirty meters from the flat highway. As they neared it, Keo began making out a large object. Square-shaped, covered in some kind of brown tarp and repurposed grass that blended it, if not perfectly, then just enough into the surrounding field to make it mostly invisible to passing eyeballs unless you knew what you were looking for and where.
They slowed down as they reached the vehicle sitting underneath the makeshift camouflage. Blaine grabbed one side of the tarp and pulled it, revealing a black Dodge Ram that looked to be in reasonably good condition.
Blaine tossed Keo a key. “Pop the hood.”
Keo got a whiff of stale air when he opened the door. Apparently they hadn’t needed to use the Ram in a while. He leaned in and pulled the lever. “How many of these things do you guys have stashed around the lake?”
“About a half dozen,” Blaine said. He stuffed the battery back into its slot and reconnected the wires. “Most of them still have some gas left in the tanks, but we bring enough extra just to be sure.”
Behind him, Bonnie had finished pouring the two cans of gasoline into the tank. She closed it back up now and tossed the empty cans into the back, then wiped her hands on her shirt and made a face at the smell.
When Lara had told him that Blaine knew where to get a vehicle and they would need a battery for it, Keo hadn’t been convinced. But the more he got to know these people, the more he realized he was dealing with seasoned survivors and not civilians fumbling their way through the end of the world.
Most of that, he thought, was the result of good leadership. Lara, and this Will guy whom Keo hadn’t met yet. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to, either. Keo had never gotten along especially well with Army guys. His father had been proof of that, and subsequent encounters with grunts during his career with the organization had never turned out especially well. As much as he didn’t have any use for career soldiers, Keo suspected they thought the same about him and his ilk.
Blaine slammed the hood down and walked back over. “How far up the road?”
Keo did the calculations in his head, replaying snapshots of the map and where he had encountered the weekend warriors. Or collaborators, as Lara called them. “Twenty kilometers north, but since we’re on the wrong side of the lake and we’ll need to loop around the south end, add in an extra ten. Thirty kilometers, give or take.”
“How much is that in miles?” Bonnie asked.
“Just a shade over eighteen,” Keo said.
“Eighteen miles,” Blaine nodded. “As long as we don’t get held up by anything, we shouldn’t have any problems making it back down here by five, and we’ll be on the island thirty minutes later.”
“Sounds like a plan. Let them know we’re off.”
Blaine unclipped his radio and keyed it. “Song Island. Can you read me. Over.”
“Loud and clear, Blaine,” a voice answered. It was one of the women, Maddie. Song Island, Keo discovered, had a lot of very capable women. Gillian and Jordan would definitely have fit in like gangbusters.
“We’re heading off now, Maddie,” Blaine said. “Wish us luck.”
“Good luck and see you when you get back,” Maddie said.
Keo climbed into the front passenger seat while Blaine slipped in behind the wheel. Bonnie settled into the back and leaned in between the two front seats. She gave Keo a long, curious look.
“What?” he said.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” she asked.
“No, but it’ll be fun to find out.”
Bonnie sat back with a heavy sigh. “Oh God, you’re going to get me killed, aren’t you?”
“That’s the spirit,” Keo said.
You really thought it was going to be that easy, huh? Think again, pal.
They were exactly where he last saw them yesterday, gathered around the red two-story house near the shoreline. Except this time there were more vehicles and more men guarding the roads and standing along the docks. He counted almost two dozen uniforms, likely more scattered elsewhere that he couldn’t see.
The radio clipped to his hip squawked, and Blaine’s voice came through at half volume because he had lowered the volume halfway. “How’s it look up close?”
He told Blaine about what he could see and what he couldn’t.