SYLO

TWENTY-TWO

“Wake up! Get up! We’re under attack!”

I ran through the camp screaming like a lunatic, trying to roust the dozens of people who were sleeping peacefully, totally unaware that the game was about to change. People crawled out of their tents, wiping sleep from their eyes, looking more annoyed than worried.

“Get up! Helicopters are coming this way!”

Nobody reacted. Maybe they were still asleep and didn’t trust the ravings of a guy they didn’t know. They wandered about, grumbling, rubbing their eyes and generally looking dazed. I had the odd thought that this was what it must have been like on Pearl Harbor just before all hell broke loose.

“Tucker!” Mr. Sleeper called as he crawled out of his tent. “What’s going on?”

I opened my mouth to tell him, but didn’t get the chance.

His answer came from the sky as the first helicopter swooped in low and unleashed a torrent of machine gun fire on the camp.

They hadn’t come to capture anybody. This was an all-out attack.

Nobody saw the flying beast. The camouflage cover worked both ways. What we saw instead was the sky falling and the ground torn up by two lines of bullets that raked the ground, splintering trees, tearing through tents, and sending small explosions of dirt into the air.

That woke everybody up.

Some people went for their shotguns. Others turned and fled into the scrub. Still others crawled out of their tents with looks of shock, as if the reality was too much to comprehend.

I hit the ground but didn’t know why until I realized that Mr. Sleeper had grabbed me and thrown me down while shielding me with his body.

“Get Tori,” he said. “Go for the boats.”

I jumped up and started running for the big tent just as the next helicopter made its attack run. I hit the ground on my own this time, grabbing my head for protection—not that that would have helped against a white-hot bullet. The stream of bullets strafed the camp, pulverizing the plastic coolers, blowing them into the air with a shattering barrage. This time people were hit. I saw a guy running through the center of the camp, headed for his shotgun. He didn’t make it. At least one and probably more bullets hit him, dropping him instantly. A red cloud that seemed strangely pretty erupted from his back. My mind wouldn’t accept it for what it really was. The poor guy hit the ground and didn’t move.

“Go!” Mr. Sleeper yelled to me.

I scrambled to my feet and sprinted for the big tent.

Inside, Kent was just starting to wake up. Fool.

“What’s all the noise?” he asked, groggy.

“Get up!” I shouted. “We’re under attack.”

“Attack?” he repeated dumbly as if it didn’t register. “By who?”

“Where’s Tori?”

“Here!” she called.

Tori was huddled under one of the picnic tables with Olivia, who looked like a deer caught in the headlights with wide, frightened eyes.

“New plan,” I said, breathless. “We’re going for the boats now.”

“I knew it,” Tori said angrily. “That’s why we escaped so easily. They let us go.”

Kent crawled over and scrambled under the table.

“No way,” he argued. “My plan worked perfectly.”

“Because there weren’t any guards around, you idiot!” Tori screamed. “They knew exactly what we were doing. We were set up. They followed us here.”

Her words stunned me, but made total sense.

“Kent?” Olivia cried with confusion. “Are we going to be okay?”

Kent didn’t get the chance to answer as another strafing run hit the camp. The pounding sound of the helicopter flying low over the trees was broken up by the nasty chatter of its guns. I jumped under the table just as the surface was hit, sending splinters of plastic all over the tent.

Olivia screamed. Kent did too.

I grabbed Tori and held my breath, bracing against the pain I expected to jolt me at any second. But the strafing run ended and I was still in one piece.

“Anybody hit?” I asked.

I was answered with wild, frightened gazes.

“We gotta go,” I declared.

“No,” Olivia cried, shaking her head like a petulant two-year-old. “I’m not moving.”

I grabbed her and stuck my nose right in her face.

“That’s your call,” I said. “But if they keep pounding the camp, this might not be the safest place to be.”

She was on the verge of hysteria but she had enough sense to understand that staying could mean death.

“Okay,” she said, nodding quickly. “I’ll go.”

I pushed her toward Kent and said, “Watch out for her.”

“Seriously?” Kent snarled. “Who’s gonna watch out for me?”

I don’t think I could have hated Kent any more than I did in that moment.

“I gotta find Dad,” Tori said as she crawled out from under the table.

“No,” I said, grabbing her arm. “He’s okay. He told me to get you and head for the boats.”

A helicopter roared over. Olivia grabbed her head and screamed again as Tori and I dove beneath what was left of the table. This time the helicopter didn’t unload.

“They’re just messing with us now,” I said.

“They’re doing a good job,” Kent whined.

“I can’t believe this is a mass execution,” I said. “They’re going to land and try to round us up. Our best bet is to get lost in the trees and bushwack out.”

Nobody disagreed. They needed guidance and mine was as good as any.

“Then let’s go,” Tori shouted.

We headed out of the tent to witness total chaos. Many people had shotguns pointed to the sky at…what? Sunlight streamed through the bullet holes in the camouflage, making it look like a giant spaghetti colander. At that moment I was more worried about getting shot by a trigger-happy friend than by SYLO. There were a few people down and hurt, or worse. Others huddled together, staring up, waiting for the next attack.

“This way,” I said and started for the trees on the north end of the camp.

Tori didn’t follow. She stood still, staring at something.

“C’mon!” I yelled.

She took off in the other direction.

“Let her go,” Kent demanded.

There was no chance of that.

“Tori? What are you—”

I saw where she was headed. Lying in the dirt on his back, unmoving, was her father. She ran to him and fell to her knees. I hurried up behind her to see that he was alive, but barely. His eyes were vacant and dreamy. His mouth hung open and, worst of all, a thick pool of blood was growing under his back. Tori lifted his head and put it on her knees.

“Dad?” she said, holding back tears. “How bad is it?”

Her father focused on her. Surprisingly, he smiled.

“Not bad,” he said in a weak whisper. “But I won’t be paying Granger a visit tonight.”

“We’ll get help,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’ll stay with you until the soldiers get here and—”

“No,” he said and grabbed Tori’s hand. “Go. Now. While there’s still a chance.”

“I won’t leave you,” Tori argued. She was losing the battle to keep from crying.

“You have to,” Mr. Sleeper said and winced. The guy was in serious pain.

“Don’t move,” Tori pleaded.

“I lied, Tickle,” he said. “I’m hurt. Bad. You staying here won’t change that.”

“I’m not leaving,” Tori argued as she stroked his hair. “Not until we get help.”

“If you wait for me to get help, then they’ve got you,” her father said with as much urgency as he could offer. “We’d both be done and then this was all for nothing.”

A voice came booming at us from a loudspeaker that was somewhere outside of the campground.

“Attention in the camp,” the voice called. “Place your weapons together in plain sight. We will discontinue the attack so long as there is no resistance. At the first sign of aggression, we will resume the strafing. Do not make the mistake of underestimating our resolve.”

The voice belonged to Granger. There was one thing I could say for that guy: He did his own dirty work.

“There you go,” Mr. Sleeper said. “You’ve got a window. Please, please use it.”

Tori tried to say something but it caught in her throat.

“I couldn’t be any more proud of you, sweetheart,” Mr. Sleeper said. “I know it’s been rough for us but you’ve been strong and smart and I couldn’t have made it through without you. You’ve always taken care of me but now it’s time to take care of yourself.”

“I can’t,” Tori sobbed.

“Yes, you can. I know you can. Go. Get to the mainland and put a stop to this nonsense. I’m counting on you.”

Tori leaned over and hugged her father tight.

“I love you, Daddy,” she said softly.

“I love you, Tickle,” he said. “You’ve always made me proud. Don’t stop now.”

Tori nodded, gave him one last hug, then gently rested his head back down.

“Goodbye, Daddy,” she said and backed away.

Her father didn’t respond. I don’t think he could bring himself to say those same words.

As Tori retreated, I knelt down next to Mr. Sleeper and said, “I’ll watch out for her.”

He smiled and gave a little chuckle. “I think she’ll be the one looking out for you.”

His chuckle turned into a cough. Pain creased his face. His eyes went wide and then blank. In that brief instant I saw the spark of life leave Michael Sleeper.

I steeled myself, stood up, and went right to Tori, blocking her view.

“I think he’s going to be okay,” I lied. “They’ll take him to the hospital in the SYLO compound.”

Tori nodded. I wasn’t sure if she believed me or not.

Granger’s voice returned, sounding closer this time. “We will allow two minutes for you to surrender your weapons. Our forces have gathered and will enter the camp after that. They are armed and have been ordered to shoot at the first sign of aggression.”

Tori looked me right in the eye and declared, “We’re getting out.”

Glancing around the camp, I saw that most of the people were cooperating with Granger’s demands. Men and women gathered toward the center of the camp and dropped their various rifles and pistols in a pile. Most of those who were cooperating I recognized as longtime islanders. It seemed to be the off-islanders who were the most reluctant to give up.

“If we’re going, it better be now,” Kent said.

I scanned the camp, looking for what I thought would be the best route out. I chose a spot where the scrub was dense and would provide us with some cover.

“C’mon,” I said and ran for the trees.

Tori, Kent, and Olivia were right behind me. I dove into the thick brush, shoving aside the tangle of branches that blocked our way. Olivia was not dressed for this kind of adventure. The branches had to be tearing her legs up. But to her credit, she kept moving. Fear helps you do some crazy things.

“This is horrible,” she complained. “We should take one of the trails.”

“Sure,” I said. “And meet a team of soldiers coming in from the other direction.”

She stopped complaining.

We had only gotten a few yards into the brush when a gunshot sounded.

“Down!” I commanded.

Everyone dropped without question. I looked back to see that the two minutes were up. SYLO soldiers poured into the camp from three different trails. Unlike the guards back at the compound, these guys were dressed for battle, complete with deep red helmets and flak jackets. They also carried automatic rifles. This was a full-on combat unit. It struck me as overkill. The “rogues” were nothing more than a collection of pissed-off civilians. I’d bet most of them had never fired a gun at a target, let alone another human being.

The soldiers moved quickly and efficiently. They surrounded the people in the clearing, forming a circle around the perimeter of the camp. The frightened people huddled together, making sure to stay away from the pile of weapons so there would be no question that they had given up.

The last to arrive in the camp was Granger. He too was dressed for combat but didn’t carry a weapon or wear a helmet. He strode around the frightened prisoners, making a full circle to inspect them all. He stopped over the body of Mr. Sleeper and nudged it with his foot.

Tori dropped her head.

If she hadn’t known that her father was dead before, she knew it then.

“Is this Sleeper?” he asked anybody who would answer.

A few of the prisoners nodded or mumbled that it was indeed their leader. I thought back to when Granger interrogated me about our failed escape. He was asking questions about Mr. Sleeper and the boats and how it was planned. He knew Mr. Sleeper was involved with this group and wanted to know if I was too.

Granger put his hands on his hips and glared at the prisoners.

“Make no mistake,” he announced coldly. “This is far from over. Do not underestimate our resolve. We will fight. There will be no surrender. No compromise. No negotiation. You have chosen the wrong road and you will pay for it.”

Tori and I exchanged puzzled looks. Granger’s speech wasn’t making sense. It almost sounded as if he were the one on the defensive.

Granger continued, “I understand that not all of you are aggres-sors. Rest assured that we will separate the wheat from the chaff. Until then, you are all considered enemy combatants. You will be treated humanely, that I promise, though it is more than most of you deserve. Transport vehicles are waiting on the far end of the bridge that will take you to the SYLO compound. You will march in an orderly fashion, single file. Do not step out of line or you will be shot.”

Not exactly my idea of humane treatment.

“And may the Almighty have mercy on your wretched souls,” Granger added.

Granger waved his arm and the soldiers sprang into action, forcing the people to put their hands on their heads while funneling them into a line.

I wanted to keep going but I was afraid that any little movement might be spotted by a soldier. Precious time was ticking away. For all I knew there were SYLO soldiers swarming all over Chinicook and we had no chance of making it to the bay that held the speedboats. But until the camp was cleared, we had no choice but to wait it out.

The prisoners were marched out of the clearing and the dead were carried out.

Tori looked away when the soldiers lifted her father’s lifeless body. I reached out and squeezed her arm. She closed her eyes and let the silent tears fall.

Soon the camp was empty except for Granger and two soldiers. Granger scanned the space, looking beyond the camp and into the woods. I held my breath, for whatever good that might do.

“Where are those children?” Granger asked one of the soldiers. “Sleeper’s daughter and the Pierce kid?”

“We haven’t seen them since they crossed the bridge early this morning,” the soldier replied.

That confirmed it. We had been allowed to escape so they could follow us. We had led SYLO directly to the only people who had a chance of stopping them.

“They can’t get off the island, sir,” the soldier added. “The bridge is secure.”

Granger nodded, thinking.

Hearing those words gave me hope. They didn’t know about the speedboats that had been waiting to take Granger to the mainland. There was still a chance.

“Smoke ’em out,” Granger said. “Burn it down. All of it.”

No sooner did he give that command than he strode from the clearing and was passed by another soldier on his way in. This guy had a steel tank on his back and held a nozzle that was connected to the tank by a hose.

“Uh-oh,” I whispered. “Is that—”

With a loud woof, a jet of flame shot from the nozzle.

“Yup,” Kent answered.

The flamethrower sent out a monstrous line of fire that had to be at least ten feet long. The soldier strolled casually through the campground, sweeping the flame about, turning the place into an instant inferno.

“Move!” I commanded and jumped forward, hacking my way through the dense brush an instant before the soldier swept the flame in our direction and turned the dry scrub behind us into a wall of fire. There was no way to know how far we would have to fight through the tangle before breaking out into the open.

“Tucker?” Olivia called nervously. “It’s getting hot.”

I turned and was shocked to see the fire was spreading quickly.

“Keep moving,” I said.

“Pick up the pace, Rook,” Kent called. “Or we’ll roast in here.”

I tried to move faster but the tangle of growth was relentless. The very same thick foliage that was keeping us from being seen was also preventing a quick escape.

“How much further?” Tori asked.

“I don’t know,” was my honest answer. “But the longer it takes, the closer we’ll get to the bay.”

“Or burn trying,” Kent added.

There was nothing we could do but keep moving and hope we were faster than the fire. I felt the heat at my back, which made me fear we were losing the race. I realized that we were no longer running from Granger—we were escaping from the fire.

“We’ve gotta get outta here,” Tori warned.

I looked to either side but couldn’t tell which way was the most direct route to safety. Going north would take us to the bay, so I kept leading us in that direction. My hands were crisscrossed with bloody slashes from pushing aside the branches, and I got whacked in the face more times that I could count. I didn’t want to see how badly Olivia’s legs had been cut. But she didn’t complain. I guess having fire nipping at your heels makes a few cuts seem trivial.

Finally, with the flames growing so close that I feared my sweatshirt would combust, we reached the edge of the scrub. I held up my hand to stop the others but with the fire so close it was a waste of energy. Nobody stopped and we all quickly leaped out of the thicket and onto a stretch of sea grass.

“Damn,” was my first reaction.

There was still a stretch of at least a hundred yards between us and what looked to be the edge of a bluff that surrounded the bay.

“What do you think?” Kent asked.

“Don’t think,” Tori said. “Run.”

She took off at a dead sprint. I was right after her and the others followed. There was nothing strategic about it. We needed to get to the bay before the SYLO soldiers thought to look for us this far north. A second one way or the other could mean the difference between escape and death. I kept glancing back, fearing that I would see a helicopter headed our way or soldiers sprinting around the perimiter of what had become a monstrous fire. Chinicook Island would soon be nothing but a charred ember.

Kent picked up the pace and ran up alongside me.

“You sure we’re going the right way?” he asked, gulping air.

“We’ll know soon enough,” I replied.

We made it to the edge of the bluff, where we could look down on the crescent-shaped bay that was cut into the northernmost shore of Chinicook. It was a long way down to the water.

“Where are the boats?” Olivia asked frantically. “I don’t see any boats.”

“They wouldn’t be out in the open,” I said. “Or they would have been spotted.”

“So then where are they?” Kent demanded to know. “This isn’t the right spot.”

“Yes, it is,” Tori said. “Look.”

She pointed down to the right, where we saw several people hurrying down a winding switchback trail, headed for the water.

“They have the same idea,” she said.

“There’s the trailhead,” I exclaimed and ran twenty yards along the bluff’s edge until we hit the narrow spit of sand that marked the beginning of the trail.

The path was steep and the footing was bad. One slip and it would be a very long drop to the rocky beach below.

“I’m wearing flip-flops!” Olivia complained.

“Take ’em off!” I yelled back.

I don’t know if she did it or not, but she kept moving.

We had gotten about halfway down to the water when I heard someone yell, “Tucker!”

I stopped and looked back up to see Mr. Feit standing on the edge of the bluff. I had almost forgotten about the guy.

He started running for the trailhead and shouted, “I’m coming with you!”

“No, he’s not,” Kent growled. “Keep moving.”

For once I agreed with Kent. I was about to continue moving when we heard a sharp crack. It was a rifle shot. SYLO had caught up.

I looked back up to see that Feit wasn’t running anymore. He wasn’t moving at all. He just stood on the edge of the bluff as if admiring the view.

“What is he doing?” Olivia asked.

The answer came quickly. Feit’s knees buckled and he fell. Not to the ground—over the cliff. It was a grisly sight that I couldn’t take my eyes off as he bounced from rock to rock, each impact changing his direction, spinning his body, until he landed with a huge splash in the bay.

Just like that, the pusher who had brought the Ruby into our lives was gone.

“I hope to God he was dead before that fall,” Tori said.

“I hope he wasn’t,” Kent snarled. “He deserved to feel all of that.”

The shock of witnessing Feit’s gruesome death momentarily made me forget why it had happened. SYLO was closing in.

“Let’s move,” I ordered and continued the treacherous journey down the narrow path.

There was no way to know how close the shot came from. Was it long-range sniper fire? Or would SYLO soldiers be peering over the edge at any second and take aim at us? When we hit bottom, we found ourselves on a narrow, rocky beach with gentle waves lapping onto the shore. The curve of the bay knocked down the biggest waves, making it a cove that was just right for landing a small boat. Or hiding several.

“Where are they?” Kent asked anxiously.

We all looked up and down the coast, searching for the people who had gotten there before us.

“It’s like they just disappeared,” Olivia cried. “Did we really see them?”

I ignored her. But I didn’t know where the boats were, either—until the loud rumbling of an engine firing to life told us that we were in the right place.

“Where the hell is it?” Kent asked.

The sound intensified. The engine was throttling up.

“There!” Olivia shouted, pointing.

A sleek cigarette boat blasted out from behind a rock outcropping that had been shielding our view. The monster boat was at full throttle, headed out to sea. On board were four people I didn’t recognize. The sight reminded me of the boat Tori and I had witnessed being blasted out of the water.

“You can’t outrun the Navy like that,” Tori said. “If we’re going to make it, we have to be smart.”

“Lead on, Captain,” I said.

We took off running along the beach and quickly climbed up and over the rock outcropping. Beyond it, the bay curved back toward the bluff where a cave was cut into the steep rock wall that was large enough to accommodate several boats. All the craft were hidden in the shadows but I could see them lined up side by side, waiting. Without a word we scrambled over the rocks and splashed through the waist-deep water until we reached the mouth of the cave.

“That one,” Kent said, pointing to the largest of the set. “That’ll fly.”

“No,” Tori said with authority as she sized up the rest. “I told you, we can’t outrun them. We have to be able to maneuver, and that thing looks like a pig.”

“A fast pig,” Kent argued.

“Sure, if we were taking a single heading,” Tori shot back. “We’re going to need more options.”

“Listen to her, Kent,” Olivia said. “She’s, like…a boat person.”

Tori made a quick appraisal of the small fleet and said, “That one.”

Without waiting for anybody’s approval, she hurried for the chosen boat. It was on the far right end, which made it easier to access. I have to admit that I wasn’t so sure about her choice at first. It was a V-hull open-deck sport boat, about thirty-seven feet long with a center console and two padded pilot seats. There weren’t any bells and whistles. All the boats were simple craft that were built for performance, not comfort. Mr. Sleeper and his rogues must have scoured the island until they found the five fastest boats on Pemberwick. Tori’s choice looked like it could maneuver well enough, but at first glance it didn’t look to have the same horsepower as the other, bigger craft.

That is, until we climbed on board.

“Wow,” Kent said. “Never saw a rig like that.”

The boat was powered by four identical 250-horsepower Mercury engines. Any one of them would have provided enough horsepower to make the boat fly. I couldn’t imagine what they would do together.

“You say we can’t outrun the Navy,” I said. “But this gives us a shot.”

Tori was focused on the console, familiarizing herself with the controls.

“That’s not why I picked it,” she said. “I want to maneuver.”

“Can we go now?” Olivia asked.

“Cast off the line,” Tori commanded.

I jumped to the stern to see that all the boats were anchored to a spot deep within the cave. I cast off the line and tossed it to shore.

“Clear,” I announced. “It’s deep enough to turn the props.”

Tori fired up the first engine. Its low, throaty growl boomed through the cave and rattled my gut. She started each of the others in turn. The power these motors put out was almost scary.

“Kent, walk us out of here,” Tori commanded.

Kent went to the starboard side, reached over the rail, and walked his hands along the rail of the next boat over to move us forward.

I sat down on the stern bench and looked forward as we slowly slipped from the protection of the cave. There was nothing for me to do but go for a ride. It was a sobering moment.

This was it. Our last shot. We were going to make a run for the mainland in broad daylight. There was no halfway. No moral victory to be had. No Plan B. We were either going to make it…or die.

I felt strangely at peace, much like I had felt that morning as I watched the sun rise. The plan may have changed but the feeling that I had that morning remained true. This was the end game. It was an oddly peaceful feeling, though I knew it was the calm before the storm. The final storm. One way or another, it would soon be over.

I thought of Quinn and said, “This is the Pemberwick Run.”

“Buckle up,” Tori barked.

The boat crept into the sun, slipping out from its hiding place, purring, ready to launch. I got up and sat next to Tori, who was buckling her seat belt. What kind of boat had seat belts? It was yet another clue that we were in for a wild ride. I sat to her right and did the same. Kent and Olivia sat directly behind us on the seat that ran the width of the stern. They too buckled in.

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Kent called.

“I don’t see anybody else on board who knows more,” was Tori’s cocky reply.

I had total faith in her, and in her father’s opinion. He said that if anybody could pilot a boat through a crapstorm, it was Tori. I also put faith in Quinn’s opinion. Tori could sure as hell tie knots.

“Ready?” she asked me.

“Absolutely,” I replied.

Tori turned her baseball cap backward and hit the throttles. The engines roared, the boat lurched forward—and the crack of a rifle cut through it all. I spun around to look back at the bluff to see a SYLO sharpshooter sitting on top, with his rifle trained on us.

“They’re here!” I shouted over the roar of the engines. “That must have been the guy who got Feit.”

I looked at Tori. She was slumped over the wheel.

“Tori?” I called.

She didn’t answer.

A blossom of blood was growing on her back, soaking her shirt.