A minute later we’re off the trail and on the beach, and the woman sets the boy down on the sand. But the boy doesn’t like this, and grips fiercely at the woman’s leg, clamps himself like he’ll never let go.
The woman stares up the trail. A fireball had bloomed behind us as we hurried down to the beach, and now black smoke fills the night sky.
She says, “You blew it up.”
I nod, surveying the empty beach.
“Why?”
I look at her but say nothing.
The woman stares back at me, completely stunned. In the moonlight I now see she has a pretty face but her hair is disheveled. She wears no jewelry—no earrings, no necklace, nothing on her fingers. Her place of employment—probably the only thing helping to make ends meet—has just been destroyed and she’s trying to wrap her mind around the reason why.
Both children hold onto her, each taking a leg. The girl has stopped sobbing—maybe she’s run out of tears—but the boy still hasn’t let up.
I motion past them, up the beach.
“Let’s go.”
The woman’s eyes go hard.
“We are not going anywhere with you.”
“Fine. I’d just wanted you away from the blast anyway. I don’t give a shit where you go.”
This isn’t quite true—my heart aches at the thought of leaving the children behind—but the simple fact is I can’t waste any time. Those reinforcements had come pretty quick, and there’s no telling how long before more reinforcements arrive. I’ve used up almost all of my ammo, and besides, I no longer have Atticus in the sky keeping an eye out for surprises. Right now it’s just me, and if I want to stay alive, I have to move.
I step past the woman and the children and start up the beach. I’ve only gone ten paces when the woman calls out.
“Wait.”
I turn back.
The woman says, “Where are you going?”
“I’m leaving.”
“But where?”
Desperation tinges her words. It’s not complete desperation yet, but it’s getting there.
“Up past those rocks and trees is a boat. I’m going to take that boat and head a couple miles up the coast.”
I pause, waiting to see what she’ll say to this.
She doesn’t say anything and just stands there, watching me.
I say, “I don’t have time to mess around. I need to leave.”
“Can I—”
She pauses, swallows.
“Can we come with you?”
Atticus says, “I don’t advise this, Holly.”
“I’ll call you back in a bit.”
I pull the transmitter from my ear and flick the switch to turn it off.
“I can take you a couple miles up the coast, but that’s it.”
The woman stares at me. She doesn’t speak. Doesn’t look like she has any words yet. Maybe shock is starting to set in. If that’s the case, there’s no way I can leave her alone with the children.
“Hey.”
I clap my hands to get her attention.
“Did you hear me?”
She blinks, looks at me again as if seeing me for the first time.
She asks, “How far up the coast?”
“A couple miles. But we need to leave now.”
The woman still doesn’t look convinced.
I say, “If you come with me now, I promise to keep you and the children safe.”
It’s not quite a hollow promise, but it’s not exactly a sincere promise either. I don’t want to leave the children here, but I also can’t stay here much longer. If promising the woman their safety is what it takes to get them moving, then so be it.
The woman takes another moment to process this, then nods and looks down at the children. She scoops the boy up again, grips the girl’s arm, and starts toward me.
I hold up a hand to stop her.
“What’s your name?”
“My name?”
“Yes, your name.”
She takes a moment to think about, like she doesn’t remember her own name.
“Maria.”
“And the children?”
“This is Jorge and Ana.”
“Well, Maria, the boat we’re about to get on is a boat you’ve never been on before. It’s very important that you secure yourself and the children so that they don’t fall out.”
Her eyes widen at this.
“We might … fall out?”
“If you don’t hold on, yes.”
I turn and start toward the trees and rocks when Maria speaks again.
“What is your name?”
I shake my head.
“You don’t want to know my name.”
“Why not?”
“The less you know about me, the better.”
I lead them past the private section of the beach, past the trees and rocks, and two minutes later we enter another small clearing. The Combat Rubber Raiding Craft is right where I left it.
The CRRC is a specially fabricated rubber inflatable boat often used by Navy SEALs and Marines. There’s no outward protection, so it’s mostly used for night missions.
I drag the CRRC to the edge of the water and help Maria and the children into the boat. Maria uses some of the ropes to strap herself and the children in.
I push the boat farther out until the water gets up to my waist, and then I crawl onto the boat and position myself near the back by the outboard motor.
“Hold on.”
I pull the cord to get the motor going, and steer us out deeper into the darkness.