Meg didn’t like the plan at all. She thought it was the worst plan she’d ever heard. She wanted more wine, but she didn’t want to get drunk.
The plan wasn’t a bad plan at all. In fact, it was probably the only plan. What she didn’t like about it was that it involved Lane going up against Ivar Sigmarsson by herself. Meg didn’t have to be a bookie to know the odds weren’t good. They were still sitting at the table in the Pig, but not for much longer.
“I hate the plan,” Meg said again for the twentieth time.
“I know you do, but it’s the only way it’ll work,” Lane said.
“Not true. You could take me with you. We could wait for the military,” Meg said.
“Because that worked out so well last time? Look, I’m sure they’ll be back, but I’m betting it’s from the sky. With lots of bombs. This way, you and Lois will be safe.”
“And what about you?” Meg asked.
“I reckon it’s fifty-fifty,” Lane said.
Meg punched her lightly on the arm. “You’re supposed to say you’ll be fine. That’s what the hero in the movie always tells the girl.”
“Are you the girl, then? I always thought they were pretty passive. I think you’re better cast as the other hero,” Lane said and grinned.
“So smooth,” Meg said and rolled her eyes. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
The three of them, Meg, Lane, and Lois, left the Squealing Pig for the last time. This was it. They’d made their plan, and it would work. It had to work because the alternative was too much to bear.
Meg had realized how much Lane meant to her and what a fool she’d been to throw it all away. Or maybe she was being too hard on herself. Lane seemed different. Meg guessed it was the situation. This crisis had brought out the worst in Wendy, but it had shown Meg who Lane really was. And, Meg suspected, facing this nightmare had probably shown Lane her true self too. Lane had never struck Meg as being all that confident despite her bluster. But maybe Provincetown had shown her just how brave and capable she really was.
And if Lane’s true colours had finally come out, had Meg’s? She wasn’t unlike Wendy in a lot of ways. Obsessed with an idea, with work. Wendy’s had been Vikings, and Meg’s was her bar. Both of them were prepared to make huge sacrifices to get what they wanted. The only difference was Wendy was willing to sacrifice people for her dream.
Meg had been sacrificing herself. For years.
It was time for that to stop. And for her life to start with Lane. If Lane would have her. And if they made it out of this alive.
“We’re here,” Lane said quietly.
Meg was startled to realize they’d walked all the way to MacMillan Pier. “The boat should be up ahead unless Wendy got away.”
They walked a little further. Meg smelled it before she saw it. Blood mixed with salt. She put her hand on Lois’s shoulder. “Wait here just a minute, honey.”
Meg looked at Lane, and by unspoken agreement they walked further down the pier. Meg heard Lane suck in a breath when they saw it.
“You think that was Wendy?” Lane asked.
“Seems like kind of a coincidence if it’s not. Look, the bag is in Teensy’s boat.” Meg pointed to the bag they’d switched back in the bathroom.
Lane nodded. “Looks like they got her pretty bad.”
“But she got up.” Meg pointed to the bloody footprints that went a few feet down the pier before they disappeared.
“Where do you think she went?” Lane asked.
Meg shrugged. “Into the water? Maybe she was injured but managed to get away. I know I’d go into the water.”
“Either way, she’s one of them now,” Lane said.
Meg nodded. Lane started to say something again when a huge bang drowned her out. It was followed by rapid gunfire and more bangs. The steady thump of rotor blades started up overhead.
“Get Lois,” Lane said, but Meg didn’t need to be told and was already running back up the pier.
* * *
Lane zipped up Lois’s life jacket. “I’ll see you in a little while, okay?”
Lois nodded. “You’re the hero, remember? So you can’t die.”
“Yeah, I remember,” Lane said and stroked a hand over Lois’s head. She stood up and turned to face Meg. “I’ll see you then,” she said, suddenly feeling awkward.
“This doesn’t seem right. I should be going with you,” Meg said and brushed some nonexistent lint from Lane’s shoulder.
“Someone needs to stay with Lois. If anything happens to me—”
“Don’t say that.”
“But I—”
“Don’t say it, Lane.”
And then Meg kissed her. It was a hard kiss, a claiming kiss that said she belonged to Meg. Lane shut her eyes and forced herself to feel every moment of it.
Meg’s hands drifted down and squeezed her arse. Lane smiled into the kiss.
“This always was my favourite part of you,” Meg said against her lips. And then, “What’s this?”
Lane didn’t know what she was talking about. Meg’s hand pulled something out of her back pocket, and then Meg stepped back, examining the item—a card of some kind.
“Lane, what is this?” Meg asked again. She looked scared and confused.
“I don’t—” Lane started to say. Meg turned the card around.
What the actual fuck? Lane snatched the card out of her hand. It was the tarot card she’d gotten what seemed like a lifetime ago.
The card depicted a woman in shining gold armour. She held a sword in her hand and looked like she was bringing it down on a grey figure below her.
“Lane,” Meg said, “it’s you.”
And Meg was right. The woman on the card was her, but how could that be? What had the tarot reader said to her as she’d stuffed it into her hand? You might need this.
Lane didn’t have time to go into it with Meg. If the cacophony up on Commercial was anything to go by, she was quickly running out of time. She put the card back in the back pocket of her jeans. “I’ll explain later. I have to go.”
Meg nodded. “You have the map I drew?”
“Yes.” Lane nodded. She’d memorized that map back at the Pig. It was too important not to.
“And you have the treasure?” Meg asked.
“Yes, in the bag,” Lane said.
“Okay, then. Good luck. And you’d better come back to me, Lane Boyd, or I swear I’ll never forgive you.”
Instead of answering, Lane kissed Meg hard. And then she turned and jogged back up the pier. She didn’t dare look back in case she lost her nerve. The easiest thing would be to get in the boat with Lois and Meg and head for Boston. But she couldn’t do that.
Whatever this thing was that had woken up, she needed to kill it. If she didn’t, Lane had no doubt that the sickness would spread across the United States and out into the world. It needed to be stopped now.
* * *
Meg sat in the boat and listened to the battle raging out on Commercial. She’d never felt so useless in all her life. She should be out there with Lane, not hiding in a boat.
“You can go if you want. I’ll be okay,” Lois said.
She couldn’t leave her, though. Meg would never forgive herself if something happened to Lois.
“It’s okay, honey. Lane will be fine. We’ll just wait here for her,” Meg said.
Suddenly, there was a loud explosion. Meg looked up to see the helicopter in a ball of flames, hurtling towards the sea. That couldn’t be good. Meg tried not to think about where Lane was and if she’d seen it too.
“Meg, I can hide on the boat. They won’t find me. Then you can go and make sure Lane is okay,” Lois said again.
Could she, though? Was it totally irresponsible to leave Lois here alone? Probably, but then they weren’t exactly in an ideal situation. But Lane was long gone with the magic knife thing, which meant Meg would have to navigate the town alone. It was a risk, and Lane would be furious.
“Okay, get under these life jackets,” Meg said. “Don’t poke your head out for anyone, and if you see zombies coming up the pier, untie the boat. You’re better drifting on the ocean than staying here.”
Lois nodded and disappeared behind a wall of bright yellow plastic. Meg picked up the gun Wendy had thoughtfully left lying on the pier and checked the clip. Four rounds left. She hoped that would be enough to get her to Winthrop Street.