Ex-Isle by Peter Clines (electronic reader TXT) 📕

“I got the door, boss,” said Cesar. He hopped down, walked past her, and got the big door rolling on its track. She stood in the way for a few moments, then took a cautious step out into the sunlight.

St. George stepped forward. “You want a hand with that bag?”

They locked eyes. Her pupils were wide and her nostrils flared in and out with rapid breaths. He thought she was going to bolt. He could picture her pushing past Cesar and running back inside.

Then her eyes hardened. “I’m fine,” she said. “It’s just some clothes and my laptop.”

She stood there and her fingers flexed again. She bent down and grabbed the bag, then looked up at the sky. “Wow,” she said just a little too loud, “feels like ages since I got out.”

The big door closed behind her. Cesar took a few extra seconds with the chain and the padlock. Danielle took another deep breath, raised her foot, and took a step toward the truck. Then she took a second. And, after a brief pause, a third.

St. George bent and scooped up his own luggage, a bright red gym bag with a heavy shoulder strap. He straightened the pad at the top of the strap before he slung it over his shoulder. He made a point of not looking at Danielle while he did.

When he turned back, she was at the liftgate, all but gritting her teeth. It had taken her a minute to cover the five yards between the workshop and Mean Green. She met his eyes again and gave him a tiny nod.

Truman reached an arm out of the driver’s side window and banged on the door. “Come on,” he shouted. “I don’t want to be driving in the dark.”

Cesar walked past her and jumped back up into the truck. Gibbs stepped onto the liftgate with a clang of steel on steel as his foot hit. They both reached their hands down for her at the same time.

Danielle glared at them and hopped into the truck bed on her own. She stood there for a second, as if she were close to losing her balance. Then she adjusted her bag on her shoulder and turned to St. George. “You out of here?”

He nodded and tugged on the strap of his own bag. “I’m meeting Barry and Madelyn down at the southwest tower. We’re taking off from there.”

“Okay,” she said. She took another step into the back of the truck. Her shoulders relaxed a little more once the wooden sides were around her. “Have fun out there on Fantasy Island. Guess I’ll see you when you get back.”

“You will.” He pushed off the ground and rose up until he was looking down at the truck. “Cesar.”

The young man looked up. “Yeah?”

“Don’t get too comfortable. You’re getting one week with the armor. That’s it.”

The other people in the truck bed chuckled. Cesar’s face ran through a few expressions—confusion, sadness, understanding, excitement. “Yeah, we’ll see. You’re all going to be so impressed when you see how good I can—”

Danielle smacked him on the shoulder. “I’m standing right next to you, jackass.”

Taylor barked out a laugh.

Cesar’s face dropped again. “Sorry.”

Hector pushed a button, and the liftgate rose up with a whine of hydraulics. Gibbs moved to check the strapped-down components. Taylor and Gus stood in the front of the bed and looked over the cab as Mean Green rumbled into motion.

St. George gave Danielle a last wave and soared higher into the sky. He was a little over a hundred feet up when he saw the gleaming wraith hanging there. “Hey,” he said. “I thought we were meeting over at the tower.”

Zzzap turned his head from the departing truck. Oh, yeah, he said. I was just heading over that way and saw you. Figured I’d wait for you.

“You didn’t want to say good-bye to Danielle?”

Nah. He spun in the air and darted south. St. George had to lunge after him to keep up. They were all ready to go and I didn’t want to delay them any more. Besides, it’s a week, right?

“Right. Maybe less, depending on when we get back.”

Yeah. Nothing’s going to happen. His head turned to the bag slung over St. George’s shoulder. Did you remember my stuff?

“Yeah, it’s all in here.”

Even the extra socks?

“I packed everything you put out.”

Just making sure. I don’t want to get halfway there and have to turn around. What about the snacks?

“I’ve got about two dozen of those oatmeal-fruit bars for you and three bags of jerky you can fight Maddy for.”

That stuff they make in the Corner?

“Yeah.”

The wraith shuddered. Y’know, it smells good but I’m always wondering what that stuff’s made of. Does it bother you they just call it “jerky”?

“Stealth says it’s not human. I try not to think about it past that.”

Oh, jeez, said Zzzap. I never even thought of that. I was just thinking rats or possums or something.

“I’m pretty sure it’s chicken.”

And you know what chicken jerky tastes like? Soylent jerky.

“Barry?”

Yeah?

“She’s going to be fine.”

What? Oh, yeah, I know.

“Eden’s got good fences, the main building’s practically a bunker, and with the scavengers there’s going to be almost forty guards. And Cesar’s going to be in Cerberus.” St. George regretted his choice of words as soon as they slipped from his mouth.

Yeah, I know, said the gleaming wraith. Just a little worried. It’s been years since we all split up this much.

“True.”

And last time we did, I ended up stuck in a reactor core.

“But they did give you bacon first.”

True. I guess it wasn’t all bad, when you put it like that.

They soared down through the air to the southwest corner of the Big Wall. A large guard post stood at the corner, almost twenty feet up and sixteen feet square. Low, wooden walls ran around it, and half of it had a roof. There were four guards on duty. They stood as far as possible from the fifth person in the tower and tried to make