There was a delay before Bertrand turned and looked down. If he wasn’t drunk already, he was well on the way.
“Come with me,” Robert said. “You don’t want to stay here alone.”
“Fuck you.”
“Last chance.”
Bertrand raised his glass. “Did you not hear me the first time? Let me tell you again. Fuck you.” He laughed and took a drink.
Knocking the guy out with a punch to the jaw was easy. It was dragging the asshole to the boat that Robert hoped he wouldn’t regret.
After Renee released her, Estella spent the rest of the voyage slumped against the outside wall of the bathroom, staring aimlessly out at the sea.
All she could think about was Robert. What had happened? Why hadn’t he shown up? Why couldn’t the boat have waited a little bit longer?
She hadn’t known Robert for a long time, and they had only become close within the last week. But the intensity of the new world they found themselves in made those few days feel like so much more.
She didn’t even realize they were nearing shore until the rumble of the engine revved down to a low growl. Commands were shouted across the deck as the ferry slowed and then gently bumped against the dock.
While the boat emptied, Estella remained where she was.
As the last few passengers were trickling off, someone touched her arm. “Let me help you.”
Renee was hovering beside her, holding out a hand.
Estella wanted to stay on the deck, but before she could say this, Renee grabbed her arm and gently but firmly lifted her to her feet. Renee then guided Estella off the boat to where the others had gathered.
Pax arrived a few moments later.
“All right,” he said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. “I only had time to get one bus yesterday, so if we crowd in we can do this in two trips.”
“Couldn’t we find another one?” someone asked.
“Won’t save any time. Airport’s not that far away.” Pax paused. “Let’s divide right down the middle. Group closest to me, you’ll go first.”
“Let’s get you in the first group,” Renee whispered to Estella.
“No,” Estella said. “Please. Not yet.”
Renee frowned but didn’t push.
It took twenty minutes for Pax to return after taking the first group to the plane. When the bus doors opened, those in the second group started climbing on board. Estella and Renee took seats about a quarter of the way back, Renee at the window. As soon as the last person squeezed into the aisle, Pax shut the door and put the bus in gear.
The murmur started in the rear, and then more voices joined in as the mumbling moved forward through the bus. Renee looked toward the back.
“What is it?” Estella asked.
“I’m not sure,” Renee said.
A voice from the back shouted, “Is that a boat?”
As Renee looked out the window, Estella leaned across so she could see, too. Cutting through the water around the easternmost arm of the port was a speedboat.
“Stop!” Estella yelled, jumping up. “Stop the bus!” She forced her way through those standing in the aisle. “Stop!”
Pax hit the brakes a little too hard, rocking everyone forward and nearly sending Estella sprawling.
“What is it?” Pax said as she reached the front.
She swung around the metal pole and toward the exit.
“Open the door! Open the door!” she yelled.
Pax pressed the release. As the door started to open, Estella pushed against it until there was enough room for her to squeeze through. She jumped out and ran back toward the dock.
The speedboat arrived there before she did, stopping on the far side of the ferry, out of sight. As she neared she got a view of the smaller boat, but no one was in it anymore. Then she saw him moving across the main passenger area of the ferry to the gate on the railing.
Robert.
She sprinted and reached him just as he stepped onto the dock. They threw their arms around each other.
“You missed the boat,” she said.
“So I found out,” he replied.
Renee and Pax arrived a few moments later.
“Glad to see you could join us,” Renee said.
“Thanks,” he said.
Pax looked uncomfortable. “Sorry we didn’t wait.”
“It’s good that you didn’t. A plane flew over about a half hour after you left.”
“Did it see you?”
“Not me,” Robert said in a way that made it clear the plane had seen someone. He nodded back toward the boats. “I could use a hand.”
“There’s someone with you?” Renee asked.
“Bertrand.”
“Is he all right?”
“Nothing he won’t recover from.”
15
Ben had never felt as much relief as he did when saw the United Nations van heading down the road toward him. Two men smiled as they climbed out, but their good cheer quickly disappeared when Ben told them about his pursuer.
He was quickly ushered into the van and they sped back the way they’d come. A screeching turn to the left took them up the south side of the valley. As they crested the hill, Ben could see that instead of more parkland ahead, there was a giant, nearly empty parking lot, and in the middle of all that asphalt — Dodger Stadium.
He had made it.
Traveling through the lot, his anticipation of seeing Martina exploded. He was sure she was here. It was the logical place for her to go. His smile was so wide his cheeks hurt, but he barely noticed.
“How many people are here?” he asked.
Without turning to look back at him, the man sitting in the front passenger seat said, “They’ll give you all the information inside.”
It was an odd answer, but Ben was too excited to give it too much attention.
The van drove counterclockwise around the stadium until it passed the narrow end — the home-plate end, Ben guessed — then turned down a smaller section of the lot, lined on both sides by trees. Unlike the rest of the parking area, this section was full of vehicles: more vans with the letters UN on the side, at least twenty sedans of various makes, and nearly as many military-grade trucks and Humvees.
The driver stopped next to an entrance under a blue awning. Immediately, the door swung open and four people — two male soldiers and a man and a woman, both in white lab coats — exited.
“What’s with the soldiers?” Ben asked, his excitement dimming slightly.
“Standard procedure,” the man in the passenger seat said. “Not everyone who comes here is cooperative.”
“They’re not? Why?”
“Beats me.” He turned and looked at Ben. “Hop out. The counselors will escort you from here.”
“Oh, okay.” Ben opened the side door. “Uh…thanks for picking me up.”
As soon as he exited and shut the door, the van pulled away.
“Welcome to the Los Angeles survival station,” the man in the white coat said. “My name is Dr. Rivera and this is Dr. Lawrence.” He motioned toward the woman. “If you will come this way, please.”
Ben followed the doctors into the stadium, the two soldiers falling in silently behind him. Their footsteps echoed off the dark, polished concrete as the group proceeded down a wide walkway. It was walled off on both sides, preventing Ben from seeing the interior of the stadium.
Dr. Rivera stopped at an unmarked door, pulled out a key.
“This way,” he said, unlocking the door and holding it so that Ben and Dr. Lawrence could pass through first.
Ben had been expecting some kind of office, but found himself in a stairwell.