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“Back to Bernie’s,” Jack said.

“Yep, I’ve lost my appetite for surveillance,” I said.

At this point, after everything that had happened today, I reckoned we could all do with being in a safe place to take a mental break and plan for our future.

We descended to Bernie’s old apartment. I took the key out of my pocket and opened the door. The familiar place looked welcoming in our frazzled state. I stepped inside and my foot slipped on a piece of paper. It hadn’t been here when we’d left last Monday. I leaned down and picked it up. Morgan bumped me from behind.

“Are we going in?” he asked.

“There’s a note,” I said. “Delivered after we headed to Monroe.”

I took the paper to the couch, sat down, and squinted at the untidy handwriting.

Jack secured the door and rushed over. “What does it say?”

“Same time, same place. My heart will go on.”

“That’s the song you played in the parking lot, wasn’t it? Celine Dion?” Jack asked.

My pulse quickened. This could be the kind of boost we needed. “It’s Lea. She must have put it here in the last two days. There’s no other explanation.”

Morgan tore the note from my hand. “Who’s Lea?”

“Do you think she means the Queensboro Bridge at eleven a.m.?” Jack asked.

We’d arranged on Twitter to meet Lea a week ago at the Queensboro Bridge. She hadn’t shown because of the presence of a killer, but later fell into our trap at the parking lot. Jack’s theory made sense. Lea might have inside information for us if she’d managed to meet up with Martina.

“We should go tomorrow morning, hide somewhere and stake it out,” I said.

“It’s worth the risk. She might be able to help us—”

“I need to be involved in this,” Morgan said, his voice rising over Jack’s. “Who is she, and how did she know you would be here?”

“We came here before escaping the first time,” Jack said. “She went missing in Monroe.”

I smiled at the thought of her being here and trying to contact us, but wondered exactly what she’d done to stay alive.

———

At eight in the evening, Jack lit three of the half-melted candles on the table, providing us with gloomy light. He sat on the couch opposite Morgan. I checked the cupboards, remembering we’d left a few cans behind. After preparing three bowls of cold baked beans, I sat with the others.

Jack and Morgan immediately spooned beans into their mouths.

“She wanted to make her own way and try to find her partner,” I said.

“I’d have thought the chances of that were pretty slim,” Morgan said with his mouth still full of chewed beans. Once a corporate ass, always a corporate ass. Being a corporate ass doesn’t instantly grant you good table manners, though. He could still be an officious buffoon and chew with a half-filled mouth.

“Not when you consider that they both worked for Genesis Alliance, and the partner was the niece of the head guy up there.”

He clanked his spoon in the bowl and placed it on the table. “You were with someone from Genesis Alliance?”

“She wasn’t really one of them,” Jack said. “She had a job as an admin assistant or something, sorting out shipping and payments.”

“You know they want to find you. They’ll be using her as bait.”

“She’s not like that,” I said. “Lea’s pretty smart and doesn’t take any shit. She went back because of her partner, Martina. She won’t go along with GA.”

“Suit yourselves, but don’t expect me to come.”

“Fine by me—you can stay here,” Jack said. He threw his bowl in the sink and headed for the bedroom. “I’m going to sleep. Wake me when it’s my watch.”

Jack had probably turned in early to avoid a growing temptation to use Morgan’s face as a punching bag.

I spent the evening cleaning my rifle, checking the magazines, and thinking about the morning plan. Morgan fidgeted for an hour before reading Moby Dick, which he’d found next to the telephone. He kept peering over the book at me, humming to himself and clicking his tongue.

“Are you going to sleep?” he eventually asked.

“I will when Jack gets up. We like to keep watch.”

He drummed his fingers against the arm of the couch and sucked his teeth.

I swear he was trying to piss me off on purpose by invading the silence with his incessant noises.

“Will you stop that?” I asked.

He smiled at me and put down the book. “Sorry. Can you give me any more info on Genesis Alliance?”

“Not much more than what we’ve already told you. They’re on Hart Island and are obviously still operating. Their Headquarters is coming after the locals messed up. Don’t know what they have planned, but we need to try and beat them to the control unit.”

“You’re not going to beat them by sitting in here cleaning weapons.”

I put down a working part and glared at him. “If we find Lea, she might be able to help. We’ll work something out tomorrow. I’ve got no intention of sitting around.”

“You said they have a tech team and that Headquarters is in the UK, right?”

“So what?”

“Sounds like they’re organized.”

I shrugged and continued to clean my rifle. It felt like he was being flippant with me.

He continued to read and glanced over the book every few minutes. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to say something or offer his advice on what to do, but I thought it prudent to ignore him. The mere presence of him got on my nerves, and he had a funny way of making a room feel small.

My temper bubbled to the snapping point over the next three hours as he continued to fidget and make noises. Thankfully, Jack poked his head out of the bedroom. “Harry, want to get your head down? Get yourself four hours before we head off.”

I sighed with relief. “Cheers. I’ve cleaned your rifle—twice.”

He gave me a knowing smile, and I headed for the bedroom.

I didn’t need a second invitation to get out of the living area, but I expected him to send Jack into a rage. I tossed and turned for a few hours, gaining restless sleep, mixed with thoughts about the dead children on the boat, Lisa, Chip, Harris, and Rick. We’d lost a lot of good people over the last day, but Lea’s note had given me hope.

———

The apartment door slammed shut. I scrambled up and headed into the living area.

Jack sat on the couch reading a book. “He’s gone.”

“Morgan? Gone where?”

“He was being an annoying bastard all night. I kept telling him to shut up. He said he couldn’t take it anymore and left.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“Said he was getting a boat or something. To be honest, I’m glad he’s gone.”

I had mixed feelings about Morgan leaving. I realized that if he’d stayed with us, it wouldn’t have taken long for an explosive situation to happen. But we were a man down, and that was something we couldn’t really afford at the moment.

Morning sunshine seeped through the metal blinds near the top of the wall. We finished off two cans of beef stew from the cupboard and washed ourselves in the sink. Bernie and Linda’s twentieth anniversary porcelain carriage clock chimed from its shelf. Nine o’clock on Monday morning.

Our understanding of the killers had changed since our last excursion to Queensboro Bridge. People suffering aftereffects were less predictable, but still highly dangerous. Above everything, the shadow of Genesis Alliance loomed, and could grow even larger today if their ship docked at Boston.

We decided against taking a car. Things were quiet around us, and we didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention. We hugged a concrete railway bridge that ran along the center of the Queens Boulevard, staying away from the stores that lined either side of the road. Only the ones containing food had been looted. In the distance, Manhattan stretched into the sky. The faraway noises that had punctuated the silence yesterday evening had died down. I only heard two distant gunshots as we approached the Queensboro Bridge.