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Kate was talking about Song Island. About the message Lara had broadcast out into the world.

How much of it was true? How much of it was just an excuse to attack? Kate wasn’t Kate anymore; this Kate, this ghoul Kate, wasn’t above a bald-faced lie.

But they had to get back home to Song Island. That was the only thing he knew with absolute certainty. Lara and the others had made it through yesterday thanks to a combination of guts and tough decisions, but what were the chances of that kind of favorable circumstances two straight nights?

Maybe, maybe not.

He couldn’t risk it, because the stakes were too high…and time was running out.

It was still a kilometer away from their position when Will took his foot off the gas, slowing the Tacoma from thirty-five miles per hour to thirty, then twenty-five, until he had stopped completely in the middle of the two-lane highway.

Route 13.

Not-so-lucky thirteen.

Then again, given how they’d managed to stay alive, maybe it wasn’t such a bad stretch of road after all.

He glanced at his left-side mirror. Danny, in the Titan behind him, had also parked and left a twenty-meter space between the two cars.

On cue, his radio squawked, and Danny’s voice came through. “Home sweet home.”

“Not quite,” Will said. “But we’re getting there.”

“You and what army?”

“You, me, the girls…”

“The bad guys don’t stand a chance…says the two idiots in the trucks about to drive right through an ambush.”

Will grinned. “Captain Optimism.”

“Hey, you know me, always bringing the funk. Just ignore the BO.”

“It’s getting harder by the day,” Gaby said.

“Ouch,” Danny said. “You really know how to hurt a guy’s feelings.”

Will leaned forward against the steering wheel and focused out the front windshield. The portion of the glass in front of him was dirty, but at least it didn’t have a bullet hole to obscure his vision like the passenger side half. Danny’s bullet had caused that, along with the bloody spot left behind on the seat and headrest.

He unzipped his tactical pack on the passenger seat, pulled out a pair of small binoculars, and peered through them. The same buildings from yesterday rose out of the flat scenery flanking the highway, looking like something humanity simply decided to drop into the middle of nowhere. The last time he was here, men on horseback had been trying to kill Gaby, forcing them to retreat backward. They couldn’t do that today. Going back was out of the question. Everything was in front of them, including the gray concrete structure on the other side of the buildings.

Interstate 10.

It would take him west toward a small town called Salvani. From there, it was a straight shot south down to Beaufont Lake and Lara. He needed to reach that stretch of gray concrete in the worst way.

“What do you see, Will?” Gaby asked through the radio.

It was a good question. What did he see, really? Seemingly empty (Yeah, right) buildings on both sides of the road, and I-10 beckoning them. This was the first sign of civilization other than the half dozen or so abandoned farmhouses they had passed since they took off this morning.

“Will?” Gaby said through the radio again. “What do you see?”

It’s not what I see, it’s what I don’t see.

Nothing and everything.

“The same feeder road businesses from yesterday,” he said into the radio. “And I-10 on the other side.”

“What about the posse from yesterday that tried to perforate our little Gaby?” Danny asked. “They didn’t seem like the ‘wander off and not come back’ types.”

“No signs of anyone on horseback.”

“Hunh. I guess my prayers last night worked. Now all I have to do is sit back and wait for that private jet to take me to Song Island. You guys can hop along if you want. I’ll only charge half-price.”

“You’re a swell guy, Danny.”

“Just don’t tell anyone. I got a reputation to maintain.”

Will reached over and pulled his M4A1 off the floor where it had been leaning against the hump between the two front seats. He laid it on the passenger seat with the stock facing him for an easy, fast grab.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Danny said through the radio. “We gonna sit here on our hands and wait for your ghoulfriend to try her luck again?”

“‘Ghoulfriend’?” Gaby said.

Danny chuckled. “I came up with that, you know.”

“Somehow, I figured that, Danny.” Then Gaby said, “Are we really going to do this, Will?”

We don’t have any choice, Will thought, but said instead, “We have to get home. It’s not about the island. There are a thousand islands out there. It’s about the people on it. Lara, Carly…”

“…Maddie, Blaine…,” Gaby continued.

“Carly,” Danny added.

“He already said Carly.”

“I know, but she’s so special she deserves to be mentioned twice.”

“You’re such a charmer.”

“Why do you think Carly lets me do questionable things to her?”

“I think I just threw up a little in my mouth,” Gaby said.

“There goes breakfast,” Danny said. Then, “So, back to our little Sophie’s choice here. I don’t know about you guys, but I got people to see and things to shoot, and if that means pulling a Clint Eastwood and Gauntleting it through that little two-horse town, then so be it.”

“What’s Gauntlet?” Gaby asked.

“Damn, kid, what are you, a kid?”

“Kind of.”

“It’s a movie starring the baddest man alive, Clint Eastwood. Ol’ Dirty Harry plays a cop — of course — who has to get a witness to court in order to testify and all that good stuff. But in order to do that, he has to brave an army of gun-toting bad guys waiting to shoot him. Which he did.”

“Clint had an armor-plated bus,” Will said.

“And you got me. Same difference.”

“God, you guys are old,” Gaby said.

“Shut up and get off my lawn,” Danny said.

Will tuned them out for a moment, letting the group of buildings in front of him fill his vision.

Options. What were his options?

There were a couple, but all of them would take time. Too much time. That was the one thing he didn’t have at the moment.

“Like a certain little island that should have stayed quiet. This is what happens when you stick your head out and get my attention, Will. I grab a hammer.”

Time. They were always running out of time.

Will put the truck back in gear, but didn’t take his foot off the brake.

“Well, make up your mind already,” Danny said through the radio. “Some of us got places to go and things to do, ya know.”

“Stick to the plan,” Will said. “Understand?”

“About damn time.”

“Will, are you sure?” Gaby asked.

No, he thought, but said, “Yes. Stick to the plan.”

“Okay,” she said, even though he could hear the obvious hesitation in her voice. “What about the machine guns? I can go out there and man one of them.”

She was talking about the two M240s mounted on the roofs of the Titan and Tacoma, each one capable of unleashing a hellacious number of rounds per second. But someone had to stand out there in the open in order to use them. That made them too easy a target. He knew, because both he and Danny had shot the two men who had been manning those guns a day earlier.

“No,” Will said. “You’d be too vulnerable back there. All it takes is one sniper on a rooftop and you’re done. Stay inside with Danny, and stick to the plan we came up with this morning. You’re in the full-size truck for a reason.”