“Keep that in mind when we’re over at the Trade Center,” Juan said.
“See this?” Taz showed me his machine gun. “This is an AK-47—when you absolutely, positively want to eradicate every motherfucker in the fucking room. Accept no substitutes.”
“It’s big,” I said.
“Big dick, big gun.”
They both giggled uncontrollably and I caught a hint of weed wafting off of them.
“Are you guys stoned?” Juan asked.
They shrugged.
“We can still do our job if that’s what you’re thinking,” Ducky said, leaning against the dresser.
“Why?” Taz sat down on the bed, the mattress springs creaking under his weight. “You gonna arrest us, Officer?”
Juan shook his head. “No. Actually, I was going to ask if you had any more. I could use a hit right about now, and I bet Kevin could, too.”
I nodded. A nice buzz would have taken the edge off of me right about then.
Taz’s expression was one of surprise, and then regret.
“Shit, I wish we did have more. This was the last of the stash. We been saving it for a special occasion, but we figured this might be the last chance, you know?”
“Yeah, I know,” Juan said. “I’ve got something that I’ve been saving for a special occasion, too.”
He pulled open another drawer and held them up. All three of us gasped.
“Are those—more grenades?” I stuttered. They looked huge.
“White phosphorous grenades, a kind that was only used by the Special Forces and Black-Ops units. But I managed to get some from a friend of mine, right before everything collapsed. There’s one for each of us, so use them only as a last resort, okay?”
Taz and Ducky started laughing again. I took mine warily. It was heavier than I would have thought, even heavier than the gun. Holding it in my hand scared me, but I felt a little better after they explained how to use it.
“So what’s the plan?” Ducky asked.
“I don’t know,” Juan admitted. “I’m making this shit up as I go along. We don’t know enough about them, where they post guards, if there are any entrances at water level, what kind of weaponry they have. All we know is what we’ve seen from the roof. When we get there, we’re going to have to think quickly and play it by ear. Taz, you and I have the heavy shit. I figure we’ll open up, and keep those fuckers busy, while Ducky and Kevin try to free Louis and Christian.”
“What about the girl and the baby?” I reminded him.
“Sure, them too. And any other prisoners we find. We’ll keep the cultists pinned down while you rescue the captives.”
Taz stood up and scratched his groin. “Be straight with us. You really think we can pull this shit off?”
“I don’t know.” Juan shrugged. “Worst case scenario, we take as many with us as we can, so that the rest of our group doesn’t have to worry about them. It just pisses me off. We should have done this a long time ago, but we didn’t. And now Christian and Louis might pay the price.”
We fell silent then, each lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Juan stirred. His joints popped as he stood up, and they sounded loud in the silence.
“Okay, you guys get your shit together. I’ll meet you on the roof in five minutes. Hopefully, Lee and the others have got that raft ready.”
I sought out Lori and found her hurrying up the stairs with an armload of rope. I called her name and she turned. She started to speak, but I quieted her with my mouth, pressing my lips to hers as I pulled her tight against me. Her hair and clothes were wet, but her body was warm. Then I pushed away and looked into her eyes.
“I love you. I need you to know that before I leave. Maybe it’s too soon to say it out loud. It’s only been a few days—what we have—but I’m in love with you.”
A tear ran down her face. I watched it, mesmerized.
“I love you too,” she whispered. “Be careful.”
Swallowing, I assured her that I would and wiped her tears away with my finger.
“I wish I could cry,” I told her. “I wish I could show you how much—”
Lori silenced me with another kiss, then let go and turned away.
“I’ll be here when you get back.”
She disappeared up the stairs.
After a moment, I followed her out into the rain. On the roof, the rest of the group was clustered around the raft. Tabletops and plywood had been lashed to seven big metal drums. The raft was rectangular and pointed at one end. It looked ready to fall apart.
Ducky pointed at the makeshift craft. “We’re gonna go over there in that?”
“Trust me,” Lee said, “it will work. A raft floating on two ten-gallon drums will support approximately one hundred and eighty pounds of weight. Like we said before, none of us have been eating well, so we’re all safely under that. According to my calculations, this should support the four of you, plus Louis, Christian, and the other captives. We added some buckets and Salty’s tubs for extra buoyancy.”
“But why is it pointy?” I asked. “Rafts are supposed to be square, aren’t they?”
“Pointed rafts are easier to propel, especially if they’re rectangular, rather than square. We fashioned you some crude oars using push brooms and mops from the janitor’s closet. Hopefully, they’ll work.”
“They’ll have to,” Ducky said.
“You did good.” Juan shook Lee’s hand. “Thanks, man.”
Taz pointed at a rusty, multipronged piece of metal with a length of rope attached to it, lying in the raft. “What’s that shift?”
“A grappling hook,” Lee said. “Improvised at the last minute, of course, but it should suffice. It always seemed to work for the pirates.”
Juan and Lee laughed, and seconds later the rest of us joined in. It felt good—good but surreal, as if the laughter could take away the gravity of what we were about to do.
Ducky picked up the grappling hook and squinted at the rest of us. “Ahoy bitches! I’m the dread pirate Ducky.”
It was stupid and silly, but we laughed harder. I got a stitch in my side, and tears ran down Juan’s face.
That was when the singing started.
We all heard it this time. Well, at least the men heard it; a beautiful, clear melody that carried over the roar of the waves and the sound of the rain. We stopped and cocked our heads, entranced. The women stared at us like we’d lost our minds. We turned just as Nate jumped off the roof and plunged into the water.
“Shit!” Sarah shouted.
The spell was broken. We raced to the edge, staring in disbelief. Nate was entwined in the arms of the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Long blond hair, glistening with droplets of water, cascaded over her milky skin and breasts. Their mouths met hungrily, their tongues seeking each other. Nate went limp, surrendering himself to her embrace, locked in her arms. The woman in the water wrapped herself tighter around him, twisting her body. Her lower half crested a wave.
From our vantage point on the ledge, Sarah, Mindy, and I gasped in unison. We couldn’t believe what we were seeing. Instead of legs, the woman in the water had a fishlike tail, grayish-silver and covered with scales. She flicked it back and forth, as if she was waving at us with it, and then both she and Nate vanished below the surface.
“Nate!” Sarah shrieked.
Mike stepped out of his shoes and balanced on the ledge, preparing to jump.
Mindy grabbed him, “What are you doing?”
“We’ve got to get Nate! She’s drowning him!”
The water churned and then the mermaid’s head broke the surface again. Nate was no longer with her. The mermaid stared at us and I lost myself in her eyes. Then she opened her mouth and began to sing.