“That’s all they do,” Gene said. “People are always showing up here. Like you. Like us. Maybe like your friends.”
Keo stared out the window at the coastline in the distance. The land, or what little of it he could see, was brown and gray under the sun. What were the chances Gillian had made it inland? Maybe they had decided to bypass the island entirely?
“When was the last time you left this place?” he asked Gene.
“Not since I arrived. Why would I?”
“For one, you’re running out of food.”
“Not really.”
“No?”
“There’s a big ocean out there. Once I run out of nonperishables, I figure I could always learn to fish.”
“You mean you don’t know how to fish?”
Gene gave him a noncommittal shrug. “I’m a fast learner. And I’ve been hoarding books about doing all sorts of things.”
“Is one of them fishing?”
“Fishing, hunting, shooting, all kinds of things.”
Keo glanced at Gene’s rifle leaning against the wall nearby. Deuce looked well-used, its stock noticeably chipped.
“So what now?” Gene asked. “You came here looking for your girlfriend, but she’s not here. She probably never even made it. So what’re you gonna do?”
He sighed.
Good question, kid.
*
Keo spent the next few hours walking around the island. For a place that stretched eight kilometers long, Santa Marie was a lot smaller than it looked from the water, with one main road that encircled the place. It was well designed to accommodate a small and privileged population, and he could see why it was so attractive. It was isolated, but just a boat ride away from the mainland, and perfect for those who could afford its limited space.
As he walked out in the open, Keo could feel their eyes on him. They could see him, but he couldn’t return the favor. For every house that looked empty, there was one or two that showed clear signs of occupation, either by the pulled curtains or the furniture stacked on the other side of the windows to stave off the bright sun.
Come out, come out, wherever you are…
If Gene’s theory was correct and the creatures had arrived by ferry that first night and never left, then the islanders were still here, somewhere, either hiding in their old bedrooms or basements, or wherever they could find a dark, damp place. That led Keo to wondering how long these things could survive without fresh blood. Or did they even need fresh blood at all?
The things he didn’t know about them could fill a book…or a dozen.
Keo had completed a full circle around the island when he saw a figure moving on the roof of one of the homes in front of him. He unslung the MP5SD and slipped behind a power pole, realizing too late that it was much too small to hide his entire frame.
He peered out and watched the figure, silhouetted against the sun, picking something up from the roof. It was a man-he could tell that much by the shape and shoulders-and as he straightened up-
It was just Gene, and he was cradling a couple of plastic two-liter Coke bottles in his arms.
The teenager spotted him and shaded his eyes, then shouted down, “Hey, what are you doing?”
Almost putting a bullet in you, that’s what, Keo thought as he came out from behind the pole.
“I scared ya?” Gene said, not even bothering to hide his amusement.
“What are you doing up there?” Keo shouted up. He stood outside the house, which had two garden gnomes that had been completely overtaken by the weeds, giving them the impression of children lost in a forest.
Gene held up one of the bottles. “Just retrieving this,” he said. Then, “Give me a sec,” and disappeared off the roof.
Keo put the submachine gun away and looked around the street. He would never get used to the quiet, the nothingness staring back at him. He had no idea how the kid had survived by himself for so long. Keo would probably have gone insane after a month. Oh, who was he kidding? He probably wouldn’t have survived the first few weeks.
Gene came out from behind the house, cradling the two bottles in his arms. One was half-full, the other even less than that. “Forgot to get these after the rain last week.”
“Are they clean enough to drink?”
“Only if you don’t subscribe to the theory that rain is just the gods taking a leak, then I don’t see why not.”
Keo chuckled. “You’ve been here by yourself way too long, Gene.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
They walked up the street, back toward the house on the hill.
Keo glanced briefly back at the house Gene was standing on the rooftop of a few moments ago. “No ghouls?”
“Not the last time I checked, but I didn’t go inside.”
“Scared?”
“No point. I took whatever I could from the place last week.”
“So how’d you get to the roof?”
“Ladder in the back. You wouldn’t believe what you can find in people’s backyards if you look hard and long enough.” He walked in silence for a moment before adding, “They usually stay away from the smaller houses. There’s a whole nest of them in that red one near the west marina. The thing is, they don’t really move around that much. My mom had a word for it, but I can’t remember.”
“Lazy?”
“Nah. Something with an L, though.”
Keo looked at the Coke bottles in the teenager’s arms. “How many of those do you have sitting around?”
“Dozens. I told you, I could live here for the rest of my life on just the fish alone. I mean, I don’t want to, but if I had to, I could.”
“What about your friends?”
“What about them?”
“Have you tried looking for them?”
Gene shook his head. “I wouldn’t know where to start.” He paused, then glanced at Keo. “What about you? You decided what you’re gonna do next yet?”
Keo sighed.
“I take it that’s a no,” Gene said.
“Maybe tomorrow-” Keo started to say, when he stopped and looked backward toward the east side of the island.
“What?” Gene said.
Keo shushed him, then unslung his MP5SD.
The very familiar whine of boat motors in the distance, closing in fast…
CHAPTER 3
He had heard motors-more than one, he was sure of it-but as it turned out, there was just one craft; it just happened to have two motors in the back powering it. It was coming from the east, which meant it was probably cruising around the Gulf of Mexico when it decided to swing over to check out Santa Marie Island. Just his luck, it was heading straight for the marina, where his boat was tied up.
It was some kind of offshore fishing boat, bigger than his twenty-two-footer by a mile, and a hell of a sight better looking, too. What he wouldn’t have given to have had something that comfortable during his three days on the ocean. He might have stretched it out to a week, just to prolong the solitude.
The boat coming toward him now had a sleek deep V hull design and shiny navy blue colors on the outside, with an all white interior. Probably twenty-eight or twenty-nine feet long with a three-meter beam. He couldn’t see the man behind the steering console in the middle because of the enclosed T-top that hid him, but he didn’t have any trouble picking out the two soldiers on the bow. One was crouched and peering through binoculars at the marina, while the other stood watch with a rifle in a sling.
He couldn’t make out any details across the distance, but it wasn’t hard to spot their uniforms. Soldiers. Except these guys were wearing dark black and not the brown and gray camo of the ones he was used to seeing back in Louisiana.
“What’re they doing back so soon?” Gene said next to him.
The teenager was whispering, even though he didn’t have to. They were flat on their stomachs along the ridgeline, about fifty meters from the marina to their right, and surrounded by plenty of rocky formations to hide them from even binoculars. The vessel was still more than 500 meters away but closing in fast, thanks to its dual motors.