The Serophim Breach (The Serophim Breach Series) (46 page)

“But Mike still has one, and a shotgun. Heather too,” she continued, hoping to push him past whatever heart attack he was having.

“Well, that’s good,” he finally responded. Sarah thought it sounded like he was smiling.

“So, how long until you meet us?” she asked.

Once again, the static sounded for a too-long moment.

“Listen, kiddo.” Kai’s voice had regained its quiet, urgent tone. “I don’t think we’re going to get out of here anytime soon. We’re locked in a ward without power, but the Marines are here, and we’re going to be perfectly safe, okay?”

Sarah looked up at Mike, her eyes wide. She couldn’t understand what she was hearing.

“You’re not . . . you’re not coming?” she whispered.

“I’m sorry, Sarah. I want to get to you more than anything, but . . . I just can’t right now. So I want you to stay with Mike, okay? Can you do that for me?”

She realized she was shaking her head.

“If it’s safe there, why can’t we come back to the hospital?” she asked, her voice small. She knew the answer he would give her before it came.

“You guys have to get out of here,” Kai said firmly. “Don’t come back. Mike, I need you to get to the marina and get to Maui. Please. We’ll follow as soon as we can. Just keep the radio, and we’ll be able to find you. And, Sarah, keep your phone on you. Once we get somewhere with power, it will make it easier to get to each other.”

She didn’t realize she was shaking until Heather placed a hand on her arm and gently pulled the radio away from her.

“Kai, it’s Heather again. We’re pulling into the marina now, and we have to move quickly. My dad wants me to tell you he’s going to get us off the island. And we’ll meet up with you as soon as we can.”

Heather’s voice was thick with emotion, a few heavy tears sliding down her cheek as she spoke.

“That’s good,” Kai answered, relief and anguish both plain in his voice. Sarah heard him swallow hard and then say, “Please thank your dad for me.”

Heather held the radio up for Mike, who simply said, “I’ll keep them safe, Kai. You do the same.”

“Thank you.” Her brother’s voice was low, quiet. “Sarah, do what Mike says. I love you, kiddo.”

“I love you,” she whispered, and the tears clouded her vision.

“Let me know when you make it to the boat, and then we’ll turn these off to conserve the battery,” he continued.

“Be safe, Kai.” Heather spoke again. “We have to go. We’re at the marina.”

Her brother’s voice was filled with anxiety when he acknowledged Heather, and then they said good-bye.

Before she had time to process what had just happened, Mike swung the SUV up over a curb and onto a grassy knoll to avoid the barricade at the marina entrance.

“We’re going to have to be fast,” he said, the hardness back in his face. “Really fast.”

Heather acknowledged him with a simple nod, but Sarah knew what she was thinking. Still, they had to try.

Heather leaned down and looked her in the eyes, offering up the radio again.

“Can you carry this?” she murmured. “I need my hands free, just in case I have to shoot.”

She nodded again, feeling like a silly child, but determined to fulfill some kind of purpose.

“There. That party boat,” Mike said, pointing out the window. “The one that says Marina Cruises.”

Both girls nodded weakly, their eyes full of fear, but Heather’s face was set with determination. Sarah struggled to mimic the expression, to dredge up the last bit of strength in her, and in the next second, Mike pulled the SUV up to the dock and slammed on the brakes.

The second they got out of the car, both Mike and Heather had their pistols in hand. The infected that had trailed them there were too close for comfort, the fastest already clambering over the same grassy knoll where Mike’s SUV had left tire tracks.

“Let’s go,” Mike growled.

Sarah took off running for the boat Mike had pointed out, the adrenaline coursing into her system sharpening everything around her: the briny scent of the ocean filled her nostrils, along with the acrid stench of the SUV’s tires where they had come to a screeching halt; the howling cries of crazed predators already nearly at their heels; the weight of the radio in her hand, and the knowledge that they had far too few bullets to ensure their safety; the only thing that seemed fuzzy, far away, was the boat, rocking benignly in its mooring.

Mike ran just behind her and Heather in front, scanning the docks as they moved toward their destination. Sarah could hear their crazed followers behind them now, their footfalls slapping the pavement too fast as they gained on their little group. Instinctively, she looked back over her shoulder and saw a few of their pursuers break away from the pack and fan out, trying to cut off their avenues of escape. Hope bloomed in her chest—they didn’t realize she and the others were running for the boat. With a wild burst of optimism, she cut left, then right, hoping to feed the illusion that she didn’t know where she was going.

When the toe of her shoe caught the boardwalk plank, everything around her seemed to be happening in a sudden haze. She lurched forward, crying out, and stuck her hands out to stop her fall; she watched, detached, as the radio fell from her grasp and clattered to the ground, sliding away toward the water. Then she tumbled to the boardwalk, slivers of pain shooting into the heels of her palms and her knees.

“
Sarah!
”

It was Heather’s voice she heard, and the terror that filled it told her they were in danger of being run down. There was no time to go for the radio, she knew. But she had lost control of her body, and she was scrambling forward, reaching for her lifeline to Kai, before she had time to think. Just as she reached it, rough hands were on her, and she screamed, the full force of her terror ripping out of her in a sound of utter desperation. She flailed against her attacker, the images of Lani returning vividly, horror threatening to overwhelm her. But then, a different picture filled her vision: her brother, cradling a walkie-talkie, waiting to hear that she was safe. A sudden determination to fulfill her promise flooded into her, and she fought the hands that were hauling her up from the ground with a new kind of strength. Finally, she landed a vicious kick, and the hands released her.

The others would be close behind, she knew, so she sucked a breath into her heaving, burning chest, lowered her head, and ran full-out for the dock that led to the boat. She was nearly there before Heather’s scream broke through her panicked determination, and she finally looked up wildly to find her companions.

Heather had already made it to the boat and was standing at the edge of the boarding dock, looking back at Sarah. Her expression was plain: Sarah wasn’t going to make it. Clinging to the image of Kai, she pumped her legs harder, faster, running for her life and waiting for the force of the attack that would end it.

Suddenly, Heather was running toward her.

“Go back!” Sarah cried out breathlessly. She was nearly there. She would make it. There was no reason for Heather to come back.

The other girl blew past her, unseeing. Confused, Sarah whirled to look behind her, and only then realized her mistake.

The hands that had grabbed her had been Mike’s, pulling her to her feet, pulling her to safety. Her detour for the radio and the kick she had landed to his leg had slowed him enough that rabid followers had caught up to him, overwhelming him almost instantly. He was pinned beneath them, firing his pistol, his face a grim mask of pain and fury.

Sarah couldn’t move, could only watch as Heather ran toward him, firing shot after shot into the attackers; they didn’t even flinch when the rounds thudded into their bodies. Finally a round exploded through one of their skulls, and the man dropped to the ground, limp.

“The head!” Heather screamed at her father as she slammed another magazine into the pistol.

The carnage nearly knocked Sarah off her feet. Bullets ripped through the heads of attackers, blood splattering the wooden planks around Mike. He was still fighting, struggling to aim his weapon and fend off the scratching, tearing, pummeling blows that came at him from all sides. A woman covered in gore lunged for his face, her mouth wide; a round from Heather’s gun pierced her skull seconds before she could sink her teeth into Mike’s skin, the force of the impact knocking the now-unmoving body back onto the ground.

There are too many
, a voice said in Sarah’s head. Only one crazed lunatic straddled Mike now, but a second group was making their way up the boardwalk; these were wounded, limping along on broken legs, some nearly crawling, all their eyes locked on their struggling prey. With a sudden burst of strength, Mike knocked the attacker off his body and surged to his feet, grabbing the shotgun he had slung across his back and aiming it into the oncoming pack.

It was not accurate enough to ensure kills, but the rounds did enough damage that the pack’s progress was slowed. Heather made it to her father’s side, and they began to retreat, Mike still firing rounds, their progress agonizingly slow. And all at once, the spell broke; Sarah ran aboard the boat and placed the radio on the nearest bench, then sprinted back to the boardwalk to join her protectors.

Heather saw her approaching and screamed at her to get back to the boat, but Sarah ignored her, rushing forward to support Mike’s other side. She scooted in beneath his arm and felt warm, wet blood soaking into her shirt almost immediately. They clambered back, the pack still advancing, until they were finally aboard the boat. Heather kicked away the boarding dock, and in seconds, Mike had somehow made his way to the engine room.

She stood near the side of the boat waiting for the engine to turn over and watching as the mangled mob got closer. It seemed impossible that any of them remained on their feet; their wounds were so staggering, many of them clearly mortal, that she couldn’t understand what drove them forward. They were close enough for her to see their eyes when the engines finally rumbled to life and Mike steered the boat out from the dock and toward the open sea.

The steady rolling waves that passed beneath the hull rocked her back and forth as she watched the boardwalk grow smaller behind her. The sun had just begun to climb over the horizon, but the light was still hazy, clouded by smoke and the remains of the previous night’s storm. She stood quietly, hoping that as the distance grew between her and the island, some sense of security would come over her; instead, her muscles remained tightly knotted, her stomach threatening to empty itself at any moment.

A sudden, consuming fear sent her running for the bench where she had laid the radio. If they got out of range before she contacted her brother, it would all have been for nothing.

“Kai?” She was almost sobbing as she called out for him over the radio. “Kai?!”

“Sarah?” His response was faint, the distance already interfering with their connection.

“We’re on the boat. We’re safe.”

She heard that he responded, but the interference garbled his words. She pressed the button one more time and said, “We’re safe.” There was no answer but static.

They had been at sea for less than twenty minutes when the effort of standing at the wheel drained Mike’s last reserve of strength. Hastily, he showed both Heather and Sarah how to steer and drive the boat before lumbering over to sink into a cushioned seat near the back of the cabin.

Sarah had let a few moments of silence pass before she turned to face him, doing all she could to keep tears from welling in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Mike,” she said, her voice a whisper.

“Oh, kiddo.” He smiled good-naturedly. The effort behind the action was evident. “It wasn’t your fault.”

She nearly dissolved into tears, but knew it would be unfair to ask either of her companions for any more comfort. As it was, Heather stood stiffly at the wheel, her eyes focused out to sea; she had hardly acknowledged Sarah’s presence at all.

“If you could track down a first aid kit, that would be great,” Mike continued. She nodded and began searching the cabin. When she found what she was looking for, she carried the heavy kit over to where Mike sat, and watched as he began to clean his wounds.

Soon after he had stopped most of the bleeding, Mike began to doze where he sat. Every few minutes he would open his eyes blearily and glance around, looking as if he were unsure where he was. Then he would rub his eyes, and the moment would pass. Sarah watched him, concerned that he was in some kind of shock.

The third time it happened, his eyes cleared, but he kept them open and directed at the floor, his brow knitted in concentration. Sarah continued to watch, but he didn’t move—he hardly blinked. Only the steady rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed reassured her that he hadn’t slipped into a coma. A long time passed before he finally spoke again.

“I’m going below,” he said softly, without looking up.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Heather was immediately concerned, turning away from the wheel to face her father.

“Nothing. I’m just tired,” he said. Even to Sarah, his bluff was not convincing.

“Dad.”

Mike remained silent, weighing something in his mind. Before he spoke again, he squared his shoulders as if he were heading into a battle.

“I told Kai I would keep you both safe. And that’s what I’m going to do.”

Heather frowned.

“I don’t understand.”

Finally, Mike looked up at her and said, “We still have no idea what’s going on. What’s turning people into monsters, why there’s no help . . . how this is spreading. But I was close enough to catch whatever it is if it’s airborne. And if not . . . ” he shrugged, gesturing to his wounds, “there are other ways to get infected. It might be I’m just exhausted, but I have to be sure. So until we get to Maui, I’m going to lock myself in somewhere. You don’t let me out until you know it’s safe. Do you understand me, Heather?”

His daughter watched him, her face impassive. Finally, she gave a curt nod, and Mike returned the gesture.

“Good girl. Sarah, watch the wheel for a bit while Heather helps me downstairs.”