by Ariel Bonin
"Would you excuse me for a minute, Hannah?" she asked, fighting to stand from the wicker chair.
"Sure. Are you feeling all right?"
Lindsey forced a smile. "Fine…I just need to use the bathroom for the tenth time today."
The young woman giggled and remained seated, striking up a conversation with Zoey as Lindsey disappeared into the tiny bathroom.
A few minutes later, whilst in the middle of a discussion about Nicholas and his improvement since losing Kat, a distant "pop" captured their attention.
"Did you hear that?" Zoey asked, perking up slightly.
"Yeah," Hannah said, "it sounded like a gunshot, but it wasn't on the island."
"Do they ever use their guns on the fishing boats?"
The young woman looked at her with a shadow of apprehension in her green eyes. "Not that I know of... I mean, they wouldn't need it for just a turner—especially out in the ocean."
Zoey nibbled on her bottom lip and glanced outside. "Should we do something?"
"Like what? I'm sure they've got it under control—"
A barrage of gunfire erupted—this time much closer. Zoey jumped back and huddled on the floor in an attempt to stay away from the windows. Hannah scooped up Jacob and moved next to Zoey as the infant looked around in confusion.
"What do you think we should do?" Zoey asked, keeping her voice low even though the threat didn't seem to be in their immediate area.
"I don't know. Just stay down." Hannah paused. "Where's Lindsey? Is she still in the bathroom?"
At that moment, the door creaked open and Lindsey stuck her head out. With a blanched face and shaky voice, she asked, "Was that what I think it was?"
Zoey pushed up to her feet and strode toward Lindsey, saying, "Yeah, it was! I need to find my dad—"
"No," Lindsey said, supporting herself with a hand on the doorway. "I promised him we would stay here."
"Wait, you knew about this?"
More sounds of assorted gunfire echoed from nearby and they both flinched. Lindsey hissed out a breath. "Sort of… Your dad told me something was wrong, but he didn't know what it was yet. He made me promise we wouldn't leave the house." Her face contorted into a slight grimace, her lips pressed together tightly.
Zoey frowned. "Hey, are you okay?"
Lindsey swallowed her discomfort as the constricting pain in her waist lessened. "I think so… Listen, I said that we are staying and it's not up for debate, but we may have a problem."
Zoey eyed her nervously. "What?"
"My water just broke."
_____
Andrew and Kirkman gaped at the communication device in the younger man's unsteady hand. They could not believe what had just transpired.
Nicholas was dead.
Andrew blamed himself. He allowed it to happen. He could have stopped it, but doing so would have cost more lives—his wife's, for sure—that much was a given. Now the entire island was in danger, as they weren't prepared for an attack of this magnitude.
Frantic knocking interrupted the stillness around them and Kirkman moved to get the door. Charlie and Phil rushed in, their chests heaving as they caught their breath.
"There are a shit-ton of boats headed our way and the firepower to go with it," Phil managed to say.
"Got patrols on it, but we're gonna need a lot more men—and guns," Charlie added.
With that statement came an onslaught of shooting, some from the island, some a little further offshore.
"I need to get back to Lindsey and the kids," Andrew muttered as he started toward the door.
"Andy! Hey! Wait!" Charlie demanded, grabbing the man by his shoulder. He turned the former captain so they were facing each other. "You gotta trust that they know what to do. Right now we need ya…'cause if we don't handle this, there ain't gonna be an island left or any people to live on it."
Andrew shook his head adamantly. "Lindsey promised me they wouldn't leave the house, but it's not safe there. I need to know that they'll be okay."
"If ya told her to stay put, then she will."
Kirkman, who was standing next to Charlie, spoke up suddenly. "Andrew, what you told Victoria just now…you need to own up to that. Don't let Nicholas's death be in vain."
Charlie turned to look at Kirkman with a wounded expression. "They killed Nick?"
Kirkman nodded, casting the room into painful silence, but gunfire put a harsh end to it. He crossed the room to stand in front of his cot and bent over to retrieve a large plastic case from underneath. Unsnapping it, he revealed three scoped M4 carbines, six 30-round magazines and a loaded Beretta. He strapped the latter to his hip and locked the necessary mags into place. Andrew accepted a rifle while Phil and Charlie took the others. Charlie still had his own, but didn't have enough ammo on him for this fight.
"What about you?" Andrew asked Kirkman.
The general vanished into his bathroom and could be heard rummaging around. Finally, he emerged, a massive weapon in his arms.
"What the fuck is that?" Phil asked with a faint smirk.
"An Auto Assault 12-gauge shotgun with 32-round drum mag. I hoped I would never have to use it, but at least today I'll enjoy taking out these shitheads."
_____
"We need to get you to the clinic!"
Hannah stood in front of the pregnant woman as Zoey helped her over to one of the living room chairs again. Lindsey blew out an exasperated breath and shook her head.
"No! I promised Andrew we would stay. We're staying!"
"I know—you've said that, but if your water broke then that means the baby is coming and there are risks of infection—or worse—if you aren't given the proper care," Hannah said, holding Jacob a little closer as more shots fired off nearby.
"We have no idea what's going on out there. It's not safe. Either way, I'm not in the most ideal position…" Lindsey said. She looked down at her enormous belly and felt another contraction coming on. She began her controlled breathing but this one hurt more than the last. They were running out of time. She hadn't pictured the birth to go down this way, but really should have known better than to think that everything would keep going so smoothly.
Zoey knelt before Lindsey and gazed at the woman with her father's eyes. "Lindsey, we need to go. I know you promised him, but you weren't having the baby before. He'd want you to go. We can leave a note and I'll even take the blame if you're afraid of him getting mad at you."
Lindsey smiled at the girl and tried to ignore the anxiety that came with the thought of going out into unknown dangers while suffering through sporadic contractions. Zoey was right, though. They needed to get to the clinic and Dr. Anderson. It would only become more difficult as time went on, too. If they waited and ended up having to leave later on…it might be too late.
"Okay," she whispered. "We'll go."
_____
Andrew and his crew followed the sounds of conflict, which didn't leave him feeling very assertive. Any sane person would run away from gunfire—not toward it—but that was the way it worked. They needed to take on the threat so other, more innocent, people didn't have to. He certainly had experience with that after serving three tours overseas.
His group made it just to the edge of the trees and slowed, not wanting to alert the enemy of their presence. They all crouched down behind the thick vegetation and took in the shocking sight before them. Boats—at least two dozen—lined the beach. Men were still disembarking, but many were on shore and disappeared into the trees on the opposite side before they could do anything. The men all looked the same—rough around the edges and wearing lots of leather even though the temperature was probably in the high nineties.
Andrew took in each face, searching for the one ingrained in his memory of a woman with black hair and the heart to match it. None of them looked familiar so he had to assume that Victoria was already on the island, which did not sit well with him in the least bit.
"All right, we need to cut them off," Kirkman said. "Andrew and Charlie, st
ay here and take out as many as you can. Bring up the rear from there. Phil and I will circle around and get in front of them—stop them in their tracks. Got it?"
When everyone agreed, Phil and Kirkman took off in the opposite direction, which would lead them toward the main buildings—and Victoria's "sons." Andrew glanced at Charlie as they lifted their weapons.
"You ready?"
Charlie nodded. "For Nick?"
"Yeah," Andrew said, lining up his sight. "For Nick."
_____
After getting Jacob situated in a pack on Zoey's back, Lindsey gave Hannah her back-up handgun because she didn't trust herself to protect them. At any moment another contraction could start and Hannah knew her way around a weapon—it just made the most sense. Zoey had her own gun so they were as protected as they could be in their current situation.
The three survivors glanced at each other and took a deep breath before opening the bungalow door. Zoey led, followed by Lindsey, then Hannah. They thought it best to avoid the main walkways, so they took a rough trail behind the row of houses, sticking close to the overgrown trees. No people—good or bad—crossed their path and Lindsey had to assume that many of the island residents had taken cover—or at least she hoped that was the case. She thought about Robert, Caren and Eric, Ana and Charlie, Tyler and Nicholas, her students—but most of all, Andrew. With so much gunfire around the island, an unwelcome part of her wondered if one of those bullets had ended up in her husband, bringing him to a permanent fate like so many of their close family and friends.
"There's only one way to the clinic from here," Hannah said as she stopped them inside a patch of palm trees. The sound of gunshots was louder now. "We're gonna be out in the open. Zoey, keep Jake and Lindsey between us. Don't drop your guard or fall back. Okay?"
It's not supposed to be like this, Lindsey thought to herself sadly. I'm supposed to protect them—they're just kids…
Zoey nodded in agreement, but Lindsey stopped them before they left the covering of trees. She put a hand on her stomach as another contraction wrung out her trembling body. Hannah spoke calm, encouraging words and stroked her back in slow circles.
"You're doing great. We're almost there, Lindsey. Just think of all the blue JELL-O you're going to get," she said with a sweet smile.
The pain ebbed and Lindsey let out a shaky laugh. "Why else do you think I agreed to go?"
_____
Andrew emptied his magazine and reached for the last one in his back pocket. He loaded the heavy weapon in his arms and looked over at Charlie as the man mirrored his actions. They'd taken the beach and were about to carry out phase two of the plan, which was to meet Kirkman and Phil at the main buildings after removing the threats standing between them. There was still no sign of Victoria, and as much as Andrew would be satisfied with the other men taking her out, he truly desired to be the one to do it. After listening to Nicholas die mercilessly, he'd promised himself he would get the job done.
"Head's up," Andrew said, nodding at something behind Charlie.
The man turned around to face an approaching turner—one of Victoria's dead men. He and Andrew had taken a few minutes to stab each one in the head so turners wouldn't become a second problem on the island, but this one must have been just inside the tree line. He stumbled toward Charlie, teeth gnashing as fresh blood shone on his brown leather vest. Charlie removed his knife once more and pushed a forearm against the cadaver's chest. At the same time, he jammed the blade under its chin. When he yanked it out, dark blood shot from the wound, and the turner collapsed like a sack of flour.
"Hopefully that's the last of 'em," Andrew said.
Charlie slid him a tired look, his voice grim. "It won't be."
_____
As much as it bothered Lindsey, she stayed behind Zoey, choosing to protect Jacob—that was what she told herself. Multiple sources of gunfire could be heard up ahead, followed by men shouting. Some seemed angry, while others were clearly in pain. Their agonized cries were the unmistakable sound of impending death and she felt her heart accelerate in fear. It was a horrible idea to go this way and she longed to turn around.
"Zoey, who is that?" Lindsey asked as she spotted a body over the girl's shoulder. The man's clothes were civilian—familiar.
"I think it's—"
"Lindsey, look out!" Hannah yelled suddenly.
Lindsey only had enough time to focus on a familiar face amongst the tropical foliage—an older woman with long dark hair—before Hannah stepped in front of Lindsey, blocking her view. A shot rang out and Lindsey felt her face get blasted by a spray of warm liquid. She watched in absolute horror as Hannah fell at her feet, blood oozing from a gaping wound on the back of the girl's head.
"Move!" Zoey shouted, pushing Lindsey down into the nearby bushes. Dirt flew up around them as Victoria continued to shoot. Zoey cried out and grabbed at her arm.
All of a sudden, the shots stopped, presumably because Victoria had run out of bullets. Zoey stuck her head up to get a clear view and raised her gun, firing off two rounds. The woman yelped and collapsed, disappearing from their sight. Zoey scanned the path to the clinic and saw more men ahead, blocking their way. Her voice shook as she said, "We need to go back to the house. There's no way we can get to the clinic—I don't think it's safe anyway…"
Lindsey stared at the girl with wide, unseeing eyes. Spatters of bright red blood covered her pale face. All she could picture was the inside of Hannah's head—someone who had held so much life and was one of the most caring people she knew—all of that extinguished in a millisecond.
"B-but Hannah…we have to…we can't—" she mumbled almost incoherently.
Zoey tilted her head. "Lindsey, she's dead. We can't help her now."
Tears flooded the pregnant woman's eyes and her lower lip trembled at Zoey's words. She knew they were true—it just hurt to hear them spoken. Lindsey's watery gaze traveled to where the girl held her arm, a mess of dirt and crimson smudged on her hand.
"Are you hit?" Lindsey asked, and attempted to fight off another building contraction.
Zoey pulled her hand away and glanced at the bloody gash on her upper arm. "It's just a graze. I'm okay." Jacob began to cry and fuss once more. "Shit, we need to go. Come on."
The girl hauled Lindsey to her feet, even as her legs quivered and ached from the pressure in the center of her hips, and, while supporting the woman the best Zoey could, turned back toward their bungalow.
Chapter 26
As Andrew and Charlie progressed through the trees and thick undergrowth, they continued to eliminate Victoria's men one by one. There was still no sign of the bitch herself, but they were drawing near the main buildings and Andrew had a gut feeling they'd find her there.
The known sound of tearing flesh and open-mouthed chewing caught their attention as they entered the open area in front of their final destination. A female turner gnawed on the short intestine of an unidentifiable man, but Andrew recognized the woman—she was the one who had called out Lindsey when the pregnant woman's name was drawn for that unfortunate run to the mainland.
While feeling sorry that the older woman had gone out this way, Andrew watched Charlie remove his knife and put her out of her misery. With the turner silenced, a distant snarling was noticeable now, but they could not gauge where the sound was coming from. The two men moved further into the opening and lifted their eyes as they finally found the source.
General Kirkman hung from the unused flag pole that marked the courtyard in front of the clinic. His body jangled like a marionette on a string as his turner form strained at the warm food below. The sight brought Andrew back to when they'd first entered Victoria's town—the entire street lined with bodies hanging from the power lines. His stomach twisted in disgust at the blatant disrespect that had befallen the distinguished man.
"Ya want me to…?" Charlie asked, and turned his rifle upward, squinting against the bright sun.
"Yeah," Andrew said as he briefly allowed a wave of sa
dness to wash over him.
With a well-aimed bullet, it was done. Kirkman's body went limp and Andrew walked toward the flag pole to cut him down.
"I'm out," Charlie said, and placed his rifle on the ground. He was in the process of switching to his M4 when he added, "Hey, got a blood trail here," and pointed to a continuous line of red droplets on the sandy ground.
"Okay, let's see where it takes us, but first—give me a hand."
_____
Once again, Lindsey, Zoey and Jacob made it back to their bungalow and did not cross paths with a single soul, much to their surprise. Zoey entered the house first, checking each room properly before allowing Lindsey to come inside. Sweat glinted on her brow as the time between contractions shortened and the pain intensified.
Zoey helped her down the short hallway and over to her full-size bed. As Lindsey eased onto her side, Zoey unsnapped the baby carrier on her own back and brought Jacob down to stand in a pack-n-play in one corner of the room. The toddler plopped onto his behind and started to play with the toys around him, allowing Zoey to disappear into the bathroom. She came back with an armful of towels and a wet washcloth. She began wiping away the speckles of blood on Lindsey's spent face and the woman gave her a weak smile.
"Thanks."
Zoey chewed on the corner of her lip and avoided Lindsey's gaze as she said, "You're not going to be thanking me in a minute."
"What do you mean?" Lindsey asked, opening her eyes a little more.
The teenager didn't answer her and instead, pushed to her feet, going into the bathroom once more. She returned with another cold washcloth and placed it on Lindsey's forehead. "I'm going to find my dad."
Lindsey's breath caught and she tried to lever herself up, but another contraction gripped her. The pressure in her lower back was almost unbearable and she uttered a low moan. When the agony ceased, she looked at Zoey with worried eyes. "You can't go back out there. Please, Zoey, don't go."
