365 Days Hunted

by Nancy Isaak

  “Jacob might not think that sounds stupid,” smirked Kieran, from his seat at the end of the table, “but I certainly do.”

  Connor frowned at him. “I don’t mean, like I’m psychic or anything like that. It’s just that sometimes I can put little signs together and figure things out. Like when a guy starts angling his body and his right hand begins to twitch, sometimes I know that he’s going to fake with his left hand. Then, when you look in that direction, he’s going to punch you out with his right fist.”

  “That’s nothing special,” sniffed Kieran. “That’s just common sense. Everyone fakes with their left before they hit you with their right. Dad taught me and Jacob that when we were little.”

  “But it’s more than that,” insisted Connor. “The Crazies have guys all along the hills on the other side of the tunnel. If I can see them all, I might be able to figure out what their next step is from how they’re moving. It’s kind of like watching all the dancers in a show and knowing what their next dance steps are going to be before they do them.”

  “They’re Crazies,” said Kieran. “Who cares what they’re dancing.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” Connor sighed, becoming frustrated. “You’re not getting it!”

  I held up my hand, silencing both of them. “Connor, you can come. But I want you up on the hills with the surveillance team. You’re not going in the tunnel with me and Kieran.”

  “But…”

  “But nothing. You’ll be able to see everybody better up high, anyway.”

  “That’s true,” he conceded. “But I’ll have to figure out a code system with Pauly and his guys in case something is about to go down. Maybe we can use flags to let everybody know what’s happening.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” I said. “Why don’t you go work on it and let me have a moment with Kieran to talk over some things?”

  * * * *

  “There’s no way Pauly is going to learn a flag system in the next couple of hours,” said Kieran, once Connor had left the room.

  “Probably not,” I agreed. “But it’s still a good idea.”

  “Connor’s full of them,” Kieran murmured. “Or full of it.”

  “Are you jealous, little brother?”

  “Not even,” he frowned.

  “Good,” I nodded. “Because you and Connor need to be able to work together. For the good of the tribe.”

  “Whatever,” grunted Kieran, leaning back in his chair, looking a little annoyed.

  “Take a look at this,” I ordered, placing my right hand on the table between us. Using a pen, I drew a little star on the webbing between my fourth finger and my pinkie.

  Kieran leaned forward and looked down at my hand. “You drew a star. What of it?”

  “That kid—Brent. He’s got one just like it between his fingers.”

  “So what?”

  I pulled my hand back. “I think it’s a sign. Like the numbers on the backs are slaves and the ‘A’s’ in the circles are Crazies and the thunderbolts around the ‘A’s’ are the leaders.”

  My brother looked totally confused. I spit on my finger, rubbing away the little star. “Just before he rode off, Brent showed me the star between his fingers. Remember, when he bent down to fix his stirrup?”

  Kieran nodded.

  “Well, he wasn’t fixing anything. He was showing me the tattoo. And he said something to me.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Look for the stars.”

  “That’s so random,” Kieran murmured.

  “And he said ‘stars’—as in plural.”

  “So—you think that Brent meant there’re more guys with stars on their hands?”

  “I think that’s exactly what he meant,” I nodded. “And I think that what he was really telling me, is that there’s a group of guys in the Crazies who aren’t nutso like Brandon and Mateo. I think that he’s trying to let me know who I can trust.”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense,” said Kieran. “If these Star-guys don’t want to be Crazies, then why don’t they just leave?”

  “But it does make sense,” I argued. “Think about it. We Locals have a pretty good life here down on Point Dume. So, why did we risk everything to free the slaves at the Fire Camp? And why did you and Pauly do the same thing up at Tapia? For that fact, why are we still looking for the third slave camp now?”

  “Because it’s the right thing to do,” said Kieran. “Just because we have it good doesn’t mean that we should let other tribes keep slaves.”

  “Well, maybe it’s the same way for these guys,” I suggested. “Their tribe is full of young impressionable guys like Damien and Goran, right? Maybe these ‘Stars’ are trying to figure out a way to take over the tribe and rescue those kids and the slaves—only they’re doing it from the inside.”

  Kieran thought about this for a moment. “I don’t know. Maybe that Brent guy is just setting you—us—up to think that. Like another one of Brandon’s plans to infiltrate our tribe.”

  “It’s certainly possible,” I agreed. “Which is why I think you should keep the Stars secret for the moment. Other than me, you’re the only one who knows. I suggest that—when you think the time is right—you let Connor and Josh into the secret. When you’ll let the rest of our guys know…well, that will be up to you. But, keep these Star guys in mind when you’re dealing with the Crazies, because they might just be your way in to infiltrate their tribe.”

  “What do you mean—my way?”

  Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a set of keys. Placing them on the conference table, I slid them across to Kieran.

  “What’s this?” he asked, suspicious.

  “Keys to the mansion, the doors in the wall, and the garages. There’re some other buildings on there—supplies, our old house, that sort of thing. You’ll be able to figure it out.”

  He didn’t touch the keys—just left them sitting in front of him. “Why are you giving them to me?”

  I just gave him a look.

  “You’re coming back,” he growled, becoming angry. “So, I don’t want them.”

  “Bro, you’re going to need them,” I said. “Because you’re going to be in charge.”

  He looked shocked. “I don’t want to be in charge. I suck at leading.”

  “That’s not true,” I told him. “I saw you lead on the fire line. And you and Pauly rescued all those guys from Tapia. Maybe you don’t realize that you’re a leader, but the rest of us do. Besides, it won’t just be you. Until everything gets sorted out, I think it’ll be better if there’s a team.”

  “Who else do you have in mind?”

  “Porter and Josh.”

  Kieran thought about it, then nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “that would work. But, only until you come back. Because you are coming back.”

  Probably not.

  “Of course, I am,” I agreed. “We just need to get Rhys back first, though. Which brings me to something else that I need to talk to you about—what will happen to Rhys at the trade. It’s not going to be enough to just get him back from Brandon. You’re going to have to find a way to keep him here when he sees me taking his place.”

  “He’s going to go bonkers,” admitted Kieran.

  “Which means that you have to be the one responsible for making him stay.”

  “You want me to sit on him?” he grinned.

  “If that’s what it takes.”

  * * * *

  By the end of our meeting, Kieran had given me his solemn promise to keep Rhys from following me. He then promised me that he also wouldn’t try and follow.

  I believe that Kieran’s telling me the truth about Rhys.

  I also believe that he’s lying about himself.

  And that’s just one more thing that has me worried. If Kieran does do something stupid at the trade today—or even after—then there’s a good chance that he could get somebody killed.

  * * * *

  Meanwhile—the sun is rising.

  I
can see the beams hitting the tops of the waves. If I had been smart, I would have been out there now—taking one last ride along Zuma.

  Guess it’s too late now.

  There are footsteps out in the hallway.

  I hear the whispering of guys—Kieran, Ian, Ethan. The others are probably there, too, wondering if I’m awake.

  Sooner or later, one of them will get up the nerve to knock.

  A LIFE FOR A LIFE

  The tribe lined up, shoulder-to-shoulder, from the outer walls of the compound, all the way to the junction on Dume Drive. As I passed, guys reached out, touching me lightly on my shoulder or arm—whispering words of encouragement. A few of the younger guys were crying—which surprised me—long trails of tears that ran down their cheeks to fall to the ground.

  * * * *

  Ethan and Wester were also sobbing openly as they stood beside Porter at the junction. I dropped to my knees beside them, taking them both into my arms.

  “Hey, little men,” I murmured.

  “Please don’t go!” pleaded Ethan.

  I moved back, holding them out, so that I could look into both of their eyes. Wester was trying to be brave, but Ethan was clearly scared.

  “It’s okay, buddy,” I told Ethan. “Kieran and Porter and Josh will be taking care of you guys while I’m gone.”

  “You’re coming back?” he asked, his voice wavering.

  “I’m sure going to try.”

  “Promise?”

  “Cross my heart, little dude.”

  Wester leaned in, whispering into my ear. “If they swing at you with a machete,” he said, quietly, “drop to the ground. Go under their legs and then run, run, run!”

  I pulled back, astonished, looking into his very serious eyes.

  “The nuns told us that,” he confided to me. “In Haiti…for when the bad men came.”

  * * * *

  I faced Porter, shaking his hand.

  Earlier, I had forbidden him to accompany us on the trade. Although Porter hadn’t liked it, he had understood how important it was for the tribe to have at least one of their medical officers remain on the Point.

  “I’d still like to go,” Porter said now.

  “You’re too slow,” I teased. “You’ll probably want to stop and scavenge the houses for books along the way.”

  “Be nice to have a bigger library.”

  “Sheesh, Porter,” I sighed. “Always with the library! All right, dude—I promise. Second thing on the agenda when I get back, is to find a way to visit the Malibu Library.”

  “Second thing?”

  “Sorry, bro,” I said. “But freeing the slaves trumps Stephen King. Agreed?”

  “It’s close,” grinned Porter. “But I guess you’re probably right. We get you and Rhys back, free the slaves…then go to the library.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  * * * *

  Frank was not at all happy about the trade.

  “Brandon can’t be trusted,” he cautioned. “He’ll break his word in some way. He always does.”

  “Most likely,” I agreed. “But Connor has a good plan. We have to follow it through if we have any chance at all of saving Rhys.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” he asked.

  “No, bro,” I answered. “Like you said. It’s time for you to step back from all this Crazy-stuff. Right now, you’ll be of more use to me here on the Point.”

  “Probably a good idea,” he nodded. “Truth is, I’d most likely do something stupid if I saw Brandon again.”

  “And we need clear heads on the trade, Frank.”

  “Understood.”

  He shook hands with me, clapping a hand on my shoulder at the same time. “You’re one of the good guys, Jacob.”

  “You, too, Frank.”

  * * * *

  “You shaved off your afro,” I said, running my hand over the top of Andrei’s head. “I thought you were going to grow it longer.”

  Andrei turned around, showing me the giant ‘L’—made of shaved hair—stretching from the top of his head, down to the nape of his neck. “It stands for the Locals!” he crowed, proudly. “Some of the other guys in the unit have done it, too.”

  “Nice!” I grinned.

  “I think it looks stupid,” sniffed Ian, beside him. “I’ll keep my hair, thank you very much.”

  “Don’t hate me ‘cause I’m beautiful,” Andrei sang, irritating Ian even more.

  Reaching out, I gave them both a good fist bump. “You guys make me proud,” I told them. “You’re in charge of Rhys’ unit until he gets back. While we’re up at the trade, you’ll be the ones protecting the Point…the last line of defense for the Locals and I’m counting on you.”

  Andrei saluted me. “No Crazies allowed, sir.”

  I looked at Ian.

  “Just come home,” he said, quietly.

  * * * *

  There were twenty-one of us who headed up Kanan-Dume that morning.

  Kieran, of course, was right by my side. Connor had gone up sometime during the night, and I had to assume that he was already in place with the rest of the guys along the hills.

  Josh, meanwhile, had been left back at the compound. He and Porter would be in charge until Kieran returned to join them.

  Pauly and Jonny also marched with us. They would be responsible for giving my armed guards any orders, since I would most likely be otherwise occupied.

  Although Xavier had stayed behind to help Ian and Andrei with Rhys’ unit, Nate had insisted on being one of the ten volunteers who would come with us to act as a back-up.

  “You went down that cliff on a block and tackle,” Nate told me, as we turned up Kanan-Dume. “You saved my life by doing something really stupid and dangerous. Did you really think that I wasn’t going to return the favor?”

  “Thanks, Nate,” I responded. “That means a lot to me.”

  “Dude, you’re our leader…our king.”

  * * * *

  They were already waiting by the time we reached the tunnel.

  We could see them through the dark hole in the hillside, backlit from the sun shining in from the other side.

  Brandon, Mateo—and Brent.

  Although they had their horses, all three of them had dismounted and were sitting on a small rock wall to the side. Brandon was smoking and laughing hard at something that Mateo had just said.

  Brent had what looked to be a bottle of beer in his hand. When he saw us approaching, he took a quick chug, stood up, and threw his bottle to one side. It smashed against the rock, the shattering of the glass echoing through the tunnel.

  “I don’t see Rhys,” I said to Kieran, as we walked steadily closer.

  “Neither do I. They must be holding him back, farther up the curve on their side.”

  Looking up at the hills around us, I could see the tip of a head here and there, barely visible among the rocks. I wondered where Connor was but—no matter how hard I looked—I couldn’t see him.

  * * * *

  “Jonny, you and the guards need to stay here,” I ordered. “Nate, you take your guys and head back the way we came. Space your guys out like Connor wants. You’re guarding the return route. Only Kieran and Pauly will be going into the tunnel with me.”

  There was a frenzy of movement as the guys raced to their positions. I waited until everyone had settled in before walking toward the mouth of the tunnel. Kieran and Pauly matched me step-for-step, one on either side.

  “Nice day,” said Kieran pleasantly, as we walked. “Not a cloud in the sky.”

  My hackles—already jangling—went on full-alert.

  “You better not have something planned,” I warned him.

  “I promised you, remember. My job is simply to get Rhys out of here alive.”

  Although I felt a little better by his answer, there was something about his attitude that left me on edge.

  * * * *

  When we entered the tunnel, the dark enveloped us. It was cool in
side, with only the slightest hint of a warm breeze coming down from the Valley.

  At the far opening, Brandon threw down his cigarette, grinding it beneath a boot. Along with Mateo and Brent, he started walking toward us.

  “Seriously, Kieran,” I whispered to my brother. “Don’t screw this up.”

  “I have no plans,” he said, quietly. “Not a one.”

  On the other side of me, Pauly suddenly chuckled.

  My head immediately spun around to look at him, but he avoided my gaze. “Dammit, Pauly!” I hissed. “What the hell do you have planned?”

  Unfortunately—there wasn’t time for him to respond.

  The Crazies had arrived.

  * * * *

  The six of us stood in the center of the tunnel.

  Nobody spoke.

  I tried to catch Brent’s eyes, but he studiously avoided any contact, looking down at the ground and shifting dirt around with his boot.

  “Jacob,” said Brandon, as way of a greeting.

  “Where’s my brother?” I asked him.

  At a nod from Brandon, Mateo let out a wolf whistle. It was answered immediately—two short, quick blasts from somewhere up in the hills on the Crazies’ side. Through the mouth of the tunnel, I suddenly saw two horses making their way along the road toward us. Because of the distance, their riders were difficult to make out, but I was certain that the smaller of the two was Rhys.

  After a few minutes, they stopped at the mouth to the tunnel and the taller of the riders immediately jumped off of his horse, tying it up next to Brandon’s. Then, he reached over to the other rider, pulling him off his horse with brute force.