Sanctuary

by Courtney McPhail

  He took her pack and headed to the vehicles, passing by Mendez and Banks who were helping top up the gas tanks. Kim had been happy to see that when Mendez and Banks had joined them at the service, they had ditched their fatigues for normal clothes. This time the children didn’t get upset seeing them and she hoped that the two new additions had made the choice to change on their own. It would be a huge step in showing the rest of the group that they were dedicated to being a part of it.

  Malcolm had informed everyone that Mendez and Banks would be joining them on their journey before the funeral and most had taken it as good news. She knew she did. They knew how to handle themselves and that would only make the group stronger.

  They were close, less than two days away from the island, and she was done losing people. They were all going to make it if she had anything to say about it. She’d take help wherever she could get it.

  Malcolm walked over to join her and she automatically reached out for his hand. She needed the grounding that Malcolm provided her today.

  “You did good with that,” she said, referring to his eulogy.

  “I don’t want to do it again.”

  She rubbed his arm. “You won’t. We’re almost there.”

  “Mendez and Banks agreed to ride in separate cars, figured that will put everyone at ease.”

  “They were fine with it?”

  He nodded. “They want to make this work.”

  “Good.”

  “I’d been considering waiting until we were closer to the island to tell them about it. Not sure if we could trust them but...it seems stupid, doesn’t it? Lying to them because we aren’t sure if they are being honest with us?”

  He was right. Keeping secrets wasn’t the way to build trust. Besides, there were only two of them to their ten plus. Even if they tried to sabotage them or make a break for the island before them, they would be facing a bunch of CIA agents who were waiting on Malcolm to arrive. And if there was no one on the island, the group would eventually get there and take it back from them.

  “Tell them the truth,” she advised him. “The benefits outweigh the risks.”

  “Spoken like a true strategist.”

  “I’ll leave you to it,” she said but he squeezed her hand to stop her.

  “We do it together,” he told her. “Remember what Craig said? You’re our unofficial First Lady. It’s only right you’re with me when we welcome in new members.”

  She took his hand, linking her fingers with his and they walked over to Mendez and Banks.

  “We wanted to talk to you for a minute,” Malcolm said. “Figured since you’re throwing in with us, you deserve to know what we’re doing. I know I said that we’re heading to the Great Lakes but it’s more than that.”

  Banks was instantly suspicious, his hand unconsciously moving to his sidearm, but Mendez appeared simply curious to hear what he had to say.

  “I never told you why I left the Marines.”

  “I figured you served overseas, got injured and were discharged,” Mendez said.

  “I was injured but I could have gone back.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the leather wallet he still carried with him and flashed it at them. “Except I was recruited out of the Marines for a different position.”

  “CIA, huh?” Banks said and let out a low whistle.

  “Retired five years but I served ten as a Special Agent.”

  Mendez tilted her head to the side. “So what does that have to do with where you’re heading?”

  “Because we’re going to a specific place. An island. It’s part of something called the Omega Protocol. It’s a safe place, maybe the last one left in the world. That’s where we’re going and we figured you ought to know the whole truth.”

  “So when you get to the island, what then?”

  “Living,” Kim said. “It’s a place where we can make a home, build a life for ourselves.”

  Malcolm wrapped his arm around Kim. “It might not be the life we had before but it’s better than crisscrossing the country, spending our nights in abandoned buildings and our days running for our lives.”

  “And what if this safe place isn’t what it seems?” Mendez asked. “How do you know that this island is what you’ve been promised?”

  “Because I know the man who planned it. This isn’t just some regular safe house or evacuation centre. This place was chosen long before the infection ever started. You know the conspiracies about the CIA having all those secret bunkers, prisons, labs, all that bullshit? Well, all of it is true and this is one of those places. Only a select few know about it, handpicked by the Director, all of it beyond classified. It will be safe there.”

  Banks had remained silent through the entire exchange but now he frowned at him and narrowed his eyes.

  “You could have kept up the ruse for a while longer. Why tell us now?”

  “Because you need honesty to build trust,” Kim told him. “Because if you’re joining us then you are one of us and we don’t keep secrets.”

  Banks studied both of them, as if he was weighing their words, trying to read any dishonesty or malice in them.

  “Alright, I’m in,” Banks said and held out his hand. Malcolm shook it and so did Kim, before they turned to Mendez.

  “Sure, why not?” she replied and shook their hands. “Always wanted to see one of those secret government operations anyway and this is easier to get to than Area 51.”

  “Let’s get going then.”

  They headed back to the vehicles, everyone finished the last of the packing and waiting on them. Malcolm walked to the front of the group and the others turned their attention to him.

  She had to admire the way he could command an audience so easily. He had a swagger about him but there was no ego in it. He didn’t know his affect. He knew he was a competent leader but he had no idea how charismatic he could be. He thought people followed him because they were obedient. He had no idea they did it because he convinced them he was the man they wanted to be behind.

  “We’re making a straight run to the lake. No stopping to sleep. Drivers will switch out every eight hours. We only stop to fuel up, bathroom breaks and if we spot any boats. If we don’t spot any, there is a boat storage place near the marina where we’re going. If that is a bust, we’ll search the local marinas and houses. Each car has a map marking the marina. If we get split up, we’ll rendezvous there.”

  He ran a hand over his chin before his eyes scanned over the whole group, taking them all in.

  “I know I’m asking a lot of you. We buried one of our own today and that’s hard. It’s a loss that’s going to stay with us for a long time. All of ours losses will stay with us. Alan, Hillman, Anderson, Montgomery, Foster, Travis, Jose, Ana...all of them died to get us to this point so we aren’t going to disappoint them. We’re going to do this. If we keep a good pace we will be on the island by this time tomorrow.”

  He clapped his hands together. “Alright, let’s mount up.”

  The sound of car doors opening and closing filled the air as everyone climbed in and Kim took an extra minute to sidle up to Malcolm before he climbed in the SUV.

  “I love your rousing speeches,” she said and leaned in to whisper to him. “It’s too bad we aren’t alone in the car. I could show you some very special things two people can enjoy on a long, hard road trip.”

  He let out a strangled groan. “You’re killing me here.”

  “I know,” she replied with a laugh and swatted him on the ass before she rounded the SUV to climb in the passenger seat.

  They all settled in as Malcolm started the SUV, giving her a sideways glance as he grabbed the gear shift and put it into drive. She winked at him and then turned her attention out the window.

  The convoy pulled out on the road and headed west to take the longer way around Franklin. No way were they going back through that death trap.

  “Alright, Banks, I’m gonna give you the low down on riding in this car,” Craig said from his spot
in the back with Lorraine. “Our fearless leader isn’t a fan of music so we can’t make use of the stereo even though we found some kickass CDs in a gas station.”

  “Kidz Bop Country Jams is not kickass,” Malcolm interjected.

  “Says you!” Craig waved him off. “Anyway, it’s up to us to keep ourselves entertained. We tried the license plate game but as you can see, not too many cars passing us. Same problem with Punch Buggy. So we alternate between I Spy and Twenty Questions.”

  “I grabbed some pads of paper and pens from the motel lobby so we can add Pictionary to the list,” Trey said, reaching into his bag.

  “Good thinking,” Craig said. “Let’s start with that.”

  “I’m not exactly an artist,” Banks said.

  “Who is?” Craig replied. “Just make sure what you draw doesn’t look like a dick. If it does, we’re totally going to make fun of you. Freudian slips and all that.”

  Kim looked back to see Banks crack a smile as he accepted a pad of paper and pen from Trey and the boys started their game. She was glad to see that he was trying to be a part of the group.

  Lorraine had already nodded off in the back, nestled between the boxes of food and the sleeping bags. Kim felt the same, still tired from the fractured sleep she had since yesterday but she didn’t want to drift off yet. There would be plenty of time for that later.

  She reached out and grabbed Malcolm’s right hand off the steering wheel, linking their fingers and resting their joined hands on the centre console. He glanced over at her, smiling curiously at her.

  “You said we’re in this together,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I just want you to know I’m here.”

  He lifted their hands up and kissed them. “I always know that.”

  Subject File # 742

  Administrator: You’re here now. How do you feel?

  Subject: Exhilarated. Tired. Happy. Scared...but I guess the biggest feeling is hopeful. I’m actually looking forward to the future now.

  Malcolm had kept them at a hard pace on the highway, blowing through towns when they could, circling around ones that had blocked roads. The hard pace had been worth it though. The sign they passed told them that Auburn was only thirty miles up the road.

  Their last refuelling stop had been at a rest area off the highway that had a tourism kiosk full of pamphlets about the state. According to one of them they had found, there was a boat rental company that also offered winter storage just outside of Auburn and Malcolm had turned them towards it.

  They couldn’t count on there being any boats left in the marina to take. Their best bet was to go to the rental company and hope that it hadn’t been cleared out.

  Malcolm noted the mile marker on the highway and slowed his speed slightly. They were nearing the road where the storage facility was located. It took less than a quarter mile before the sign for Kimball Road appeared on the left and he made the turn.

  He glanced in the side mirror to make sure all the others made the turn as well before he started looking for the storage lot.

  Turned out he didn’t have to look that hard. The sign proclaiming Skippy’s Boat Lot and Storage was hard to miss.

  He had figured that Skippy was the nickname of the man who owned the place but turned out Skippy was a cartoon largemouth bass who wore a skipper’s hat with his name written on it.

  The name was also painted in big block letters on the side of the squat concrete building that sat behind a chain link fence that surrounded the gravel lot. A row of covered boats on trailers were easy to spot behind the fence and Malcolm let out a sigh of relief at the sight.

  They would be able to make it to the island.

  The convoy pulled into the lot, stopping in a line to block the entrance. Malcolm climbed out of the SUV, Kim, Trey and Banks following him. They were joined by Quinton, Claudia, Jackson and Mendez as they gathered together behind the SUVs.

  “Kim, Trey and I will clear the building, the rest of you sweep the lot,” Malcolm instructed. “Guns to be used only if absolutely necessary. We want to stay quiet here, not draw anything down on us. Now, masks up.”

  They put their masks in place and Mendez began to give out instructions on how they were going to sweep the lot.

  “I’m on point here,” Malcolm told Kim and Trey as they approached the building. Its concrete walls were painted a soft yellow, or maybe it had been white once upon a time and had weathered away. Two windows flanked the door beneath the sign that showed Skippy giving a wink and a thumb’s up with his fin.

  Malcolm pulled at the door but it was locked. He looked at Trey and nodded for him to pass the crowbar he was carrying. It didn’t take much effort to pry the flimsy door away from the frame.

  He led the way inside the building, eyes sweeping over the room. Racks filled with bottles of oil and transmission fluid were lined up beneath the windows and life jackets and oars hung on walls between the windows and door. A long counter ran the length of the room, several file cabinets and cork boards against the wall behind it as well as an open door. Malcolm moved behind the counter, glancing beneath it to make sure there were no surprises.

  He stepped to the open door and found a small office with a desk, more file cabinets and advertisements for different boats pinned on all the walls. He checked under the desk and behind the door before he was satisfied that the place was empty.

  “All clear,” he said as he joined Kim and Trey back in the front room. Trey stood at the door watching their backs while Kim was behind the counter, looking through the papers that had been left there.

  “It’s a list of all the boats they have here,” she said, handing over some of the papers. “There’s also a list here of rentals and storage pick-ups.”

  Malcolm nodded. “Start of the summer season, people would be getting their boats out of winter storage.”

  “Looks like the last pick-up was scheduled for a month ago. Lund 2075, Star Step 230, Bayliner 215, Lund 227, Sea Ray 230 SLX. Those mean anything to you?”

  “Yeah,” he nodded, stepping beside her to read over her shoulder. “They’re boat models. Some of them would work for us and if they were meant for pick-up, I bet they’ve had their engines cleaned and fuelled up. If any of them are still here, they’d be perfect.”

  “They’ve got key numbers here,” she said, pointing to a column on the sheet. “One of the drawers was labelled Keys.”

  She handed him the sheet of paper and moved down the counter, her flashlight aimed at the drawers beneath it. She pulled open one of the drawers and smiled. “Bingo. What are the numbers?”

  “Look for 22 and 38 first,” he told her. The Star Step and Bayliner were deck boats and would carry the most people.

  “They’re here,” she said, grinning as she held up the keys that were attached to small floatation key chains that had Skippy’s logo on them.

  “About time something went right,” he said. “Come on, let’s go find them.”

  “The others are back,” Trey said from the door. “All clear.”

  “And we’ve got us rides,” Malcolm said and they headed outside.

  Jackson and Banks were already back at the SUVs, keeping watch over the entrance, while Quinton, Claudia and Mendez waited out front of the building.

  “We’ve got keys to two boats that should be ready to go in the water,” Malcolm told them. “That’s our first bit of good luck so I say we move fast to find them and get them hitched up. I don’t want the luck to run out while we’re here. Trey and Kim, stay back here and gather up enough lifejackets for everybody.”

  As they headed back to the lot, Malcolm gave them a brief description of the boats they were looking for. Skippy clearly did good business with the number of boats that were in his lot, most of them small pleasure crafts for the weekend boater. There were a couple high end cruisers and even a few sailboats hidden among the smaller motor boats. He made mental notes of everything that was here, just in case they found themselves needing any more watercrafts in the futu
re.

  “Got one,” Quinton called out, pointing at the Bayliner on a trailer.

  “Alright, go get one of the cars and pull it round to hitch it up,” Malcolm ordered and Quinton jogged back to the front of the lot.

  It didn’t take much longer to spot the Star Step. Next to it was one of the Lunds, its outboard motor brand spanking new and Malcolm smiled at the sight. It was light and fast, giving them the chance to do any needed reconnaissance easily.

  They got the vehicles pulled around to hitch the boats up, everything moving along smoothly.

  But rather than soothing him, it strung Malcolm’s nerves even tighter. He didn’t trust easy things anymore.

  Once the boats were securely hitched, he wasted no time ordering everyone back in the vehicles and moving the convoy back onto the road.

  The highway wound its way through a forest of trees before they gave way to cottages that lined both side of the road. Malcolm kept a tight hold on the steering wheel, his eyes sweeping both sides of the road as he drove. At any moment he anticipated a car pulling out in front of them to ambush them or maybe gunfire piercing their tires and leaving them dead in the water.

  But the attacks never came and soon they were past the cottages and the trees, surrounded on either side by marsh land. He relaxed to see the flat land that gave him a half a mile view of the reeds and swampy water in every direction. There would be no ambush in this mess.

  The highway wound its way through the marsh, crossing over a couple bridges that rose over the marshland before they were back among trees growing on solid land.

  A sign for Blue Heron Road appeared and he let out a sigh of relief. He had examined the maps of the area before they had left the motel and his first choice for launching the boats had been Blue Heron Marina. It was a small, man-made marina with a canal leading out to the lake.

  He signalled the turn onto the road and they drove along until a building appeared on the water’s edge surrounded by a small gravel lot. Dozens of empty boat slips lined the small marina and Malcolm wondered if it was empty because everyone had gotten on their boats and headed out when things went bad or if the marina was so isolated it had few users.