The Island - Part 2 (Fallen Earth) by Michael Stark Read Free Book Online Page A

by The National Defense Authorization Act, declared a state of martial law to exist in all US territories, effective noon today. National Guard units, along with specialized components of the United States military have been mobilized and will assist local authorities in enforcing the travel ban issued yesterday. Do you copy Angel ?”
    I stared at the microphone.
    “You’re telling me no one can leave?”
    “That is affirmative Angel . This order carries the full authority of the Office of the President. Violators will be detained, and if they resist, shot. You might want to impress that last fact on your camper. When the weather clears, he is not to attempt a crossing until such time it has been authorized by the appropriate authorities.”
    So many emotions boiled up inside me that defining them all would take more words than I have. Anger rode high on the list however. I wanted to tell her that the wretched old windbags in Washington could go fuck themselves. I wanted to tell her we would cross the damned water any time we wanted.
    Instead, I did what every good hive citizen would do.
    I told her I understood. I turned the radio off at that point and stepped back into the gathering storm. Rain pelted the fiberglass. Already I could feel the temperatures rising as the warm front approaching from the south ran headlong into the cold air that had settled in the day before.
    Massive black clouds boiled in the sky behind me. Lightning spat in thin electric fingers from the belly of the beast and arced toward the island in bright, jagged streaks. A few seconds later, thunder rolled across the heavens, deep and booming.
    Zachary lay face up on the port side, his eyes open and mouth stretched unnaturally wide. I fished the tarp I’d used earlier to make a tent over the cockpit from one of the lockers and covered him with it, tucking the edges in around his body to keep the wind from blowing it away.
    Angel had deviated from her course, the wind pushing her into a more westerly tack that drove her farther out into the channel. Once I had the boy covered, I took the tiller and pulled her back toward Portsmouth. I had no intention of running the gauntlet of waves and current again. Instead I rode her close to shore, looking for the little opening where the three of them had set their camp and where he had launched his ill-fated voyage only hours before.
    I’d take the boat back up to the dock when the weather cleared. At that moment, with lightning scoring bright lines across the clouds behind me, I needed to find shelter and find it quick.
    As fast as the trip down had been, it seemed to take forever to make it back to the campsite. When the tiny point that marked the entrance materialized ahead, I breathed a sigh of relief. That emotion quickly evaporated when I rounded the break in the trees.
    The buggy sat in the clearing, with a figured huddled inside.
    Surprised, I turned the boat toward opening in the reeds that led to the tiny stretch of sand beyond.
    Angel grounded only a few feet from shore. I flung the duffel bag I’d packed earlier high up on the island where it tumbled through the grass before rolling to a stop. Snatching up the bow line, I jumped off the bow and secured it to a gnarled pine near the water’s edge. When I turned, Kelly stood on the bank, shivering in the driving rain, eyes wide.
    “Did you find him?”
    Lightning flashed behind me.
    “I did,” I said and left it there. “Let’s get out of here. That storm is going to break at any minute and life will not be good if we’re caught out in it.”
    “Where is he?” she demanded.
    “He’s dead,” I told her. “And we stand a good chance of joining him if we don’t get under cover. Let’s go. I’ll tell you what h appened when we get to the life-saving station.”
    She stared at the boat for a long time. When she turned, she pulled a strand of sodden hair away from her face. Rain dripped from the ends. I couldn’t tell if the water