Mulberry nods. Pam’s eyes widen and she shakes her head. She starts to argue with him, her brow drawn and mouth moving quickly. Mulberry turns to look behind him—his expression is fierce verging on dangerous. I recognize that face. He’s made up his mind. My stomach tightens with pain and my son kicks at my ribs, pinching my breath.
More smoke clouds the view. Mulberry turns back to Pam. His arm comes out fast, pushing her hard. She stumbles out the door and he slams it shut, switching the lock manually.
Then he turns back to the flames and I get to see his face again. It’s set in grim determination. His eyes rise to the camera. “I love you,” he mouths. A lick of flame crosses the lens and it goes black.
My heart is in my throat and my stomach cramps worsen, bending me over. All I can do for one long pain-filled moment is attempt to breathe. “Sydney.” Dan’s voice sounds far away—like I’m dreaming and he is trying to wake me up. I hope I’m still in my coma and none of this is real. Blue’s tongue swipes at my cheek and the pain recedes. “You okay?”
“No,” I answer bluntly because I just am not okay. Not at all okay.
“I’m sorry.” Dan’s voice is hoarse. He’s used it too much in the last however many hours this disaster has been going on. Time has turned funny in the wake of it.
“Is there any way he could have survived?” I ask.
“I don’t think so,” Dan says. “The fire has burned itself out, but it’s still too hot to go in.”
“I want to go in when the time comes,” I say. “I need to see for myself.”
“Okay,” Dan says, his voice heavy with sadness.
“Tell me what’s going on and how I can help.” It’s time to fill my mind with something else. When James died, I filled my mind with thoughts of revenge. There is no murderer here to end. So I’ll have to figure out how to help.
“I’ve got the sat link up,” Dan says, “which is good—the ash cloud has cleared out enough to get texts through. I was able to send Merl a message. He’s arranging transport to get us all off the island. It should be here in two to three days. We have a crew at the landing strip working on cleaning it up. The injured are all stable. And one of the jeeps even survived. So we should be fine until our transport arrives.”
“We have to abandon the island?” I ask. “Forever?”
“Hopefully not forever,” Dan says. “But the crops have all been destroyed, our solar panels and wind turbines damaged—we’re running on half power right now. We have enough food and water to last us a week, maybe two, but the functionality and sustainability of the island are destroyed. We can rebuild but it will take a different group of people—we’re mostly computer nerds.” He lets out a soft laugh. I try to smile but can feel that I’m just giving a grimace. “Selena, the head of engineering…” Dan trails off, his eyes drifting to the large screen on the far wall.
“Yeah, I remember her,” I fill in.
“What is that?” Dan asks, swiveling his chair to fully face his desk again. I follow his gaze.
“What?” I ask. I scan the screen…camera views of the island. The whole thing is brown, all of the vegetation covered in ash. One box displays the cleanup going on over at the airfield. Another holds a radar screen—the green and black circle on a grid used by air traffic controllers. A small white thing pings on it.
“That,” Dan says. “What the fuck was that?”
He starts typing and my stomach hurts again. Crackling comes from his speakers.
“Safe Haven Island, Grumman Tiger Alpha Alpha Five, request permission to land.”
Dan and I stare at each other. “Robert’s team?” I ask.
“It’s a small craft,” Dan says. “Not much of a team.” He starts typing and brings up the specs of a Grumman Tiger AA5. “It seats four but can’t really handle that much weight…”
He presses a button on his keyboard and responds. “Grumman Tiger Alpha Alpha Five, how many people are on board?”
“Just me,” the answer comes back after a beat. “Robert Maxim sent me for his wife.”
Of course he fucking did.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
“I’m not leaving,” I say. Dan turns to me. His red-rimmed green eyes narrow as he looks at me. “What?” I ask. Dan’s gaze drops to my stomach.
“Sydney, I think you should go with him.”
“What!” My voice cracks, all the damn crying I’ve been doing breaking it.
“Our power supply is unstable, Sydney. The volcano could erupt again. I think you should get off this island.”
“You have a broken leg,” I say, accusation lacing my voice.
Dan cocks his head like I’m making no sense. I swallow, realizing that I am, in fact, not making sense. “You’re about to give birth,” he points out.
“I don’t want to leave,” I say.
Dan’s mouth turns down and he swivels his chair to more fully face me. He reaches out and puts his hand on my knee. “Sydney.” His voice is gentle yet firm, like he’s talking to a good friend who is making a bad decision. That would be me, I’m the good friend making the bad decision. Dammit. “You have to go.”
“I’m not leaving until I see the body,” I say, swallowing, my brain latching onto that idea like it might save me even though I know it won’t.
“You are going to give birth soon. New life. Shouldn’t that be the priority?” Dan says, his voice low, careful, but forceful.
I shake my head, tears welling. “I have to find him.”
“He is dead.” Dan takes in a deep stuttering breath. Heat builds behind my eyes. Mulberry is up there in a charred ruin behind a sealed door. He sacrificed himself to save us. I can’t stand it. “Would he want you to stay here and search for his remains? Or would he want you to leave? To get to safety. Get your child, his child, to safety. Please, Sydney. Get on that plane and fucking go.”
“But,” I chew on my lower lip. “It’s not right, Dan. I should stay and help.” A pang in my low back makes me swallow hard.
