Empty Is the Grave Page 8

  Maybe if he repeated it often enough, he could will it to be.

  Morgan would never let him live it down if he was.

  The boat crashed through another wave.

  Ugh.

  At least he’d skipped breakfast that morning. Much to Elly’s dismay.

  Elly. Yeah. Maybe if he focused on her, he could distract himself from the churning in his stomach.

  Besides, they had to arrive at Alcatraz soon, right? It was only a little over a mile off shore and they seemed to be moving at a good clip.

  He just had to hold his stomach a little while longer.

  The air in the cabin was stuffy. Would he feel better if he sat outside?

  Maybe, but that would require moving, which seemed like a poor choice right about now.

  At least Morgan, standing out on the deck like he belonged on the sea, hadn’t noticed what Zander imagined to be a lovely shade of green on his face.

  His phone rang.

  Unsteady fingers pulled the phone from his pocket.

  Elly!

  Something was wrong, wasn’t it? It had to be. She wouldn’t call him if everything was okay, not when she knew he was working.

  The worst part was that there was nothing he could do to help her from way out here!

  He swiped to accept the call. “El? You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” An uncharacteristic tightness lined the words. “Zander, don’t go to Alcatraz. Please. Just… don’t go.”

  The coffee in his stomach turned to rocks. His gaze darted out the window to the rapidly approaching island.

  An island they would reach in minutes.

  There was no turning back. Not now. “What’s going on?”

  “I-I don’t know.”

  She sounded near tears. Not that such a thing was too uncommon these days.

  “Josiah…” She pulled in a shaky breath. “God sent him there. To do battle. There are evil forces at work there and only Josiah can see them!”

  Demons.

  A chill flashed across him.

  Josiah had talked to him about the spiritual forces around them.

  What would happen if he walked into a spiritual battleground? He knew demons could tempt and influence, but could they hurt flesh and blood?

  “Please, Zander. Please tell me you won’t go out there. Not today.”

  Her begging wrenched his heart.

  It was tempting to agree, just to keep her calm, but he’d vowed never to lie to her.

  Besides, didn’t God call him to honesty in everything?

  “Mi Amor.” My heart. Such a fitting nickname for the woman who had claimed his. “It’s too late.”

  A choked sob came across the line. “You have to get out of there! It’s not safe.”

  This overblown, emotional response was so unlike her. Simply hormones? Or was God warning him through her?

  Apprehension churned his gut worse than the waves.

  Elly and her brothers heard from God like no one else he’d ever met. Hormones or not, any caution from them should be taken seriously. “Did God tell you this?”

  A pause. “He-He told Josiah. That a battle is going to happen.”

  The knot inside him loosened slightly. “But He didn’t specifically give you a message about me? That I’m in danger here? Or that anyone on the island is in danger?”

  “I-I guess not?” A heavy sigh drifted across the line. “I did it again, didn’t I? Let my emotions run away.”

  He chuckled. “Maybe a little.”

  It had happened a few times so far during the pregnancy.

  “Still.” Anxiety dripped from the single word. “Spiritual warfare isn’t a game. I really think you guys should stay away.”

  He looked out the window at the looming chunk of land. “We’re approaching now.”

  Was that a wisp of smoke? He squinted at the thin gray tentacle stretching to the sky from the other side of the island.

  Spiritual warfare couldn’t make the island combust or anything, could it?

  He almost laughed at the stupidity of such a thought. Good thing he hadn’t said it aloud.

  Still, smoke was strange. And concerning.

  Especially since they’d learned that there was currently a prison work detail on the island.

  A fact that had increased their sense of urgency to get out here. With inmates cleaning up the island, any evidence that might have been left behind could very easily be collected with the rest of the trash.

  “Just be careful, okay?” Elly’s words penetrated the concerns running through his mind.

  “Always. Why don’t you pray about it? You know you’ll feel better if you do.” It always felt weird suggesting to Elly that she should pray. Elly, of all people.

  “I have been.”

  Yes, that was definitely smoke. “Hey, El. I need to go. I love you.”

  “Love you, too. And be careful.”

  Zander terminated the call and slid the phone into his pocket, his gaze riveted on the smoke.

  What had been a thin trail had grown to a small column. The color had changed from a hazy light gray to a deep charcoal.

  Not only was something burning, it was going up fast.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Rafe’s gaze strayed once again to where Rush had disappeared up the trail. What was going on?

  Wind swirled around him, ruffling his hair. Smoke irritated his nose.

  Smoke?

  He scanned the area. Where was it coming from?

  A thread of smoke rose from a cluster of trees.

  No, not from the trees. Beyond the trees. But still definitely on the island.

  Something was on fire.

  That was messed up! What if the fire grew? There was nowhere they could go, except into the ocean.

  They were trapped.

  The guards noticed, too. One of them grabbed the radio clipped to his shoulder.

  Probably letting Rush know…

  An explosion rocked the quiet morning.

  Rafe ducked. Not that the explosion was anywhere near them, but instinct kicked in before he could think it through.

  Most of the other inmates, as well as a few guards, had done the same.

  Black smoke roiled into the sky.

  What had exploded? It would’ve had to have contained some kind of combustible content to create a plume like that…

  Wait. Wasn’t that about the place where the boat had docked?

  As much as he wanted to stand up and take a better look, he didn’t dare. Fresh tension hung as heavily as the smoke. It wouldn’t take much for one of the guards to shoot him at this point.

  Cortez, the guard closest to him, cursed loudly, snatching the radio from his shoulder. “The boat! It’s gone.”

  The truth sank in his stomach like their ride off this rock no doubt was sinking in the bay right now.

  Without the boat, how would they get back to the mainland?

  They each carried a bottle of water, but all other provisions had been on the boat.

  He fought to pull in air.

  Relax. They were only a few miles off the coast. Rush had a cell phone or some way to communicate with the outside world. The other guards probably did, too. They’d call for help and be off this place in no time.

  The bigger question was what had caused the explosion in the first place–

  Pop-pop-pop!

  Gunfire!

  Each of the guards whipped out a weapon but didn’t start shooting.

  Those gunshots had come from down the trail, maybe close to the dock.

  More popping confirmed what Rafe knew he’d heard.

  There was definitely a shooter on the island. Maybe more than one, from the number of gunshots.

  Worse, those last shots had been closer than the first.

  Cortez waved his gun toward the prison. “Everyone up! Move, move!”

  Half the inmates had risen before the command was issued.

  The guard at the head of the group led the half-run
ning inmates, while the other guards formed a rough mobile perimeter.

  A shock of pink further down the trail caught his attention.

  The girl!

  She hobbled up the path toward them, her shoulder length hair bobbing.

  She wasn’t making great progress. Was she hurt?

  “Garcia! Keep moving!” Cortez, who was bringing up the rear, gestured for him to continue forward.

  Somewhere along the line, his steps had slowed.

  But he had to help that girl, right? She’d be toast if he didn’t.

  Which meant he’d have to trust Cortez.

  Although, in light of the explosion and gunshots, Cortez didn’t seem so bad right now.

  God, what do I do?

  He wasn’t an expert on prayer – in fact, he was still training himself to turn to God instead of trying to bull ahead on his own – but he knew that Josiah always went to God when things were uncertain.

  No booming voice answered, but he really felt like he had to help her.

  He nodded. “Hey. We gotta help her, man.”

  Cortez looked back and cursed again. “For all we know, she might be the shooter.”

  “You whacked or somethin’? She ain’t involved.” At least, he didn’t think she was. “She’s a scared kid.”

  “How do you…?”

  They didn’t have time for this. The gunfire had stopped, but the shooter – or shooters – were still out there. “I saw her, alright? I’m gonna help her. Do what you gotta do.”

  He brushed past Cortez and headed for the girl, praying he wouldn’t take a bullet to the back from a grumpy guard.

  Part of him expected the girl to bolt, but she continued her slow progression toward him.

  Probably figured that he – or at least, the guards – was a safer option than the shooter.

  He’d almost reached her when she stumbled. A small cry escaped her as she landed on her hands and knees on the asphalt path.

  Closing the last few feet, he reached down to her. “Lemme help you.”

  She shrank back.

  Not surprising. The orange jump suit he wore pretty much promised that he wasn’t someone to be trusted.

  “I’m ain’t gonna hurt you.”

  More gunfire sounded from somewhere to his left. Maybe further away than the last time, but it was still too close.

  This wasn’t that big of an island.

  Tears brimmed in her brown eyes as she reached for him.

  He grabbed both hands and jerked her to her feet. It took a few stumbling steps before she found her footing, but once she did, she was clearly favoring her right ankle.

  Whether the shooters were close to their location or not, they didn’t have time for her to leisurely limp toward safety.

  Moving to her right side, he ducked under her arm and placed his own arm around her back. “Lean on me. Hurry.”

  Cortez glared at him as they passed, but said nothing.

  The rest of their group was out of sight.

  Hopefully they’d made it someplace safe.

  With any luck, he, Cortez, and the girl would make it there, too.

  More gunfire. Sounded like multiple guns this time.

  God, please let us make it.

  They rounded a bend in the path.

  It seemed he supported more and more of her weight with each step. He was pretty sure he was dragging her by now. But as long as they made it somewhere safe without being shot, she’d probably forgive him.

  He glanced over his shoulder at Cortez. “Where?”

  Cortez’s gaze never stopped moving. Those alert eyes, that seemed to see everything and had irritated Rafe on more than one occasion, now might be the ticket to saving their lives. “Main cellblock.”

  Rafe looked at the massive stone structure in front of him.

  It was a stronghold, for certain.

  But it was also a prison.

  Well, as long as it didn’t become a morgue, he could deal with that.

  Now to find the entrance.

  He flinched at the sound of a single gunshot nearby.

  A few seconds later, Rush, Underwood, and the skinny kid burst around the far corner of the building.

  If they were coming from over there, it clearly was not the way to go. Rafe headed the opposite direction.

  Pounding footsteps told him they were all right behind him.

  “Hold on.” A man’s voice, kinda high and young. Had to be the kid.

  He glanced over to see the kid on the other side of the girl. The kid ducked under her other arm.

  Rafe’s burden lightened.

  “Switch. What happened?” The girl’s voice contained a breathy quality that betrayed her fear.

  “Later.” The word puffed out.

  Reaching the corner, they slowed. Underwood pushed ahead of them and peered around.

  A quick nod and he disappeared around the corner.

  They all followed.

  A time-weathered structure was ahead to the left, a lighthouse not far beyond it.

  The prison entrance was across the path from the lighthouse.

  They were going to make it.

  Movement in his peripheral!

  He turned his head.

  A man, dressed in camo gear, aimed a gun their direction.

  “Gun!”

  Underwood turned.

  A shot pierced the air, followed by another, and another.

  Rafe dragged the girl and her skinny friend to the ground with him.

  Two more gunshots, then nothing.

  Was he dead?

  No pain. But was there pain in death?

  Silence ruled as the echo of the gunshots faded.

  “Come on, keep moving.”

  A shadow fell across him as Rush swept by.

  Rafe pushed himself to his knees. Over by the lighthouse, the camo man lay lifeless on the dirt.

  As did Underwood.

  Rush knelt next to the fallen guard, his fingers going to the man’s throat.

  Seconds dragged until Rush’s hand fell away. He slipped the gun out of Underwood’s limp fingers and removed the guard’s radio. “There’ll be more of them coming. We need to get inside.”

  Rafe knew without asking that Underwood was gone.

  Staggering to his feet, he reached down to help the girl.

  Cortez hovered nearby, poised for action, while Rush held the door open and motioned for them to hurry.

  The short distance seemed to take forever to cross.

  Rafe stepped inside. Dank air seeped into his bones.

  The place smelled like death.

  Rush closed the door behind them.

  The lock required a key to engage, which meant that locking the shooters out wasn’t an option.

  He looked around the small entryway in which they stood. Concrete walls all around, a doorway yawning open straight ahead.

  Nothing they could even push up against the main entrance to block the doors.

  Although, really, how did they know that there weren’t more gunmen inside? What if they sealed themselves in with killers?

  “You call for help?” Sweat trickled down Cortez’s forehead, catching in eyebrows that looked like a pair of caterpillars.

  Rush’s face held an uncharacteristic grimness. “The shooting started before I could make the call.”

  So no one on the mainland even knew they were in trouble out here.

  Great.

  God, we could really use some help. Could You make sure we don’t all die?

  Even though he knew his soul was finally ready, he didn’t want to die yet. He still needed to make things right, with so many people on so many levels. Zander topped the list. Why hadn’t he taken Josiah’s advice and talked to Zander when he’d had the chance?

  Now, it might be too late.

  Something told him that Underwood and the enemy dude outside were only the beginning of the day’s casualties.

  Seven

  “Report!” Oksana’s sharp comma
nd bit through Viktor’s earpiece.

  “I saw guards.” Nikolas was the first to respond. “And inmates. Looks like some kind of prison work crew.”

  Viktor cursed.

  A prison work crew? What happened to a couple of maintenance guys?

  He glared at his sister. Shouldn’t she have known about this? Done more research or greased more palms or something? She was so insistent on running this whole thing, but she’d screwed this one up.

  Big time.

  “How many?” Oksana sounded almost as displeased as he was.

  “I counted three guards and one inmate, but I’m sure there are more. Two of the kids from last night are with them.” A brief pause. “I took one guard down, but not before they shot Anatoli.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “Holed up inside the prison.”

  At least the cell phone jammers were all activated. Should keep the guards from calling for help.

  The silence lengthened.

  “What else?”

  “Engaged with the enemy. Took out two of them.” While Viktor didn’t recognize the voice of the man who answered Oksana, the accent identified him as one of theirs.

  “Good.” Oksana pursed her lips. “I want two snipers watching the dock. Convince anyone who might try to land there to think twice. Two men in the lighthouse. Let us know of anyone incoming. Three scouts to cover the trails and take down anyone who’s not with us. The rest of you, with me. We’re going to take the prison.”

  She assigned the tasks to specific men, then went silent.

  Splitting up the men like that was a good strategy, but taking the prison? What was she thinking? Their objective was below ground, not inside the relic dominating the island. “What about the weapons?”

  “We’ll get the weapons. But those guards are armed. We need to see what we’re up against.” She shook her head slowly. “Besides, we might need the added labor force that the inmates can provide. Surely there are a few of them who would welcome the chance to ditch the rest of their sentence. I’m going to make them a… proposition.”

  “You’re gonna arm a bunch of cons?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be moronic. Of course not. They’ll help us load the crates.”

  Might work. Depending upon how many inmates there were, and what they were capable of, this could help them move the merchandise in half the time.

  “And if they won’t join up?”