Ghost Key (24 page)

Dominica’s first impulse was to attack these government boys en masse, seize all of them. But she realized that would make her look scared and weak. Besides, she could use this to her advantage. The locals wouldn’t be able to leave. It would now be easier to control the town.

“Terrorists?” She laughed and kept on laughing, and pretty soon the other
brujos,
obviously surprised by her reaction, started laughing, too. “People, we’re
terrorists
.” Dominica threw out her arms, welcoming the idea. “They’ve just conferred the deepest honor on our tribe. This country is so terrified of terrorists it forces its own people to go through machines at airports that render them naked. And when the passengers refuse, they’re subjected to what amounts to sexual molestation. Terrorists are so feared that the military here invades other countries with impunity and pours trillions into their war machines while their own people are unemployed and hungry and losing their homes. Can you believe the favor they’ve done us? They have no idea what real terrorism is. We’re going to teach them that.”

“You’re right,” Whit breathed. “My God, you’re absolutely right, Nica.”

The
brujos
stole glances at each other, still confused. “But what will we do about food?” asked Luz. “Our hosts have to eat.”

“We have plenty of food in the market for the time being. But we’ll be sending groups of you out to raid the empty homes and bring back whatever food you find. The important thing is that with the island quarantined, those people who haven’t yet been seized won’t be able to leave. They’re trapped. We’re practically assured of victory now. A
brujo
enclave in the U.S. of A.”

“I’ll organize the food-hunting expedition,” said Joe.

“What about the bitch who started the fire at Annie’s?” asked another
brujo
. “Has she been caught?”

“Not yet,” Whit said. “But we’re going to double up on our search for her at first light.”

“With our new additions, Whit, where do our numbers stand?” she asked.

He thought a moment. “Three hundred and nine.”

“Let’s see if we can push it to four hundred by nightfall.” As soon as she said it, she felt the net trembling with excitement. Open season on humans. “But for now, the restrictions about children under the age of sixteen still stand. And no bleed-outs, please. We would have to put those bodies in freezers, and right now we need the freezers for food. Gogh, we’re going to need specific groups to perform specific jobs other than food hunting and searching for Kate Davis. I’ll give you a list of what needs to be done, and you work with Joe and Whit in picking out who does what. I’ll need a couple of
brujos
without hosts to go out to the fourth bridge and see what’s actually going on.” She turned to Luz. “How many Coast Guard cutters are we talking about?”

“Probably between five and eight. It depends on how much area each boat is supposed to patrol.”

“Any idea about what other kinds of reinforcements are being used?”

“My host only knows about the Coast Guard.”

“Well, we’ll find out. You can find accommodations for your hosts either here at the hotel or in one of the empty homes on the island. Once you’ve done that, report to either Gogh or Whit so we can assign you to one of the task groups. Any questions?”

Silence.

“Excellent.” She gestured at Whit, Gogh, and Joe, and the four of them walked out of the courtyard. “Gentlemen, this is the best news yet. But we have to move quickly and efficiently.” Never let it be said that her defeat in Esperanza had taught her nothing. “Our biggest challenge will be food and controlling the food and supplies we find in the empty homes and restaurants out on Dock Street. Everything should be brought to the Island Market and to the hotel. We may have to implement restrictions of some kind. Any members of the tribe whose hosts are fishermen should be put to work off the docks and beaches. Let’s haul in as much fish as we can.”

Whit said, “By the way, the two trucks that left already with a haul of debris have been turned back at the roadblock.”

“Then we need to find another spot for the debris to be dumped.”

“I know just the place,” Whit said. “The airport runway. You and I can drive the trucks out there, Nica, and make sure these government types who are quarantining us can’t land any planes.”

“Brilliant. Let’s get it done before the sun rises.”

The task proved more arduous than she thought it would be. The runway was long and there was so much debris, some of it still smoking, that it took them half a dozen trips to cover most of it. A chopper might still be able to touch down, but only if the pilot was crazy.

Mixed in with the debris, of course, were body parts. Dominica thought they would attract vultures, rats, roaches, and other vile creatures, so she forced Maddie to walk into the debris to look for body parts and to deposit whatever she found in plastic bags. She resisted immediately, as soon as she plucked up the first bone, and fought hard to seize control of her body, struggled to scream, to hurl the bone. Whit stood there, laughing and shaking his head, enjoying the show. Dominica struck her nerve centers, causing Maddie such excruciating pain that her knees buckled and she rolled through the scorched wood and dust screaming.

*   *   *

Maddie
scrambled onto her virtual couch, unable to resist or fight any longer, unable to hurl her consciousness outside of herself. Her body continued on without her participation, hands picking up body parts—a severed arm, a foot, a hand missing two fingers, a scorched leg bone—and dropping them into a green garbage bag.

The stench permeated her virtual world, the smell of death she had lived with all these months, the stink of Dominica. The
bruja
always had claimed that she couldn’t possibly emit an odor, that she was just consciousness. But the reek of rotting eggs and decay was so pervasive that Maddie didn’t think she would ever be rid of it. And it finally drove her out of her body, a screaming nothingness without mass or weight, invisible to the naked eye.

The rising sun punched a burning hole in the horizon. If she thought herself into that fiery orange hole, maybe she would emerge in some other universe where Dominica had never existed, where
brujos
were just the stuff of legends, fairy tales, the darker side of Disney. In that universe, she might be in vet school by now, following the path she had intended after her grandmother had moved her to Key Largo, after she had become a runner and a vegan and lost sixty pounds. But then, she never would have seen Esperanza, lived there, experienced the magic of knowing a shapeshifter, of living among people who, as Spock used to say, “lived long and prospered.” She never would have understood the true nature of good and evil or of a reality with all its twists and strangeness.

Yeah, all of that was good. But in that other universe, she wouldn’t be a prisoner in her own body, either, her sanity hanging by a thread so fragile that one more incident like this might break her.

Even now, as she soared through the gathering light, she considered not returning to her body, letting Dominica have it. Who cared? So what if she died? She wouldn’t get stuck as Charlie and the chasers, Dominica and her ghosts, had. She would take up yoga in the afterlife, become a vegan again, find a mentor who would help her wade through all the mistakes she’d made in her short life, a mentor who would help her choose her next life, the right parents, the right circumstances that would enable her to achieve her spiritual and creative potential. Or something.

She felt a sharp, insistent tug at her left and followed it to a neglected building behind a barbed-wire fence. Several waterfront acres spread out around the building and as she drifted in for a closer look, she saw animals in cages, birds in a huge aviary. A zoo? Not on the island. This appeared to be the animal sanctuary she’d heard about—but had never seen before now. She dropped to the ground on virtual feet, in her virtual body, surprised that she didn’t have to do anything to create this body, to maintain it. Was this how her grandfather Charlie did it?
Think yourself into being.

Far above her, a bird cried out, and when she looked up, a sparrow hawk was spiraling toward her. It touched down on the roof of the building, staring at her as though it could really see her. Was that possible? Why not? She lived in a world of impossibilities.

Maddie stuck her nonexistent fingers in her nonexistent mouth and let out a shrill, sharp whistle. The hawk flew upward, circled her, then landed right at her feet.
It sees me, hears me.

The bird keened and suddenly the door of the building slammed open and a tall, handsome kid barreled out. Rocky, Kate’s son. And the hawk, of course, was Liberty. She had seen them several times at the hotel, and Dominica, she remembered, was afraid of the hawk for some reason. Rocky was obviously hiding out.

“Liberty,” he whispered, and the bird flew over to him and landed on his outstretched arm. “I knew you’d come back. I knew it. I’ve … got a little food, sandwiches and stuff the employees left in the fridge, and bottled water. I started to … to leave last night, but heard all the sirens and shit and … and…” Then his face collapsed in on itself and his eyes filled up and he started to cry. The hawk keened and inched its way up his arm to his shoulder and then ran its beak gently through his hair, a caress.

It was a strange and heartbreaking sight. Maddie quickly lifted up, away from the kid and the hawk, and thought of Sanchez, Wayra, Sanchez, Wayra, either one, an ally, please. She ended up near one of the uninhabited islands off Cedar Key, and swirled down through the mangroves to a houseboat. Wayra was sitting on the back deck, a laptop balanced on his thighs, his bare feet pressed against the railing. An empty plate and a mug of coffee were on the table. He seemed very intent on what he was reading.

Maddie touched down next to him and shouted his name. He flinched, that was all. He didn’t look around, didn’t really hear her. He merely felt
something.
She stood in front of him and leaned into him, shouting his name again. This time he looked up, blinked his large, dark eyes. “Maddie?”

Yes, yes, right here, it’s me.

But he couldn’t see her, couldn’t hear her. Not like Sanchez could. With Sanchez, it was like having a conversation. With Wayra, it was a game of charades.

“Wayra?”

Kate padded out onto the porch in jeans, a pullover sweater, and bare feet. She held a wrench in one hand, pliers in the other. “Can you give me a hand here? I’m trying to soup up the engine so we can get across the water fast as soon as it’s dark.”

“That won’t be for another eleven or twelve hours, Kate.”

She shrugged. “I know. I just feel the need to do
something
productive.”

“Then let’s fit a couple of those electric engines to canoes. You’ve got three of them in your storage area. No noise. Less cumbersome than moving the houseboat.”

Her arms dropped to her sides. “Good idea. But I’d still like to ramp up the houseboat’s engine. Be prepared for … well, whatever.”

“Sure thing.” Wayra pushed up from the chair. “We could try going over while it’s still light out, working our way from island to island, but there would still be vast stretches of open gulf where we’d be exposed.”

“I’m resigned to waiting until dark,” Kate said.

Kate, can you hear me?
Maddie stood between her and Wayra, frantically waving her nonexistent arms at Kate.
Hey, I’m here.

Nothing. Not even a flinch. Maddie moved into the doorway, but Kate walked right through her.

As soon as Wayra went inside the houseboat, Maddie soared away, frightened now that even Sanchez wouldn’t be able to hear her. She sought the luminous thread that had led her to him before, but something interfered with her ability to locate him, a low humming, a buzzing, that disoriented her. For a while, she drifted aimlessly, struggling to focus on his energy. She needed to connect with him, with someone who could hear her. She finally narrowed her search to a densely wooded area on the far side of the island.

In there, you’re somewhere in there.

As Maddie descended through the trees, the buzzing noise ebbed. She slipped through branches, deeper into shadows, and landed as lightly as a leaf on the ground. She smelled smoke, then food, and wondered how she could smell anything at all. She followed the scents to a clearing deep in the woods. Tents and old rusted trailers encircled a campfire, barefoot kids and dogs ran around, several men and women cooked over large aluminum pots and pans, and two other adults were setting the food on a long table. Here and there in the trees, Maddie caught sight of heavily armed guards.

It looked like a gypsy encampment and she sensed that none of these people had been seized yet. She would have to shield this memory from Dominica. With the quarantine in place, these people and any others who hadn’t been seized would need to be extremely careful.

Sanchez, Sanchez,
she thought, turning slowly, waiting for a tug in one direction or another. She finally felt it, coming from straight in front of her. She moved past the campfires, the long table set with platters of fish, grits, home fries, coffee. Two dogs barked at her, but neither of them followed her. She couldn’t tell if they actually saw her or just sensed her. The hawk had definitely seen her. Why could the hawk see her but not the dogs? What about other animals?

She paused in front of one of the guards, a Rambo type with tattooed arms the size of tree trunks, and clapped her virtual hands inches from his face. No reaction. She noticed his weapon. She was no gun expert, but she’d watched enough movies to recognize the sucker as an AK-47. So despite the nomadic appearance of this camp, these people were apparently well-armed. She wondered how much they knew about
brujos
.

Maddie moved on, following the tug, and entered a thicker part of the woods. She found Sanchez fishing from a shallow bank with a skinny guy with a gray ponytail. Except for the AK-47 next to the old man, they looked like a couple of Huck Finns. Fortunately, they were fishing in an inlet and the trees shrouded them. She walked over and sat on the ground next to Sanchez. Jessie whined and Sanchez immediately glanced to his left, where she was sitting.
Red?