Mega 5: Murder Island Read online

  “Ballantine can be convincing,” Mike said.

  “It wasn’t Ballantine,” Lucy replied. “It was Darren. He and Bobby had a thing. He brought her in, Bobby brought me in, the rest is nightmarish history.”

  “But not boring,” Mike said.

  The two sighed together once more.

  “I’m bored,” Mike said and Lucy laughed.

  The laughter died when it became obvious that the B3’s engines had just cut out.

  Captain Martin “Marty” Lake stepped out of the bridge, pulled off his shirt, and stretched. He looked up and saw Lucy and Mike staring down at him.

  “Out of fuel,” Lake stated. He twisted his back, the loud pops from his vertebrae echoing out across the water, mopped his brow with his shirt, then stepped back into the bridge.

  “That’s not good,” Mike said.

  Lucy shrugged. “But predictable.”

  ***

  “If these islands are intact, and haven’t been destroyed by my nuclear admirer, they are still not viable options,” Ballantine said. “While I am not a fan of the skull and crossbones motifs, that is a silly quirk from Carlos, the symbols are representative of the danger these islands pose.”

  “Being sitting ducks for whatever enemy of yours is hunting us poses quite a damn bit of danger,” Thorne grumbled.

  “Oh, the person is not hunting us,” Ballantine responded. “Far from it. They are flushing us out.” He tapped at the screen in the table. “Keeping us from going to ground so we have to pop up somewhere. My fear is this person wants us to pop up on one of these islands. That increases the risk exponentially. The islands alone are more than we can handle.”

  “Team Grendel has been through a lot,” Darren said. “I think we can handle another of your scary islands.”

  Ballantine chuckled. “You haven’t even begun to see scary.”

  The temperature in the room dropped a good ten degrees with that statement.

  “Explain,” Thorne ordered, cutting through the icy mood. “Knock off the covert secret crap and tell it to us straight so we know what we’re getting into.”

  “You aren’t getting into anything,” Ballantine said. “None of you are listening to me. These islands are not viable options. Any one of these would kill us in hours. All of us.”

  “Why?” Thorne asked. “Tell us why, Ballantine.”

  Ballantine began to balk, but shook his head instead and sat back down. He waved one hand at the screen in a dismissive manner while he rubbed his forehead with his other.

  “I know it will come as a great surprise to most of you here, but I have been known to make a few mistakes now and again,” Ballantine said. He forced a smile. No one joined him. The smile faded. “These islands, or what is on these islands, are where I hide the mistakes. Uncharted, unknown, far enough away from any wandering mariners to keep my mistakes hidden and the world at large safe.”

  “Which is the least dangerous?” Dana asked. She pointed at one of the skull and crossbones symbols. “This one?”

  “Not hardly,” Ballantine said. “The plant life is carnivorous.”

  “I’ve dealt with man-eating plants before and survived,” Kinsey said.

  “Not like this,” Ballantine said. “When I say carnivorous, I mean predatory, sentient, vines that hunt, flowers that murder, trees that move in packs. It was a bad idea, and I realized it just before it was too late to shut the project down. No one goes to that island.”

  “Maybe it’s best your admirer does find these,” Thorne said. “He or she can nuke them and take them off the board.”

  “That wouldn’t be a bad thing,” Ballantine said. “But there is no way these islands can be discovered.”

  “Why is that?” Thorne asked.

  “I killed everyone that worked on them,” Ballantine stated. “Except for myself and Dana, there isn’t a living soul on Earth that knows about them. No records, no files, no maps, nothing. They do not exist.”

  “Except right there,” Thorne responded, pointing at the screen. “They exist right there. So there is a record.”

  “Are you suggesting that the B3’s systems have been hacked?” Ballantine asked.

  “I’m suggesting that your armored world has a chink in it and you aren’t noticing,” Thorne said. He shrugged. “You’ll need the elves to tell you if the B3’s systems have been hacked.”

  “We have no evidence of that,” Dana said. “As far as we know, these are still completely hidden, which makes them our only options unless we want to expose ourselves. That would not be a good idea. You are all wanted by more international authorities than I can count. Not to mention possible allies of my former organization. We make land anywhere and we’ll be noticed.”

  “Any favors you can call in, my dear?” Ballantine asked her. “Find us a temporary sanctuary for a week so we can resupply and be on our way?”

  “If I had any favors like that left, I wouldn’t be here,” Dana replied.

  “Excellent point,” Ballantine said.

  “What about you?” Darren asked Ballantine. “Any last favors you’re keeping in your pocket?”

  “I believe I have spent them all,” Ballantine said. “I miscalculated and expected us to be lounging in comfort on an island beach, safe and sound from prying eyes and threatening forces.”

  Ballantine froze. His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward to study the screen.

  “Which one is it?” Dana asked. Her eyes locked onto Ballantine as the man focused on the screen. “Which is the least dangerous?”

  Ballantine shushed her, and surprisingly, she did not bristle or argue with him. Everyone in the conference room remained quiet as Ballantine’s mind worked.

  His finger hesitated over one island then another. For someone as guarded and psychologically controlled as Ballantine, it was almost unsettling to watch him work through the problem in such an open manner.

  “Not this one,” Ballantine said as he tapped the island then swiped it off the screen. “Toxic. Even the elves would have a hard time coming up with something that could keep that out. No good.”

  “Keep what out?” Darren asked.

  “That. It. Doesn’t matter,” Ballantine said. “Not an option.”

  He swiped two more off the screen, a full body shiver going through him as he did so. No one asked why.

  “These two…?” he mused as his hand hovered over the possible choice. “If a gun was to my head, maybe.”

  He tapped them and tossed them to the bottom of the screen.

  “We have a maybe pile,” Kinsey said. “That’s a good sign.”

  “I said only with a gun to my head,” Ballantine responded. “If you would like to be the one to brandish the firearm, by all means, go for it, Ms. Thorne. I will fight back.”

  “Jesus, calm down, Ballantine,” Darren said.

  “No and no,” he continued, tossing two more off the screen. “Certainly not this one.” Another was lost.

  “That leaves two,” Thorne said. “Which of these two are we going to try?”

  “I have not decided if we are trying either of them,” Ballantine said. “All I am doing is narrowing the field from instant death to slow, painful death. With slow and painful, at least some of us may survive.”

  “Survive what?” Popeye De Bruhl asked as he limped into the conference room. “What’s going to kill us now?”

  “Whatever is on these two islands,” Darren said and pointed at the screen.

  “The table has a screen?” Popeye asked.

  Short, thin, bald, with massive forearms that were covered in tattoos, Popeye looked almost exactly like his cartoon namesake. Except for the prosthetic leg. That was different.

  “Has the table always had a screen?” Popeye asked.

  “Is there something we can help you with?” Ballantine asked. “We are busy, Mr. De Bruhl.”

  “Who isn’t?” Popeye shrugged. “Lake sent me in to tell you all that the ship is out of fuel. We’re dead in the water unt
il we get temporary sails rigged.”

  “We’ve done it before,” Darren said.

  “Go below and check with Carlos and Ingrid,” Ballantine said. “They may have an alternative power source we can run the engines with.”

  “You think I didn’t already try that?” Popeye asked. “You think I wanted to walk into this room and interrupt this cheery meeting of yours?”

  “They could not help?” Ballantine asked.

  “Am I not being clear?” Popeye snapped. “No. They could not help. That’s why I’m here telling you we are out of fuel and won’t be going anywhere until we rig temporary sails.”

  “Very well,” Ballantine said. “Thank you for delivering the message.”

  Popeye stood there, unmoving, his muscled arms across his chest, his squinty eye even squintier.

  “Is there more?” Ballantine asked.

  “We need to rig sails,” Popeye stated. “I don’t have nearly enough crewmen to do that. Not after what that giant ape did to half of them. I have three men left. Three.”

  “I see,” Ballantine said. “That is unfor—”

  “What I’m saying is I need all hands on deck,” Popeye snapped. “Everyone in this room is getting dirty today and won’t stop working until we have this ship underway again.”

  “Mr. De Bruhl, while I appreciate your drive, I do not think you understand the seriousness of what we are trying to work out here,” Ballantine said.

  “When was the last time any of you stepped out of this conference room?” Popeye asked.

  “Why would that be relevant?” Ballantine asked.

  “What’s wrong?” Thorne asked, moving towards Popeye.

  “Maybe you folks should step out on deck and see for yourselves,” Popeye said.

  He left the conference room with everyone staring after him.

  ***

  “That showed up fast,” Mike said as he lowered the binoculars and handed them back to Lucy.

  She set them on the floor of the crow’s nest and nodded.

  “Has to be moving at sixty knots,” Lucy said. “It’ll catch up to us before lunch.”

  “Where is everyone?” Mike asked then pointed. “Ah, Popeye wrangled them.”

  They looked down to see those from the conference room empty out onto the deck and stare off at the horizon. It wasn’t hard to hear the cursing coming from most of them, especially Thorne. Lake stepped back out of the bridge and laughed. Ballantine frowned at him, but it only made him laugh harder.

  “Come on,” Mike said and climbed onto the ladder. “We’re not going to be needed up here.”

  “This is going to be close,” Lucy said, following Mike down to the upper deck.

  “How fast?” Thorne was asking Lake as they come up on the group.

  “Seventy-three knots, last reading,” Lake said. “If it stays that way, then it’ll be on us in less than five hours. Popeye tell you we’re out of fuel?”

  “That is why we’re standing out here, Captain Lake,” Ballantine said.

  “You’re out here because you wouldn’t listen,” Popeye snapped then left to go bark orders at the three crewmen standing down on the main deck.

  “We’ll need everyone working on the sails and rigging,” Lake said. “This ship ain’t built for it, but we’ve done it before. Carlos has something for us and is bringing it up right now.”

  “Hopefully, he’s moving fast and with some urgency,” Dana said.

  “Even if he is, we won’t outrun that,” Darren said.

  “But we may be able to skirt it,” Lake said. “Stay on the outer edges and only get half our ass handed to us.”

  “Your optimism is always appreciated, Captain Lake,” Ballantine said.

  “I’m optimistic that you can kiss my ass, Ballantine,” Lake said. He pointed at Ballantine’s clothes. “You may want to change into something more practical. This isn’t a Dockers kind of job.”

  “I’ll be fine in what I’m wearing,” Ballantine said. “I am intimately familiar with the work involved.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the conference room.

  “We need somewhere to go more than ever,” Thorne said.

  “I am well aware of that,” Ballantine responded.

  “It’ll need to be the closest island, not the safest,” Thorne said.

  “Yes, Commander, I have already deduced that,” Ballantine said. “That narrows it down quickly.”

  “Care to share what island it is?” Darren asked.

  “And what horrors are hanging out there?” Kinsey added.

  “Horrors?” Lucy asked. “What do you mean by horrors?”

  Ballantine waved her question off. “If everyone keeps their wits, and what’s on the island stays on the island, then we might be able to survive. I make zero promises.”

  “That’s something new,” Lake said. “You’re always filled with BS promises.”

  “I seem to have run out, Captain Lake,” Ballantine said. “It happens to the best of us.”

  “We should get to work,” Thorne said. “Ballantine, you give Lake the island’s coordinates so he knows where we need to go. Kinsey, go below and get your cousins and Ronald. They’ll be able to help rig the sails.”

  “Gunnar?” Kinsey asked.

  “If he’s not busy with Darby,” Thorne said.

  The mood soured even more and half the group looked down at their feet.

  “Will there be facilities for her?” Kinsey asked Ballantine. “Somewhere Gunnar can do a complete work-up to see what’s wrong.”

  “I do not believe anything can tell us what is wrong with Darby,” Dana said.

  Heads snapped around and eyes glared.

  “All I am saying is what afflicts Darby is possibly beyond any of our expertise, even with the proper facilities,” Dana said.

  “You know something,” Thorne said, he whipped around and pointed a finger in Ballantine’s face. “When Darby started to lose it, you said you didn’t know what was going on with her.”

  “No, I said that I didn’t know what was wrong with her,” Ballantine corrected. “Which is 100% accurate. I don’t. Neither does Dana.”

  “But you have an idea of what is going on, don’t you?” Thorne accused.

  “He doesn’t,” Dana said. “Neither do I. Let’s just say we have experience with Darby’s occasional madness.”

  “Occasional madness?” Thorne snapped. “She is a member of Team Grendel, an integral part of this crew, and has saved our asses more than once! You didn’t think it would be wise to clue me in on any possible bouts of madness?”

  “I trusted you that your daughter would not be a problem,” Ballantine replied. “I expect the same trust when it comes to Darby.”

  “I’m not sure you even know the meaning of trust, Ballantine,” Thorne said. “Kinsey! Go get your cousins! The rest of you, let’s get to work!”

  He shoved past Ballantine and stomped down the stairs to the main deck. Everyone except Ballantine, Dana, and Lake followed.

  “Oh, sure, when he gives an order to get to work, they listen,” Lake grumbled. “I am the captain of this damn ship.”

  “And you are doing a fine job, Captain Lake,” Ballantine said, patting him on the shoulder. “A fine job.”

  “Can I speak to you?” Dana asked Ballantine. “In private?”

  “Not now, dear,” Ballantine said. “I have to go get my hands dirty.”

  He sauntered down the stairs in a way only Ballantine could do.

  “You married that?” Lake said, shaking his head at Dana. “You must be as crazy as he is.”

  “I’m not sure anyone is that crazy,” Dana said and left Lake to stand outside the hatch to the bridge.

  “That doesn’t make me feel better!” Lake called after her.

  ***

  “Shane, we need to get Max and Ronald and head up on deck,” Kinsey said as she found Shane coming out of the infirmary. “Storm’s coming, the ship’s out of fuel, and we’re rigging sails a
gain, just like after the EMP.”

  “Max is out,” Shane said. “I can find Ronald, but Max isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Why? What happened?” Kinsey asked.

  “Darby,” Shane said. He waved her towards the infirmary door. “Follow me.”

  She hurried in after him and stopped as she saw Gunnar leaning over Max’s calf, sutures in hand.

  “Hold still,” Gunnar snapped.

  “Maybe if you’d given me more local anesthetic, I could,” Max said. “Or you were better at stitches. You keep pulling too hard!”

  “Your calf muscle keeps pressing against the skin!” Gunnar snarled.

  “What the hell?” Kinsey asked.

  “Oh, hey, Sis,” Max said as he lay on his stomach on a surgical table, propped up on his elbows. “Shane tell you what happened?”

  “Not yet,” Kinsey said.

  “Darby,” Max responded. He nodded at the gurney in the corner where a thoroughly strapped down and unconscious Darby lay.

  “Shane said that much,” Kinsey said. “Fill me in.”

  Max filled her in. Kinsey was quiet for a while then shook her head.

  “She’s getting worse,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Max agreed. “She is.”

  “I have her sedated as much as I can without risking brain damage,” Gunnar said. “But we’re running out of sedatives. As soon as she comes to, she’ll fight those restraints and either get out of them or hurt herself trying. She doesn’t quit. Ever.”

  “That’s my lady,” Max sighed. “Never say die unless it’s someone else doing the dying.”

  “Okay, I’ll let my dad know what’s up,” Kinsey said. She nodded at Shane. “We still need you and Ronald up on deck to help. Huge storm coming and we don’t have much time.”

  “Do we know where we’re going yet?” Shane asked, eye wide with hope.

  Gunnar and Max looked at Kinsey, the same look in their eyes.

  “Maybe,” Kinsey said. “Ballantine thinks he knows an island that won’t kill us right away if we’re very careful.”

  “Awesome,” Shane said, sounding less than thrilled. “As long as I have a chance to kill something before it kills me, then I’m good. What are we killing?”