Year One (Chronicles of The One #1)(53)

No one stopped them. Once outside, the night was eerily quiet. Katie told herself the sounds she heard in the distance were backfires, not gunfire. Backfires.

“Get two of them in slings and hold on to the third.” Jonah opened the rear doors. “I’m going to drive fast, and I may have to maneuver.”

“We’ll be fine. Need help, Katie?” Rachel asked.

“No, I’ve got it.”

Once Katie had the sling on, the baby in it, Jonah passed her Duncan.

“Won’t take long,” he said again, then closed the doors.

He got behind the wheel, touched a hand to the gun he’d strapped to his hip.

Whatever it took.

One of the babies woke and let out some fussy cries as he pulled out, but the movement soothed it, Jonah supposed. He drove fast, avoiding the expressway. He’d done a couple of test runs, and there was no getting through on major roads.

He slowed for turns when he could, but he knew the sounds he heard for what they were. He wouldn’t risk having a bullet hit the ambulance or one of his passengers.

He heard the sirens, saw the flashing lights barreling toward him, and his heart thudded. But it passed at ridiculous speed, nearly sideswiping the ambulance.

Not cops, he’d seen that. Just as he’d seen, in his mind, the wreck, the blood, the broken bones seconds before the driver lost control and flipped going around a turn.

He didn’t stop. He had purpose. Only one purpose.

He swerved when a man ran into the street, tried to grab the side door. And saw death, terrible death, before an enormous wolf leaped out, clamped gleaming teeth on the man’s throat. The single high-pitched scream snapped off like a light.

“Jonah.”

“We can’t stop.” He flicked a glance back at Rachel. “We’re nearly there.”

The ambulance squealed into the marina, bumped along beside the dock. “I moved the boat earlier tonight. A lot of them are gone, some of them are wrecked. Same deal here. Get out, straight to the boat, straight down to the cabin. It’s warmer.”

Safer, he hoped.

He hit the brakes, shoved out to rush back to open the doors. He snagged bags, grabbed Duncan.

“Fast!”

He led the way through the near dark.

“There. White cabin cruiser, red lettering: Patti’s Pride.”

He tossed bags onto the boat, then picked up Katie, got her over the side. “Take Duncan, go straight down.”

“I’ll deal with the lines,” Rachel said before he could grab her. “My father had a boat—it’ll be faster.”

He nodded, pulled the baby out of the sling—he’d forgotten which was which—and got on board.

“Cast off, cast off.”

Rachel unhooked the bow, jogged back to the stern. She heard footsteps running toward her, a quick cackle of laughter. She whirled, prepared to fight. But there was Jonah, an infant in one arm, a gun in his other hand.

“Back off.”

The man, his hair blowing in the wind under a pirate hat, grinned. “Avast! Just want a taste.”

“Touch her, and you’ll find out what a .32 slug tastes like in your throat. Rachel.”

Quickly, she unhooked the line, boosted herself on board. She took the baby, spoke calmly. “I’ll pull us out.”

She hurried to the wheel while Jonah stood, watching the man make feints toward the boat, do a jig.

“You don’t need two wenches! Share the spoils, laddie! Share the spoils.”

As the boat pulled away, he feinted again, lost his balance, and tumbled off the dock. He surfaced, cackling and trying to paddle after them.

Jonah saw death in the man, but not by drowning. He turned away, went to Rachel.

“Take the baby down.”

“Do you know how to steer a boat, and in water this rough?”

“I’ve been out on it plenty. Patti let me drive it a couple times.”

Rachel kept her legs braced against the pitch of the boat. “Give Katie the baby. I’ve got the wheel, you navigate. Keep the gun handy.”

He couldn’t argue, not with the way she handled the boat. “We’re going across the Narrows, around the west tip, and up the Hudson.”

“All right.” As the boat pitched, she held steady. “To where?”

“Not sure yet. Let’s say as far as we need to. I fueled it up, so as far as we need to.”

He went down to the cabin where Katie sat on Patti’s narrow daybed, cradling two infants. He laid the third beside her.

“You’ve got three babies to tend to. I’m going up with Rachel, but if you need help, call out.”

“We’ll be fine.”

Under his feet, the boat rocked. “Remember the ambulance ride? This may be like that.”

“We’ll be fine,” she repeated.

He went back up, stood beside Rachel.

“Are they patrolling the rivers?” she asked him.

“I don’t know for sure. I don’t know why they would at this point, but the world’s fucked-up crazy.” Icy fingers of wind slapped at his face, roughened the black water. “There might be more like that idiot back there, but in boats. We’re going to want to avoid everyone, and we’re going to need to push for speed if we can’t avoid.”