Monster Island(73)

I nodded absently, too busy cataloging the island’s assets. The hangars were full of unarmed cargo helicopters. There were a few Coast Guard cutters bobbing in the water but they were useless to us. Gary wasn’t about to just come down to the water and let us blow his head off with a.50 caliber machine gun. I spotted a few things that might come in handy, including a fully equipped armory replete with M4s and small arms and made a mental checklist to go over with Jack when he arrived. If he arrived.

We made camp on the lawn. At first I was tempted to sleep in one of the yellow officer’s houses or even in one of the barracks buildings but when night fell they became infinitely creepy. There’s something about being inside a windowless room with no electricity that truly bugs my modern soul. The girls didn’t mind camping rough at all-it was what they were used to back home. They kept Kreutzer under guard all night but mostly left him alone. We made a big campfire and ate bread and thin porridge-our staple foods.

“There’s not a bean or a f*cking carrot left on this dunghill,” Kreutzer informed us as he tore into the flat loaves ofcanjeero the girls grudgingly offered him. “That’s what happened to Morrison.”

“I was wondering when we’d get to that,” I said.

Kreutzer nodded. “Morrison got hungry faster than I did. He was a big guy, liked to lift weights when he was off duty and he needed more calories I guess. He took a Rigid Hull Inflatable Boat and headed over to Staten Island to resupply. That was two weeks ago. I don’t expect to see him again.”

“And what about you? You were just going to starve here?”

Kreutzer scooped a fingerful of porridge out of a pot and stuffed it in his mouth. “I’d rather not eat than get eaten. I could have left any time I wanted but where would I go? Until I saw you over at the ferry slip I thought I was going to f*cking die here.” He handed the pot back to Fathia. “Thanks,” he said.

I woke to the sound of water slapping the side of a cutter and a fresh breeze that lifted my eyelashes and played with them. I was grinning, stupidly grinning because I felt so good. Then I sat up and remembered everything. Pulling my pants on I started looking around for a latrine when I heard a buzzing sound coming from the water.

It was Jack.

I don’t know where he got a jet-ski in New York but he was wave-running hard for the coast. I ran down to the water and waved my arms and whistled and finally he saw me and cut in to meet me. I held a hand down and helped him climb up onto the boardwalk. He took off his life vest and unzipped the tote bag he’d used to keep his weapons and gear dry and then finally he said hello. “He took them to Central Park. I couldn’t get very close-the wind was blowing toward them and they would have smelled me, but I saw them enter the Park. There’s something going on there, something huge and I have no idea what it is. I can’t just go in there guns blazing and hope to rescue anybody. That’s what I’m going to do, though.”

I nodded sagely. I badly needed to urinate but I also wanted to show him something, something that just might solve his problem. I lead him around the back of a hangar and let him see the thirty-foot trailer crowned with radar dishes and the four coffins-slang for the storage crates of the UAVs.

“Good,” he said, and started prying open the coffins.

“Jack,” I asked, because the question had been bothering me, “why did you send us here? How did you know Governors Island was deserted?”

He stared at me. “I didn’t. For all I knew this place was crawling with the dead. I just knew you could handle yourself regardless.”

“We could have been headed into a trap!” I cried.

Jack looked to one side and then the other. “Looks like you did fine. Now help me with this crate.”

David Wellington - Monster Island





Monster Island





Chapter Six


The controls for the Predator RQ-1A Unmanned Aerial Vehicle were simple enough. They’d been designed for the average 21st Century soldier and were a near replica of the gamepad for the Sony Playstation. You used one thumbstick for the throttle and the other to steer while vehicle systems were mapped to the face and shoulder buttons-raising the landing gear, moving the nose-mounted cameras and so on. Child’s play, I figured. I had studied the weapon system back in the old days, back when I had a life and a career. I felt confident and alert as my little plane leapt into the air off Governors Island and streaked toward Manhattan.