Second Nature

Chapter 58

58 

As soon as the Land Rover reached the bottom of the hill, Cade shifted to four-wheel drive and left the roadway. They crossed a ridge of dunes onto the hard-packed sand at low tide. Newpod sat in the front passenger seat. Lana sat in the backseat with Haven lying across her lap, and kept her hands pressed to the sucking wound in Haven's chest. Cade drove slowly, without headlights, and gave a thumbs-up as he rolled by three soldiers in spacesuits like his own. Then he turned north and headed toward The Palms, forcing himself to creep along. 

"Lana, call Jimi. Tell him we're on our way." 

"I can't. I'm afraid to take my hand off the wound." 

"Which pocket?" 

"Left." 

He watched in the rearview mirror until the soldiers disappeared behind them. Then he stopped the car and popped off his helmet, tossed it to the front floor. He unzipped the double layers of the suit, clamped his teeth on the fingertips of his right glove and tugged his hand out, then contorted his shoulder and worked his arm out of the sleeve. He leaned back between the bucket seats, dug into Lana's pants pocket and grabbed the phone. He stepped on the gas again, steering with his gloved left hand, shifting with his phone hand, pressing the number buttons with his right thumb. 

Jimi answered the phone in the middle of the first ring. "Cade?" 

"We're on our way." 

"What the hell was all that gunfire?" 

"Weston's man shot Haven. Chest wound. It's bad." 

"Good lord, let's get her to a hospital." 

"Quarantine-they're not letting anyone off the island. We've got to find Gen, or she's not going to make it." 

"Gen? How can we find her? She could be anywhere." 

"Your underwater speaker phones. We go out in the gulf and call for help." 

Jimi said nothing. 

"We try, goddamit," Cade said. "It's our only hope." 

"Okay, I'm with you. But we need a faster boat, to cover more area." 

"Frankie's boat moored near you?" 

"Uh...yeah, I see it. Three slips over." 

"Can you carry the broadcast equipment over by yourself?" 

"I'm on it. I'll meet you at his boat, slip 14-A." 

Cade tossed the phone onto the passenger's seat, not bothering to hang up. He glanced in the sideview mirror. The field hospitals had shrunk to specks in the distance. He flipped on the high-beam headlights and floored the gas pedal. The Land Rover raced up the northern arm of the crescent beach, toward the glittering lights of the yacht club. 

* * * 

Jimi staggered along the dock under the weight of an underwater speaker the size of a water cooler. He shuffled down three steps onto the wooden runner alongside Franklin Hauser's Donzi ZX speedboat, Miss Behavin'. Three V-8 stern drives made the long and narrow, sharp-prowed racer a water rocket. Many times Jimi had watched the all-black boat scream by at top speed. In the No Wake Zone.  

Frankie stood in the forward cockpit of his boat with two blonde women who sported matching thong bikinis. The three had their backs to Jimi. Frankie propped his elbows on top of the windshield, watching the military operation on Stanton Hill through binoculars. Jimi plunked the speaker down with a bang and Frankie and the women spun around.