Phil Williams - 2050 - Psycho Island

Summer rushed for the gun. At the same time, the man went for the gun, but Summer grabbed it first. Derek reached under his poncho, grabbed his knife from the scabbard attached to his hip, and plunged it into the man’s neck. When Derek retracted the blade, arterial spray spurted from the man’s neck, spraying Derek in the face. The man collapsed to his knees, holding his neck, trying to stem the tide of blood.

Summer froze in place, déjà vu passing over her, a vision of Derek killing Connor with one swipe of his sword.

The alarm sounded, and the overhead lights turned on, waking Summer from her stupor, nearly blinding her after spending so much time in the darkness. They heard shouting and heavy footfalls.

“We’ll never make it on foot,” Derek said. He opened the driver’s side of the nearest BRV. Derek pressed the Start button, and the dashboard came to life.

Summer slipped the handgun in the front pocket of her cutoff fatigues.

Derek and Summer shoved their bags of batteries in the back of the truck. Men entered the garage. Derek and Summer hopped into the front seat of the BRV. A handful of men ran toward them. Derek reversed the big truck, running over two men with rifles. They fired on the armored truck, but the bullets didn’t penetrate. Derek reversed wildly again, causing the men to scatter; then he floored it going forward, only to slam on the breaks in front of the garage door.

“How do we open this thing?” Derek asked, frantically looking for something on the dashboard that resembled a garage door opener.

Summer looked too, feeling helpless. A half-dozen men approached from the rear cautiously. Summer looked at the garage door and saw a big red button that read OPEN. “There,” she said, pointing.

Derek looked in back. He glanced up at the turret, spotting the large machine gun mounted on top. “I’m gonna get into the turret. As soon as I start shooting, go hit that button.”

Summer nodded, fear coursing through her veins.

Derek went into the back and climbed up the turret.

Summer glanced in the sideview mirror. The men crept closer. Objects are closer than they appear . Summer heard a chick chuck , then the whirring of the turret motor as Derek turned to face the men behind them. Derek opened fire. The men scattered, taking cover. The gunfire was thunderous, louder and deeper than the handgun.

Summer opened the vehicle door and ran to the wall, smacking the red button as gunfire echoed around her. She ran back to the BRV, shutting the door behind her. Derek returned to the driver’s seat and drove outside, the turret nearly clipping the rising garage door. He turned to the right, driving in the mud and grass, and stopping at the edge of the berm. Rain pelted the truck.

Summer opened the door and yelled, “Get in!”

Rifle fire came from the guards at the gate. Behind them, the Neta guards also shot at the truck. Bullets pinged against the armor. Javier and Gavin jumped into the back seat, and Derek rammed on the accelerator, the BRV spitting mud as they drove from the old army base.

Summer glanced in the sideview mirror, wondering if the Netas were chasing them, but the rain obscured her view.

Gavin was hunched over, wheezing.

“He’s shot,” Javier said.

Summer grabbed her first aid kit and moved from the front to the back. He was shot in the chest, right through his lung. The entry wound wasn’t too bad, but when she felt for the exit wound, she shuddered. The exit hole was as big as her fist. Summer held Gavin as the life drained from his body.

Javier freaked out. “Is he dead? Is he dead?”

Summer turned to Javier and nodded, tears in her eyes.

They knew they couldn’t drive back to El Morro. The old Spanish fort resided on the islet of Old San Juan. The bridges that had connected Old San Juan to San Juan had been destroyed by the hurricanes. They made the short drive back to their canoes, through knee-high flooded roads, pushing debris from the roadway with the heavy-duty vehicle.

Derek cut the lights when the port was in view. Summer didn’t see lights behind them, but that didn’t mean the Netas weren’t chasing them. Derek parked tight to the jungle, partially concealing the vehicle.

“Let’s hurry,” Derek said.

“Don’t you give a shit that Gavin’s dead?” Summer asked, her voice quivering, and her face streaked with tears.

“Get the batteries and the guns.” Derek exited the BRV.

Summer slipped out from under Gavin, her hands and poncho dark red with blood. She stepped from the vehicle, grabbed the handgun from her pocket, and pointed it at Derek. “Don’t fucking move.”

Derek stopped in his tracks, his expression empty, his shoulders slumped. “Go ahead. Do it.”

The gun shook in Summer’s hand.

Javier walked around the truck, a backpack filled with batteries on his back, and a duffel bag full of batteries in hand. He dropped the duffel bag, staring at the barrel of Summer’s handgun. “What the hell are you doing?”

“He killed Connor,” Summer said, tears mixing with raindrops.

“Put the gun down!” Javier said, standing next to Derek, but not moving in front of him. “He’s not the enemy.”

Summer lowered the gun, her jaw clenched tight.

Javier stepped to her and took the gun from her grasp. “We have to go.”

Derek reached into the BRV, searching Gavin. He took Gavin’s handgun and tucked it behind his back. Then he grabbed the remaining two bags filled with batteries. Lights appeared in the distance. It had to be the Netas. They were close.

“We can’t leave him here,” Summer said.

Javier glanced at the lights in the distance. “There’s no time.”

Derek picked up two bags full of batteries and hurried for the sea containers. Javier and Summer grabbed the other bags and followed, leaving Gavin in the BRV. They dragged the canoes to the water’s edge and loaded them with the batteries. Javier and Summer were in one canoe, Derek by himself in the other. The lights were getting closer. They heard shouts in the distance. Thankfully, they were obscured by the darkness and the sea containers. Javier pushed their canoe into the water, jumping into the back as he did so.

The water was still rough, but they were going with the current now. The earlier trip took three hours, but the return trip took only an hour. They beached at the rocky point. They carried the batteries in their backpacks and duffel bags, with plans to come back for the beached canoes. They expected to see their men on the wall, keeping watch, but nobody was there. As they hiked along the bottom wall, toward the back entrance, Derek stopped them, and put his finger to his lips.

Despite the constant drumbeat of rain on the stone, faint voices carried outside. Derek set down his duffel bag and removed his heavy backpack. He removed Gavin’s handgun from the small of his back. He approached the back entry and peered around the corner. His head immediately retracted. He returned to Summer and Javier.

“I saw two Aryan men inside,” Derek said, his voice low.

“Jesus,” Javier whispered back.

“Can you shoot?” Derek asked, looking at Javier.

He shook his head.

“Can you?” Derek asked, turning his attention to Summer.

She shook her head.

“It has to be one of you. There’s no one else.”

“I’ll do it,” Summer whispered.

“Lemme see that pistol,” Derek said to Javier.

Javier handed the semiautomatic handgun to Derek. He released the magazine, checking the ammunition. Derek inserted the magazine and checked the chamber. Then he removed the revolver from the small of his back and replaced it with the semiautomatic handgun.

Derek narrowed his eyes at Summer. “You gonna shoot me?”