Ever Hayes - Redemption

A voice booming over the intercom system interrupted me. Flynn and I both jumped. “One hour to departure.”

“Nothing like him,” I said, nodding as Flynn pointed up toward the sound of the voice. One hour? Why are they leaving early? That didn’t give us much time to get everything in place. We had to get moving.

We headed over toward Chase and Lazzo. “So… Cassandra huh?” I elbowed her.

“Don’t get me started on that now. Dad’s choice, of course. He wanted Cassius—compromised with Mom on Cassandra. I haven’t gone by it in years.”

“Didn’t like Cassie?”

Flynn shook her head. “I didn’t want anything close.”

“And Chase is—”

“Evander.”

I snorted and covered my mouth. “No.”

Flynn laughed, nodding. “Yep.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, looking at Chase who had overheard the tail end of this conversation.

“Tell me about it.” At least he was smiling.

“Boxing names?” What else could they be?

“It’s his favorite sport,” Flynn muttered coldly. “Just ask Mom.”

I understood the reference to the captain’s violent nature. “I wish I could,” I replied, trying to put a positive spin on it instead.

She turned and looked at me. “You’d have loved her.”

“I’m sure I would have.”

Anyone who’s ever taken one of those tests with instructions to read all the questions first—and then take the test—knows how hard it is to actually do it. The questions at the beginning are so easy—they beg to be answered. They get longer and more complicated but it’s hard not to keep answering them—to just finish the test. And then—at the end—there’s a line that simply says, “Do not answer any of the questions. Write your name on the paper and turn it in.”

The first time I took one of those tests, I failed it. I was a junior in high school. I felt like an idiot. The directions were so simple. In a class of seventy-two students, I was one of four who failed that test. Three of us ended up in the Marines—whatever that says. I promised myself then, that if given the chance to take another test like that, I’d do it right. I’d pass it—like I should have the first time.

Reading the instructions left for me at the gate in Kauai felt like taking one of those tests. At the first line—“Go back to the boat and take it to Pearl Harbor”—I was ready to take off, but I kept reading. I didn’t leave. Not right away. I read the instructions all the way through to the bottom —and then read them all again. I didn’t want to miss a single step. Like typos on prescriptions—every single word could be the difference between life and death.

The note was, again, handwritten in perfect English.

Take the boat and book to Pearl Harbor.

Do not return to or contact anyone from your island.

You are not to talk to anyone in Oahu.

Take a plane and fly to Colorado.

You must exchange the book for your sister at Knight’s Peak.

(Coordinates: N 38.72527 and W -104.94581.)

When we have confirmation we have the book, the prisoners will be released.

You may take a pilot with you. No one else.

We will have eyes on you until you are beyond Hawaii’s surveillance scope,

so do not try to fool us, or your sister and friends will die.

If you are caught, your sister and friends will die.

If you do not have the book with you, you will have to retrieve it immediately AND we will kill one of the hostages now.

Reveal the book or speak the name of the hostage we should kill.

Then leave.

I looked up at the camera extremely thankful I had the book. “You’re asking an awful lot, you know. How do I know Hayley is still alive? How do I know you haven’t already killed the girls?”

Reagan’s voice replied from a speaker somewhere near the camera. “Danny, she’s alive. We’re all okay. They haven’t touched the four of us.”

Four? I looked down, hoping my reaction to the word four hadn’t been obvious. It was dark out here. Maybe that was enough. There are four prisoners in there? Who else? “Reagan—”

“No more. The book.” A deep robotic voice had replaced Reagan’s.

“I have it but not on me.” I continued before anyone could interrupt me. “If you have the surveillance you say you do, you know I brought someone with me from the island and that she’s waiting for me at the marina. She has the book. You can’t think I’d be foolish enough to bring it here alone, but I’m also not hiding anything from you.”

“You were to come alone.”

“I brought someone to help me with technology. I know nothing about technology. Absolutely nothing. I didn’t bring anyone else here with me—just her. I was hoping you’d let her go with me. What you’re asking me to do…trust me…I know how important it is. But I can’t get through all the radar and defense systems on the mainland alone. There’s no way. And if you need me to—if you expect me to do this, to get the information to—”

“Fine. Just her and a pilot. Now… the book. Have her hold it up to the camera on the G pole in the parking lot.”

“You understand I have to activate my communication unit?”

“Do it.”

“Keena,” I spoke into my headset. “Find the lamp with a G on it and hold the book up towards the surveillance camera.”

A minute later the voice was back. “You have passed the first test. Now go.”

I turned toward the Jeep but stopped and turned back to the camera one last time. “I know you can see me, and I know you can hear me. I’m trusting that everything you say is true. If you want to live, they better all be okay when I get back.”

I knew my words meant nothing to them. They weren’t afraid of me. I said it for the benefit of Reagan and the girls, on the off chance they were listening. I needed to keep them believing there was a way out, so they didn’t try anything foolish. I knew full well the captors had no intention of keeping the girls alive in the end. You don’t take prisoners in a war like this with the thought of ever letting them go. You don’t kill four hundred million people and suddenly change course for three girls—or four, whoever the fourth prisoner was.

Of course, I hadn’t told Tara that. Hadn’t said it to anyone. The rest of the Pack probably figured as much and followed my cue. They didn’t bring it up. From what we’d gathered in military training, we knew Tara would probably never see Emily again. The captors would keep the prisoners safe until they knew I had delivered on my end, and then the captors would disappear. They’d have no reason to keep the girls alive. It’s not pessimism when it’s reality.

But the same writing wasn’t necessarily on the wall for Hayley. If I could get to her, there was a chance she could make it through all of this. A lot of that was going to be up to Lazzo, and I couldn’t help but feel there had to be more to this story I didn’t know. I was holding out hope on my end that Lazzo was being forced to do this and that there was an alternative to killing Hayley. Maybe he’d take me for her if he needed one of us. I was only going after her because I still believed I could save her. If I thought she was dead, I’d never risk the transaction I was expected to make. This book in the wrong hands would mean the permanent end to America. I had to figure out a way around that to save Hayle—and pray for a miracle. I was also putting my faith in a man I believed was good, even if he had killed Sam. There has to be more to this story.