Kathy Reichs - Code

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PPG—Don’t follow!

I’d scrawled a second message in my notebook and tossed it on the dock: “I have Coop!”

Best I could do.

I knew it was terrible. What parent could read those words and not panic? We’d set sail for an evacuated city, on an open sixteen-foot boat, with a Cat Four hurricane breathing down our necks. A bad action movie, starring his daughter.

I’ll make it up to you, Kit. Somehow .

Despite the early hour, the sky was darkening fast. The gusts were growing wetter, stronger, heavier, and more frequent. As if sensing landfall, Katelyn thundered and hissed. Tense minutes passed before the marina finally hove into view.

Ben cut our speed and we glided up to a row of quays. He chose a berth well away from the handful of other boats still at dock. Then we wasted twenty precious minutes tying Sewee down with every available rope in the Lowcountry.

Finally satisfied, Ben led us up to the street. Coop’s tail wagged in happiness at being back on dry land. That went for everyone.

No more distractions. We had a psycho to bag.

Walking quickly, we crossed Lockwood to Calhoun, turned left onto Courtenay Drive, and headed north through the medical district. The streets and sidewalks were empty. Houses and businesses were boarded with plywood, or protected by metal storm shutters. Few lights burned in the gloom. The city had a creepy, abandoned feeling, like a war zone or a postapocalyptic future.

A blast of sodden wind slammed me from behind and nearly sent me sprawling. An early taste of the nightmare to come.

Katelyn must be entering the harbor. We don’t have much time .

As we reached Spring Street, rain began falling in bands. Fat droplets smacked my forehead, face, and cheeks. I leaned forward for balance as a series of gusts ripped down the sidewalk. Head lowered, I scrunched my hood tight.

“This is the southern boundary of zone G .” Hi was shouting to be heard. “It’s small, like Tory said. If the Gamemaster lives here, his F-150 should be parked on one of the next three blocks.”

“Unless he’s got a garage,” Shelton griped. “Or left town with the sane people.”

“If he has a garage, why buy a street permit?” Hi countered.

“This is pointless,” Ben yelled. “Let’s go look.”

“We’ll walk up Norman,” I said, “then cut back and forth, working a grid until we locate the truck.”

“Should we split up?” Ben gestured left, then right. “Spread out to cover more ground?”

Before I could answer the sky opened up, drenching us in a salty deluge. Visibility shrank to a few dozen yards. Coop whined and shook furiously.

“Let’s stick together.” I scratched the wolfdog’s ears. “The Gamemaster is armed and dangerous. We shouldn’t separate the pack for any reason.”

“Should we light ’em up?” Hi glanced at the angry sky. “We might need our flare strength sooner than you think.”

“Not yet.” Though I was tempted. “We can’t risk burning too soon. We’ll need our powers when we corner this snake.”

“Any plan for that bit?” Shelton asked dully. “You keep glossing over how we’re actually gonna make the citizen’s arrest.”

“Of course.” I chucked his shoulder. “We’ll improvise.”

“Great. Well thought out.” Shelton pulled his hoodie tighter around his face.

A burst of wind barreled up Spring Street, fluttering streetlights and rocking stop signs. Rain blew horizontally, needling my skin and stinging my eyes. This time the velocity held steady, refusing to die back down.

Hurricane Katelyn had arrived.

Hi circled a finger above his head. “Move out.”

With Ben leading, we hurried up the block and turned left onto Ashton. Pacing down a line of row houses and modest residences, we checked every driveway, carport, and curb. No black truck.

At block’s end we turned right, advanced a street, and worked our way back. Coop trotted at my side, alert but uncertain, pausing now and again to shake rain from his coat.

Cheap duplex apartments lined the left side of the road. A small grocery store sat midway up on the right.

I slogged to the store and stepped under the awning. Gusts tore at my windbreaker, forcing the hood back and filling it with rainwater. I gave up trying to keep the sodden thing on my head. Hand-shielding my eyes, I squinted down the block.

And saw it.

My heart began thumping triple time.

“What now?” Hi shouted.

“ Now we break in.”

I pointed at a wooden row house a dozen yards from where we stood.

At the black F-150, parked in its backyard.

CHAPTER 54

“BEN, YOU AND Shelton slip around back. Get a look through that window.”

I gathered my sopping hair into a ponytail. The wind and rain had doubled in intensity. Trash and bits of debris were cartwheeling down the street, rising and spiraling, then dropping only to lift back up again. Bottles and bags began shooting along the gutters.

Our grace period was over. We were caught in a full-blown hurricane.

Huddled beside the grocery, we formed a game plan. Coop’s eyes were white and round with fear. I held his collar so he couldn’t dart away.

“Why do I have to scout?” Shelton whined. “I suck at sneaking up on people!”

Ben backhanded rain from his face. “I thought you said no splitting up?” His thick black hair was pasted to his scalp.

“Just this once, and only for a few seconds. We can’t let the Gamemaster spot us all together. We’d lose any element of surprise.”

“Can we flare?” Hi was red-faced and breathing hard. “We need to be ready.”

I hesitated. What if the Gamemaster wasn’t home?

Then this whole adventure was pointless .

“We need to be sure he’s in there,” Ben said. “We only get one shot.”

I nodded. “No flares yet. You two go first. Head for the truck. Hi and I will count to thirty, then buzz the front of the house. If you spot the Gamemaster, whistle twice. Otherwise we’ll reconnect in the backyard.”

“You won’t hear a whistle in this.” Ben gestured to the chaos swirling around us. “Or anything else.”

“Then just sit tight wherever you are. If we don’t see you in the driveway, we’ll keep circling the house and link up by the truck.”

“What about Coop?” Hi kept his gaze on our target.

“He stays with me.” I grabbed the wolfdog’s snout and looked him in the eye. “You hear that, dog breath? By my side.”

Coop licked my hand.

Impossibly, the gusting kicked up a notch, making it difficult to even stand up straight. I braced myself against the store’s wall and prayed for a lull.

Time was up. We’d need to seek shelter in minutes.

After what seemed like an eon, the wind’s force dropped a fraction. Everyone struggled to their feet.

I gave Shelton a reassuring hug. “Good luck.”

“Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.” Shelton blinked through water-blurred lenses. “At least if the Gamemaster kills me, my parents won’t have the chance.”

“Stay close.” Ben squeezed Shelton’s shoulder. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

Bending into the wind, they disappeared behind the rear of the store.

A powerful blast stripped a Miller Lite sign from the wall above my head. I watched the metal square careen across the street, slam into a car, then spin sideways and vanish into the gloom.

Hi and I silently counted. At thirty, we worked our way around the front of the store. At the corner of the building, we stopped to survey our objective.

The one-story row house was small and decrepit, its faded blue paint cracked and peeling. The exterior was a neglected eyesore of warped wooden slats, loose shingles, and dirty windows.