Page 87 of The Final Storm
“Storms will pass, and my people will come back,” Milo shoots back. “We’ve been through worse.”
“No, you haven’t,” Sam corrects. “Not like this one. I’ve seen it. You’re going back to the Galene.”
“I said I would,” Milo growls. “My question is what to do with the three fucks left.”
We’re silent, and I’m catching up, letting the two men decide where we go from here.
“Get on the boat,” Lori grumbles at Tank and Luke, diverting my attention.
They come on board, and she gives me an exasperated look. “I’ll… fill you in later,” I say. It’s too much, and she looks relieved at the idea.
I reach for Morgan, and Luke pulls her back. “You are…” He waves a hand over me. I look down and see that I’m covered in blood.
“Oh, well, if you could hold her a bit longer,” I admit.
“That’s probably best,” Luke smiles. “Everyone below. Let’s head to the Galene and get the fuck out of here.” He hands Morgan to Hank and the boys descend, BeLew giggling, smiling at Luke’s use of fuck.
I give up.
Sam steps over with a forlorn expression. “The men left - they’re tied up,” he explains. “Milo’s going to take them with him to the Galene.”
I nod. “I think that’s the right thing to do. If they were part of the two hundred, they didn’t have a choice.”
“I’m not sure, but it’s not our problem. We’re leaving for the underground, and the faster, the better.” Wind bites at my cheeks, and my eyes cast to the grey skies barreling our direction.
I don’t recognize the men as we throw them on the deck, hands tied behind their backs and ankles, wrapped in rope. But I recognize the wear of passengers starved and forced to survive under Dean’s command. This is all we can do to help them. They’ll have a chance, and that’s the best we’re able to offer.
The boat jolts back and spins around. We all struggle to keep on our feet as Sam speeds toward the Galene.
The men stare at the blood-soaked ground, growing pale.
“Lindell’s dead,” I yell over the waves and wind.
“Does he know?” one man questions.
Without asking, I understand he means Dean. I take a radio from Sam’s pocket.
“Does he need to? What was your plan?” I ask, waving the radio.
“I can tell Dean we have you,” the man says. He nods his head to the radio. “You can even tell him yourself, so he’ll believe it.”
“How close is he?” Sam yells.
“Less than an hour. He’s on his way,” the man warns. “Give me a radio.”
I reach to hand it to him, and Sam grabs my arm, stopping me short. “Are you sure this is the right choice? Are you going to talk to him?”
“I’ll just scream or something,” I shrug. “No big deal.” My smile doesn’t reach my eyes. The last thing I want is to hear Dean’s voice, but I don’t have a choice. An hour is so close, and we need to slow him down and throw him off our trail.
Luke asks them the frequency and Sam slows the boat around the hull of the Galene. It opens to a familiar scene. Men with guns, wary of us, but this time they look out past us, at the looming storm.
“Before we get in,” Milo says. Sam nods and fiddles with the radio.
Dean’s voice comes out on the other line.
“Do you have her?”
There’s static and Luke raises his gun to the hostage’s face when he hits the button to speak. A silent warning that he won’t tolerate any betrayal.
