SYLO

SEVENTEEN

The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow over the calm ocean.

It was beautiful, but in this case beautiful was bad. As far as I was concerned, the sun couldn’t drop fast enough. There was no telling how long it would take the SYLO soldier to free himself and let Granger know that the three of us were on the loose and on our way to the mainland. Our best hope of getting out of there undetected was under cover of night. If we left too soon we’d be spotted for sure. If we waited too long, somebody might come sniffing around, wondering why our pal in the basement hadn’t checked in. It was going to be a race.

Tori reached up to the telephone that hung in her kitchen, pulled it off the wall, and yanked the jack off the end of the wire. At least when the soldier got free, he wouldn’t be making any calls.

“Smart,” Quinn said. “Any more phones?”

Tori shook her head. She grabbed two heavy coats that were hanging by the back door and threw them to us.

“It’s gonna get cold,” she said with cool efficiency.

They must have belonged to her father because they had the faint smell of the sea. Or maybe it was lobster. What they didn’t smell like was lemons. That was Tori’s deal. She picked up the shotgun and peered out of the window for the twentieth time, hoping, like us, that it had gotten significantly darker since she had looked twenty seconds before.

“Can you navigate?” I asked Tori. “I mean, I don’t want to end up in Greenland.”

She shot me a withering glare. It was all the answer I needed.

“I think we’re making a mistake,” Quinn said.

“Seriously?’ I shouted. “Now you’re having second thoughts?”

“No. I’m just saying we’ve got to do all we can to make sure we get there.”

“It’s not rocket science,” Tori snapped. “We head due west and pray they don’t see us.”

“But we can increase the odds of getting there and getting the word out,” he said.

“How?” I asked.

“By taking two boats,” Quinn announced with conviction. “Tucker and I spent the whole summer pulling traps for the Willards. I can handle either of those boats. You and Tori take one, I’ll take the other.”

“You want to go alone?” I asked, incredulous.

“Not really, but with two boats there’s a better chance of one getting through.”

“That’s a bad idea,” I said dismissively. “We shouldn’t risk both of the Sleepers’ boats.”

Tori laughed. “Are you serious? My father’s been arrested, killers are hunting for the three of us, and you’re worried about risking a couple of boats?”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

Tori flipped open a bench on the porch, pulled out two ICOM walkie-talkies, and tossed one to Quinn.

“They’re charged and good for about twenty hours. Range is good. Maybe twenty nautical miles. Stay on channel twenty-one.”

Quinn examined the device and powered it up. He didn’t need any instructions.

“I don’t like this,” I said nervously. “We should stay together.”

“No, he’s right,” Tori said sharply. “This is as much about getting the word out as about escaping. With two boats we’ve got double the chance.”

“Then I’ll take the solo boat,” I said.

It was Quinn’s turn to laugh. “No offense, Tuck, but with your navigation skills you’d be lucky to end up in Greenland.” He looked at Tori and added, “The one time he took the helm of the Willards’ boat, we ended up stuck on a sand bar for six hours waiting for high tide.”

“Well, you’re not exactly Magellan either,” I snapped at Quinn. “We’re talking about navigating five miles of ocean in the dark with the Navy hunting for us. Are you seriously up for that?”

Quinn chuckled nervously. “Jeez, don’t sugarcoat it. Of course I’m not up for it, but what choice do we have? I can get there.”

“Then I’ll go with you,” I said.

“No,” Quinn snapped quickly. “Stay with Tori because, well, because—”

“Because I’m a girl,” Tori said sarcastically. “It doesn’t matter to me. Go with your friend.”

I looked at the two of them, horrified that we had come to this point. I had to make a decision…go with Quinn or with Tori. I’m not sure why I made the choice I did because Tori had way more experience on the water than both of us put together. But it didn’t seem right to let a girl go by herself, which meant she was absolutely correct about my thinking.

“I’ll go with Tori,” I said softly.

“Whatever,” she said and strode off the porch. “I’m tired of waiting. Let’s go.”

She walked quickly across the scrubby grass that was her backyard, headed for the docks.

“Jeez, Quinn,” I said. “Aren’t you scared?”

“Terrified,” he responded with a nervous chuckle. “But I’m more scared about what’s happening right here. At least out there we’ve got a chance.”

“Has it come to that? Do you really think Pemberwick is…what? Doomed?”

Quinn looked out at the lagoon and watched Tori step onto the dock and board the forward boat.

“Doomed? I don’t know. But we’re in serious trouble,” he said with no trace of his usual sarcasm. “Whatever it is that’s happening here, I think it’s wrong that we haven’t been told the truth. If it’s as bad as we think it is, or even if it isn’t, we have the right to know. Getting out of here and reaching people on the mainland will force the truth to come out.”

“Yeah,” I said soberly. “If we make it.”

Quinn gave me a playful shove and said, “We’ll make it. We’ll have lobster rolls at Newick’s and hold a press conference. I like the idea of being a hero.”

I chuckled, but my heart wasn’t in it.

“So you’re going to get your wish,” I said.

“What wish?”

“You’re going to leave the island and do something people will remember you for. I never doubted you would. I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”

“What can I say? Destiny calls. I’ve already got the name picked out for the story I’m going to write about this adventure.”

“Really? What is it?”

Quinn gave me a beaming smile and said, “The Pemberwick Run.”

I had to smile too. “I like it.”

“I’m telling you, we’re going down in history, man. And it won’t be the only time,” Quinn said, with more than a touch of cockiness.

“I don’t doubt that either,” I said.

“Look, Tuck, I like it here too,” he said, turning serious. “I might complain and say I want to kick the sand out of my shoes and live in the real world, but Pemberwick is my home. I like the place. I want it to be home again.”

“Me too,” I said.

“Then let’s make it happen.”

He reached down and picked up the soldier’s pistol. It was an automatic, like a Walther or a Glock.

“You know how to use that?” I asked.

Quinn shrugged. “Let’s hope I won’t get the chance to find out.”

We hurried down the porch steps and followed Tori’s route to the dock.

The boat with the red wheelhouse, the Tori Tickle, was tied up in front of the older boat with the navy blue wheelhouse, the Patricia. Tori was on board the Tori Tickle, preparing to get under way.

“Help me with these,” she commanded and started tossing over the lobster traps that were stacked to the stern. “We don’t need them to be slowing us down.”

Quinn and I caught the traps and stacked them on the dock. We had plenty of experience with lobster traps.

“Yeah,” Quinn said, scoffing. “The extra weight might keep these fine vessels from outrunning one of the Navy’s high-powered gunships.”

I didn’t laugh at the joke.

Neither did Tori. She stood with her hands on her hips, staring at Quinn.

“Sorry,” he said. “Just trying to keep it light.”

“Can you start those engines?” she asked.

“I think so,” Quinn replied.

“Then do it.”

Quinn gave me a quick look, rolled his eyes, and headed for the Patricia while I helped Tori offload the rest of the traps.

“I get Tori Tickle,” I said. “Who’s Patricia?”

Tori took a few seconds before she answered.

“My mother,” she finally said with no emotion.

“Oh.”

They say that it’s bad luck to change the name of a boat, but I couldn’t imagine keeping that particular name, bad luck or not. It would be a constant reminder of the person who had abandoned her family.

“It’s because my father still loves her,” Tori said. “In case you were wondering.”

“How do you feel?” I asked.

“I don’t,” was her quick answer.

It was not a good subject to get into on the verge of making a suicidal escape, so I dropped it. When we finished unloading the traps, Tori stood up and scanned the lagoon. Dusk had settled in. The sun was finally giving up the day.

“We gotta get going,” she said. “It should be dark enough by the time we clear the lagoon.”

Quinn fired up the engines of the Patricia and they caught with a throaty roar. Each of the boats had powerful twin diesels. They were built to be working boats, not speed burners. In spite of Quinn’s bad joke, we wouldn’t be outrunning any other ships, Navy or otherwise.

Tori jumped out of the Tori Tickle and walked back to the Patricia.

Quinn was at the wheel, tuning the engines. I was impressed. He actually looked as though he knew what he was doing. I could have handled the boat on my own just fine, but Quinn was right: I would have handled us right into getting lost.

Tori waved for him to come over.

“Dad always keeps the tanks topped off,” she said. “There’s more than enough fuel to get us to the mainland.”

“How should we do this?’ Quinn asked.

“We’ll go out first,” Tori explained. “Give us a five-minute head start. When I get to the mouth of the lagoon, I’ll head north for five minutes before turning west. You head south for a minute or two before making the turn.”

“So we’ll be what?” I asked. “About a mile apart?”

“More or less,” Tori replied. “Definitely within walkie-talkie range.”

Quinn said, “I don’t think we should use them unless there’s an emergency. They might be able to lock onto our band and track us.”

I hadn’t thought of that. Damn.

“Right,” I said.

Tori said, “If we both head due west from that point, I’m guessing you’ll hit land somewhere around the Portland Head Light. We’ll be north of that. Beach the boat. Not that it really matters, but try to hit sand. Or find a dock. I’d like to think my dad will get these back in one piece someday.”

“I’ll do my best,” Quinn assured her. “Then I’ll call you on the walkie.”

“What do we do from there?” I asked.

Quinn and Tori exchanged looks.

Tori said, “Let’s worry about that when we get there.”

Good point.

The three of us stood staring at one another. Up until that point, the idea that we were going to make our escape from the island was all theory. It had suddenly become a reality. We were about to try to sneak through a blockade enforced by the United States Navy. The only others who had tried were blown out of the water.

“This suddenly doesn’t seem like such a good idea,” I said, my stomach twisting.

“But it’s the only idea,” Quinn assured me. “We’ll make it. Keep your running lights off. Go slow and we’ll be on land sucking down a Moxie before soldier boy even gets out of the root cellar.”

I was glad that one of us was confident, even if it was for show.

“Good luck,” Tori said to Quinn.

There was an awkward moment where they weren’t sure if they should shake hands or hug. Tori finally took the lead and gave him a quick hug. Quinn actually looked over her shoulder and winked at me like I should be jealous. Dork.

“See you on shore,” he said.

“I’ll fire up the Tickle,” she said and jogged for the forward boat.

Quinn and I were left alone with an uncomfortable silence.

“Hell of a thing,” he finally said.

“Seriously,” I replied. “I, uh, I think what you’re doing is incredibly brave.”

“Yes. Yes it is,” he replied, matter-of-factly.

I had to chuckle.

“But you guys aren’t far behind,” he added.

“Maybe I should go with you,” I offered.

“Nah. She’s all tough talk, but she’s still a girl.”

“Yeah, a girl who took down a professional soldier. Jeez.”

“Really,” Quinn said, then added, “but you saw her afterward. She nearly lost it. I think she needs somebody steady to roll with.”

“And you don’t?”

“Nah,” Quinn said, scoffing. “I’ve got ice water in my veins…which is a saying I never understood. How would that work exactly?”

“I don’t know,” I said, chuckling.

I really would have preferred to go with my friend. The two of us stood there awkwardly, neither wanting to leave.

“I don’t know what to say, Quinn,” I finally got out. “I mean, I always talk about how much I like Pemberwick and a huge part of that has to do with you.”

“Okay, stop right there,” he said quickly. “I hear you. I feel the same way, but I’m not about to stage some dramatic farewell scene like we’re never going to see each other again. I’m serious. Even if we get caught, I don’t see them blowing us out of the water. They’ll board us, take over the boats, and bring us right back here, where we won’t be any worse off than we are right now. So let’s not get all weepy. We’ll either see each other on the mainland or on the deck of the U.S.S. Gotcherass.”

“Do you really believe that?” I asked.

Quinn stared at me for a good few seconds, then said, “Yeah. Of course I do.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I do too.”

Neither of us were telling the truth.

“Excellent. Now don’t go puttin’ moves on Tori out there in the dark.”

“I’ll try to control myself.”

We stood there for another long moment, putting off the inevitable.

“Let’s go!” Tori called.

A second later she fired up the engines of the Tori Tickle. Both boats were alive and humming, ready to take us on the next leg of our adventure. Or our escape. Or whatever it was we were doing.

“I’ll cast you off,” I said to Quinn.

He hopped back on board and I ran to the stern, unlooped the line from around the cleat, and tossed it on board. I then ran to the bow and unlashed the front line. I walked that one back and handed it to Quinn.

“There you go,” I said. “Good luck.”

“The Pemberwick Run, baby,” Quinn said.

I gave him a smile and watched him standing there for another full second. I don’t know why but I felt as though I wanted to remember that moment. Quinn was doing an incredibly brave and selfless thing by going alone.

“C’mon!” Tori called impatiently over the rumble of the engines.

I unlashed the stern line of the Tori Tickle, tossed it on the deck, then ran forward and released the bow line. Both boats were now drifting free in the pond. I jumped on board and stood behind Tori, who manned the large, chrome wheel.

“Nice and easy,” she said as she reached forward with both hands to grasp the dual engine throttles. She pushed both ahead gently and the engines rumbled louder.

We were under way.

I looked ahead through the Plexiglas windshield of the wheelhouse out to the horizon. It was still light but growing darker by the moment. That was good. By the time we maneuvered through the twists and turns of the lagoon to reach the ocean, it would be near dark. That’s when the real fun would begin. For a moment I let myself believe that everything would be okay. We would get away from the island and make it to the mainland without a problem. I didn’t want to think any further ahead than that. One step at a time. I settled in and took comfort in the familiar sounds of a rumbling engine and the far-off cry of seagulls.

My moment of optimism vanished when my eye caught something leaning against the console to Tori’s right. It was the shotgun. I hoped to God that we wouldn’t have to use it.

Tori stood straight at the wheel, her eyes focused on the course ahead. She had the brim of her USM cap pulled down low, though there was no sun to block anymore. It was probably out of habit. Or maybe that was just her style. Tori wasn’t exactly an open book. But she was an experienced sailor. She guided the Tori Tickle with confidence through the labyrinth of waterways that twisted through the marsh grass toward the sea. The tide was high, so I didn’t think there was much chance of grounding. At least we had that going for us. Still, she kept the small boat directly in the center of the narrow channel, just in case.

I caught the faint smell of lemons. It reminded me that, as confident as she was, part of her was self-conscious as well. It made me like her all the more, but at that moment I didn’t need her to be self-conscious. I needed her to be steely eyed and focused.

I glanced back to see the Patricia slowly drifting away from the dock. Quinn wouldn’t be following for another few minutes.

“I hope he knows the way out,” I said.

“He can follow our wake,” Tori said without breaking her focused gaze. “We hit this just right. There’s just enough light for me to navigate out of here and by the time we hit open water it’ll be dark.”

“Yeah,” I said. “We’re as good as home free.”

She gave me a quick, sharp glance. She didn’t appreciate my sarcasm.

The boat was a thirty-five-foot workhorse that was used for one purpose: catching lobsters. Quinn and I knew the routine all too well. There were empty bins on the deck behind the wheelhouse that normally held bait or the day’s catch. Bait would be put into a mesh bag and stuck in steel-cage traps. The traps would be lowered overboard and marked with a buoy. Every lobsterman had his own colors, so everyone knew whose was whose. After a few days, they’d travel back and haul them up with a winch to see how many dumb lobsters had wandered inside. They’d be measured to make sure they weren’t undersized and the lucky runts would be tossed back overboard. The bigger boys would have their claws strapped with rubber bands so they wouldn’t kill each other, and then they were all dumped into the deeper plastic bins that were filled with seawater to await the market and an eventual date with melted butter. The traps would be rebaited and dropped over to once again lie in wait. It was a Maine dance that had been going on forever. I couldn’t help but wonder if the tradition would continue on Pemberwick when things got back to normal.

Actually, I couldn’t help but wonder if things would get back to normal.

“You like lobstering?” I asked Tori, trying to make small talk that would take my mind off the steadily growing tension.

“If you had asked me that a couple of weeks ago, I would have told you how much I hated it.”

“And now?”

She shrugged. “Right now I’d give anything to be out here with my dad, just hauling out spiders. Funny how perspective changes things.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Perspective. Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone?”

Tori gave me a surprised look as if she were seeing me for the first time.

“That’s fairly profound,” she said sincerely.

I thought about taking the compliment and shutting up, but that wasn’t me. “It is,” I said. “And whoever wrote the song I stole the lyric from really knows what they’re talking about.”

I gave her a winning smile. She rolled her eyes and looked back ahead. So much for impressing her with my poetic observations on life.

“Keep an eye out,” she commanded.

As if on cue, I felt the boat rock as the V-shaped hull was buffeted by the surge of a wave. After chugging along for nearly ten minutes, we were one turn away from hitting the open ocean. I looked back to see the vague, gray shape of the Patricia’s wheelhouse making its way along the same route we had just taken. Quinn looked to be exactly five minutes behind us and finding his way without a problem. Ahead of us was the unknown. I ducked out of the wheelhouse and looked up to see stars appearing in the rapidly darkening sky. We had timed it perfectly. Tori wheeled us to starboard, skirted the last scrub-choked outcropping of sand, and gently pushed the throttles forward to help break us away from Pemberwick’s grasp. We motored through a protected cove where the surf was minimal. Still, I felt the Tori Tickle rise and fall on a wave as if we were being lifted up and given a gentle nudge that would send us on our way.

“And here we go,” I said without thinking.

We were officially in harm’s way. I scanned the horizon, hoping not to see any patrolling Navy vessels. If there was a destroyer waiting outside the cove, our journey would have been a short one. But there were no ships to be seen. I looked back to Pemberwick, scanning for any sign of a missile-carrying helicopter. The sky was clear. We had already gotten further than the cigarette boat had.

“I’ll get us out of the cove before heading north.” She looked at me and added, “Don’t want to run aground.”

It was a dig over what I had done with the Willards’ boat a few months before, but I didn’t call her on it.

She kept the running lights off and the engine throttled down. I wanted to lean forward and jam both throttles to the max to pile on the speed and get away from there, but knew that could be a fatal mistake. The whole plan was to move as quietly as possible and slip under their radar—perhaps literally.

The cove was on the western shore of Pemberwick, the side that faced the mainland. That was huge. If we had had to circumvent the island, we would have certainly run into one of the Navy ships. As it was, we only had to travel a straight line. It was five miles from shore to shore.

Five really long miles.

Tori spun the chrome wheel, turning us to starboard and on to a northbound course that would run us parallel to shore. I would have preferred that we just kept going west, but the whole point was to put some distance between Quinn and us. We’d be headed west soon enough. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.

The sea was calm, as predicted. At least seasickness wouldn’t be an issue, unlike the last time I had been out on the ocean when we traveled by ferry to my ass-kicking at Greely High.

I looked west to see the hazy outline of the mainland. It seemed much closer than five miles but that’s how it worked over the water. Distances always appeared smaller than they actually were. It was far enough away that I couldn’t make out any lights. The area where we would land was fairly remote anyway. It wasn’t like Portland was right there. Once we hit land, we’d have to find our way to the city. It was a problem I hoped we’d get the chance to face.

“Enough,” Tori announced. “Let’s get outta here.”

She was as anxious as I was. We hadn’t been traveling north for anywhere near five minutes but I didn’t complain. The longer we stayed near Pemberwick, the better the chance of being spotted from shore. Tori spun the wheel and we turned again, back on our original heading, due west. The island was behind us, the mainland ahead. I wondered if I would be able to hold my breath for the entire five miles.

“You see anything?” Tori asked, as if I would have kept it to myself if I had.

“Nothing,” I replied.

I kept moving my gaze from side to side, scanning up and down the coast for any signs of a Navy vessel. I didn’t think they’d be hard to spot. They had no reason to be out there with their running lights off, like us. At one point I thought I saw a single light bobbing far north of us, but couldn’t tell for sure if it was a ship, or a star reflecting in the water. I chose not to sound the alarm, not that we could have done anything about it, anyway.

“I don’t see Quinn either,” I said as I gazed south.

“Good,” Tori replied. “That means nobody else can either.”

We traveled in silence for several minutes. It was excruciating. I kept expecting to hear the shrill whine of a missile that was headed our way, or the bright floodlights from a Navy destroyer that had spotted us. Instead, there was nothing but the low, steady growl of the twin diesels and the lapping of the dark sea against our hull.

I stood right next to Tori and whispered, “Are we there yet?”

It was a joke. She didn’t find it funny.

“We’ve gone about a mile,” she whispered back.

We were both whispering for fear that the sound of our voices would carry over the water.

“A mile is good,” I whispered. “Two miles would be better.”

Pemberwick was shrinking behind us. I wondered how tight the naval blockade was. They had to be fairly close in order to spot any boats trying to leave. It wouldn’t make sense for them to hang too far back. That would only increase the area they had to monitor. My spirits started to rise. Was it possible? Could we have done it?

I stared south, trying to spot Quinn, but there wasn’t enough light. Again, that was good news. Visibility was low. By complete dumb luck we may have taken off on the perfect night. I fought the urge to grab the walkie-talkie and call him.

“What’s that?” Tori asked, listening.

I didn’t hear anything but the engines.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“Listen,” she commanded.

I did—and immediately heard it. An alien sound cut through the rumbling of the diesels. It was a sound I’d heard before. It sent a chill up my spine.

Tori said, “It sounds like—”

“Music,” I said, finishing her thought.

I instantly looked skyward.

“I’ve heard that before,” she declared.

I held my hand up to quiet her. It was the same sound we had heard on the bluffs the night the shadow exploded. It was a single, sustained note that could have been coming from some celestial instrument.

Only this time I sensed a slight difference.

“There’s more than one,” I declared.

The single voice was joined by another. And another. It was like a heavenly orchestra, with each instrument playing different notes that slowly grew louder…as if they were coming closer.

“Kill the engine,” I demanded.

Tori reacted quickly and shut down both engines. With nothing but the sounds of the open ocean to compete, the musical notes became more distinct. I scanned the sky but saw only stars.

“Is it the same thing?” Tori asked.

“Sure sounds like it.”

Tori ran to the stern and gazed out over the water.

“I don’t see anything at water level,” she declared.

The notes grew louder. I couldn’t tell how many were joining in. Five? Ten? A hundred? There was nothing threatening about them, except for the fact that they existed at all—and that they were growing closer.

“Maybe it’s the SYLO navy,” Tori offered.

“There they are!”

I exclaimed, pointing to the sky.

It was the same as before. A single shadow sailed high above, headed west. When it passed over us, the sustained note reached a peak and then dissipated as it moved west toward the mainland.

“So it wasn’t a boat,” Tori said, spellbound.

“And it’s not alone,” I added.

Another shadow sailed overhead, followed by another. The only time we could see them was when they blotted out the light from the stars as they crossed over us.

“Are they giant bats?” Tori asked.

“Giant musical exploding bats?” I replied skeptically. “That carry cargo?”

All of them were the same size and shape, like stingrays with no tails. They each traveled in a straight line with no obvious mechanical movement or engine sound to reveal how they were staying aloft. It was hard to tell how big they were because I couldn’t judge their altitude. If they were close, then they weren’t big at all. They could have been the size of dinner plates. But if they were far away and high in the sky, they were massive. I couldn’t judge their thickness either. All we could see in the dark were two-dimensional black shapes—shapes that floated by while playing musical notes.

“Are we hearing their engines?” I asked. “Is that what’s making the music?”

“I don’t know, but there are hundreds of them,” Tori said in awe.

A crackling voice came through the walkie-talkie. “Are you seeing this?”

It was Quinn. I grabbed the device and squeezed the talk button.

“Yes. Just like the other night,” I said.

“Maybe they’re angels,” Quinn responded.

I looked to Tori. She frowned.

“Be serious,” I called back. “And keep the air clear. We don’t want to be tracked.”

“I guess it could be SYLO,” Tori said. “Maybe they’re some kind of reconnaissance drones.”

“Then they’re not looking for us,” I announced. “Or they suck.”

Tori said, “But if they’re SYLO, it raises another scary possibility.”

“What’s that?”

“The explosion, the wreckage, and the Ruby. Does that mean SYLO was bringing the Ruby to Pemberwick Island?”

I snapped a quick look to her. “I don’t want to even think of that possibility.”

She shrugged. “Just sayin’. If they’re military, then they might really be from SYLO. And if the thing that exploded was full of the Ruby…”

She let her voice trail off.

Quinn called, “That’s the last of ’em.”

The sky was clear again, with nothing but twinkling stars shining down on us, unobstructed.

Quinn continued, “Let’s keep on going and—whoa, look!”

Without seeing where he was looking, I had no idea what he was talking about.

Tori did. She pointed toward the mainland.

“There,” she declared.

The sky over the mainland was lighting up, backlighting the contour of the horizon. It was a spectacular light show that stretched to either side but seemed concentrated over the area near Portland. There was no sound, only light. The colors were brilliant, as if a rainbow was erupting in the sky that was even more dramatic than the explosion we had seen weeks before. It looked like the aurora borealis had descended on the coast of Maine.

“Is there some holiday light show happening in Portland?” Quinn called over the walkie.

I keyed the talk switch but didn’t say a word. I couldn’t think of any.

The stunning lights silhouetted the swarm of black shadows that flew toward shore. There were too many to count. They flew together, as if—

“It’s a formation,” Tori said with a gasp. “They’re coordinated. Are they creating those lights?”

I had no answer. We floated there, watching the light show for several minutes. Unlike my earlier sighting of the mysterious shadow, there were no flashes of light that came from the ocean. The impossible display had momentarily made us forget our own dire situation…until reality came flooding back.

“I got trouble,” Quinn announced over the walkie.

“What?” I called.

“I killed the engines so I could hear the shadows and now I can’t start ’em up again. I think maybe they’re flooded.”

I looked at Tori and said, “We gotta get out of here. If we’re seeing this, so is the Navy, and they might come to investigate.”

“Damn,” Tori snarled and grabbed the walkie to talk to Quinn. “You may have a gas fume buildup. Put the throttles in neutral and run the electric bilge blower. It’s the silver toggle to the right of the ignition. Do you see it?”

We waited. I couldn’t take my eyes off the mainland and the spectacular light show.

“Quinn?” she called.

“I got it,” he replied. “The blower’s working. How long will this take?”

“I don’t know. Maybe five minutes. Be patient. When you crank it, don’t do it for any more than ten seconds or you’ll flood it again.”

“Understood,” was Quinn’s response. “What the hell is going on over there?”

The light show not only continued, it grew more dramatic, rising high into the sky and blotting out the stars above Portland.

“What about us?” I asked, nodding toward the throttles.

Tori cranked the ignition and the engine fired. The second started just as easily.

“Maybe we should go get Quinn,” she said.

I kept staring at the mainland as if hypnotized by the display. I don’t know how long we floated there. Minutes? Many minutes?

“Tucker? Are we going after Quinn?”

A shrieking sound tore through the sky. There was nothing musical about it. The sound was so painfully deafening that we had to cover our ears. We both fell to the deck and dared to look up to the sky to see…

“Fighters,” I cried.

Four fighter planes, also silhouetted against the stars but much more recognizable as military aircraft, tore over us, headed in the same direction as the shadows. They traveled in formation for several more seconds, then broke apart. One went left, another right. The two in the middle stayed the course, headed straight for the shadows. We could see them easily because of the backdrop of flashing lights over the mainland.

“What the hell is going on?” was all I could say.

My answer came quickly. The fighter jets opened fire on the shadows.

“It’s a dogfight!” Tori screamed.

The fighter jets started launching missiles that blasted from beneath their wings and tore into the formation of shadows. Several were hit and exploded in the air, erupting into spectacular fireballs similar to the one we had seen near Tori’s house. Some splashed into the ocean; others crashed and erupted on land.

Another four fighter jets arrived and bore into the fight. They swooped in and out in an aerial ballet that would have been fascinating to watch if it had been some CGI movie.

When the fighter jets arrived, we got more of a perspective on the shadows. They weren’t dinner-sized plates at all. They were nearly as large as the fighter planes—plenty big enough to be carrying a pilot or two. Or a load of the Ruby.

I grabbed the walkie and yelled to Quinn, “We gotta go. Crank the engine again.”

We waited, glued to the aerial battle that was playing out over Portland, Maine.

“No good,” Quinn called back. “It’s starting to smoke and—no! I’ve got a fire!”

Tori grabbed the walkie and shouted, “There’s an extinguisher aft of the wheelhouse.”

I was torn between worrying about Quinn and the impossible air war. As we floated halfway between Pemberwick Island and the mainland, we had no idea who was attacking and who was defending or who was who, for that matter. The fighters were all about taking out the shadow craft, but there was no way to know what the strange shadows were or what they were doing. After what we’d seen from the military on Pemberwick, I wasn’t so sure who were the good guys and who were the bad guys.

Up until that moment, the shadow craft were being shot out of the sky without putting up a fight.

That didn’t last.

A laser-like white light streaked from three of the shadow craft at the exact same moment. All were focused on a fighter. The three lights hit the jet—and the plane vanished.

There was no explosion. No flash of light. No fire. No sound. The plane glowed for an instant and disappeared.

I fell to my knees on the deck, realizing that I had just once again witnessed death…along with a deadly technology unlike anything I had ever heard of.

“Did you see that?” Quinn screamed over the walkie.

I think I was in shock. I couldn’t move, or think. I kept staring at the mainland and saw the same scene play over and over. Three shadow craft would target a fighter, hit it with multiple streaks of light, and the fighter would disappear. One by one the fighters were being picked off. They continued to do damage, splashing several of the shadow craft with their missiles, but it was clear that it would only be a matter of time before every last fighter was evaporated.

Tori’s head was clearer than mine. She went for the boat’s ship-to-shore radio—the same radio we didn’t dare use in case we would give away our position. That fear had been replaced by a much greater one. She flipped on the power and the radio hummed to life.

“Who are you trying to call?” I asked.

“Nobody. Somebody might be on the air to say what’s going on.”

She spun through the frequencies, searching for a call. A voice. Anything. What we got back was a garble of static and confusion. Multiple voices seemed to be screaming over one another. It was such a mess that nothing understandable came through.

It was the same with every other frequency. All we could hear, loud and clear, was something horrifyingly unmistakable—the frantic sounds of panic.

Tori gave me a grave look. “Are we at war?” she asked.

“Who is ‘we’? And who would we be at war with?”

“I can’t find the extinguisher,” Quinn yelled over the walkie. “The fire’s spreading.”

I forced myself to focus. “We gotta get him. Jeez, we’ve already waited too long.”

“We’re coming,” Tori shouted at the walkie. “What’s your position?”

“I don’t know!” Quinn called back. “Somewhere south of you.”

“There!” I yelled. I saw a faint flicker of light on the water that had to be the fire. “Let’s go!”

Tori hit the throttles, the engines roared, and we were on our way. All thoughts of stealth were gone. What we were witnessing over the mainland made the quarantine of Pemberwick Island seem trivial.

As we roared closer to the burning boat that held Quinn, I kept staring at the sky over the far shore. There were only two fighters left. Each launched missiles that took out a shadow craft, but there were too many of the mysterious planes. Unless the fighters flew off, they wouldn’t be in the air much longer. They wouldn’t be anywhere for much longer.

Tori screamed.

I spun to look ahead of us to see a massive black creature rising up out of the water between us and Quinn’s boat. The light from the boat fire was soon blocked as the enormous black shape rose up like some monster from the deep—and kept coming.

“Turn!” I bellowed and grabbed the wheel.

Together we spun it hard and fishtailed into a turn to starboard without easing back on the throttles. I didn’t know what it was in front of us. I didn’t care. All I wanted to do was avoid hitting it.

“Guys! Get me outta here!” Quinn shouted over the walkie.

I heard the desperation in his voice, and it terrified me—even more so than the rising monster. Tori got her wits back and kept control of the boat. We spun clear of the leviathan until we could once again see Quinn’s boat.

The wheelhouse was ablaze. Quinn stood on the stern, waving his arms.

That’s when I heard the music return.

Tori and I looked up to see several of the flying black craft headed our way.

“We’re coming!” I shouted into the walkie.

“I’m bailing out before this thing explodes,” Quinn shouted back.

“Go,” I yelled. “We’ll pick you up and—”

Three white laser streaks flashed out of the sky. All were focused on the Patricia.

“Jump!” I screamed into the walkie. “Get off the boat!”

The last image I saw of Quinn Carr was him stepping up onto the deck rail to jump into the water…too late.

The beams hit the boat, there was a quick burst of light, and then it was gone. The fire. The boat. Quinn.

Tori pulled back on the throttles. There was no longer a need to hurry.

“My God,” was all she managed to say.

We stood there watching the dark sea where the Patricia had once been. I kept expecting to see it reappear. Or to hear Quinn’s voice over the walkie. Neither of those things happened.

“No,” I said numbly. “No, no, no!”

I grabbed the walkie and screamed, “Quinn! Come in! Quinn!”

I was so out of my mind I don’t think I was even pressing the talk button. It didn’t matter anyway. We were close enough to the spot where the boat had been that Quinn would have heard my screams even without the walkie-talkie. I threw the walkie to the deck and leaned out over the rail.

“Quinn!” I cried. To nothing.

Tori came up behind me and held my arms.

“He can’t hear you,” she said, crying.

“Yes, he can,” I shouted. “He could be in the water. He could be out there.”

There was a rumbling, and then a sharp whoosh sound that came from our left. I barely had the will to look and see what it could be. I was aware of two eruptions coming from underwater, followed by a roar and the sight of two streaking cylinders. Missiles. They flashed into the sky toward the flying shadows that had targeted Quinn.

They found their mark. Two of the flying shadows exploded above us and crashed into the sea not fifty yards from where we were floating. The third escaped.

That solved the mystery of the rising leviathan. We were hit with a bright searchlight. I didn’t even bother to raise my hand to shield my eyes.

“Attention,” came an amplified voice. “Are you armed?”

Armed? We had just witnessed an aerial war using unheard-of weapons and this guy wanted to know if a couple of kids in a lobster boat were armed?

Tori was more together than I was. She grabbed the shotgun and threw it over the side.

“Prepare to be boarded,” came the voice.

The dark, massive shape that had risen up before us loomed closer and I now saw it for what it was. It was a conning tower. The giant sea beast was a submarine. Painted boldly beneath the bridge was a logo.

SYLO.

My best friend was dead. His adventure was over.

But ours was only beginning.