The Ghost Ships of Arizona

CHAPTER TWENTY

Drake settled back as Yorgi operated the Jeep, watching the horizons as best he could and hoping Jenny Rathe kept them to the less dusty dirt roads. The Jeep bounced along. His heart was buoyed, expecting Alicia to arrive within the next day or two. Maybe they could even join up with the rest of the SPEAR team. Of course, even as a group they were far from invincible — the young woman seated behind could attest to that — but there was something about having your soldier family with you, something… unassailable.

Brown, barren landscape spread out in every direction. Jenny was leading them on a roundabout route to the vicinity of where they had been attacked. Her methods should give them protection, concealment and forewarning. Jenny was old school clever, taught hard by her wilderness-living father even before the government acquired her. The Jeeps would take them so far and then she would be able to track any quarry she liked. Drake was of no mind to completely trust her at this point but so far she seemed to be the real deal, if a little on the quiet side. She appeared to be either quick-tongued or largely discreet. Maybe it was the red hair, or that some people just took a bit more bedding in than others

On a different note, the noise, or complete lack of it, from the back seat was worrying. Drake wished he could stop his surveillance to have a deep and clear conversation with Karin. He wished he’d already done so. What was she leading up to?

The Jeep was equipped with a two-way radio which crackled into life. “I’m calling a halt,” Jenny said. “Time to camp.”

Drake evaluated the terrain. “Are you sure? We have a couple of hours of daylight yet.”

“You wanna drive around half-cocked or with a least a semblance of safety? If it’s the latter pull the fuck up and let me scout.”

Drake blinked.

Yorgi mouthed: “Half-cocked?”

Drake sighed. “It means ‘with your head up your ass’, and she’s right. Stop over there, Yorgi.”

They pulled up behind the lead Jeep, basking for a final few moments in the air conditioned interior. Drake tried to put some comforting words in his mouth, something heartening, but his brain wouldn’t play ball. Whatever words could be said to Karin had already been repeated a hundred times. If Drake was being honest he would have to admit that she was in the wrong place.

Yorgi cracked the door, wincing as the hot desert air rushed inside. Drake followed and watched as Jenny strode toward him.

“Make camp here. Use the vehicles at the perimeter but not too close. Prepare a campfire and some food. I’ll be starving my ass off by the time I get back.”

“Where the hell are you going?” Smyth hefted a rifle. “Tijuana?”

The redhead threw him an irritated look. “You think you can do better, soldier boy? Be my guest. Just don’t fall into the quicksand or get eaten by sandworms.”

Smyth was setting himself to square up to the guide when Lauren laid an arm across his shoulders.

“Just let her do her job. Yes?”

“Whatever.”

Drake nodded at Jenny and set tasks. The sun’s orb was already dipping low, accelerating it seemed as night approached. The black vehicles ticked, the only noise in the vast stillness. Drake was already tired of the desert landscape, the dust and the heat, the sand in his boots.

“It’s such a vast wilderness,” Karin surprised him by saying. “How can we hope to find anybody out here?”

“That’s why Jenny’s here. She’s the best of her kind.”

“A fiery redhead?”

“If that works for her I’m good with it. People tend to go with what works for them, especially if it helps them get through the slog of the day.”

Karin walked uphill to the camp’s perimeter and dropped down onto a patch of infertile ground, a faint path. Before her an expanse of desert stretched, endlessly bleak, seemingly lifeless, and Drake found himself likening it to Karin’s heart and soul, if not the entire team’s. How fitting that they ended up here in the wake of Komodo’s death.

It suited his mood. “As bleak as it gets,” he said, sitting beside her.

“You think?”

Probably not. He kicked at the tiny rocks. “How do you feel about getting drunk?”

Karin turned, eyes open and focused upon him for the first time. “There’s a time and a place. It sure didn’t work for you.”

Drake winced. She had him there. In the wake of Kennedy’s death he had degenerated into a whisky-swilling piss-head. True sobriety was undoubtedly the way to go in the long run. But Karin hadn’t grieved openly even for just one night. Didn’t she need to let it all go?

“One drink,” he said.

“You really want to help me? I might have an idea.”

It was everything he’d been hoping for. Disturbing memories of Ben Blake, Karin’s parents and Komodo assailed him from a dark corner of his mind. After Kennedy’s death he had sworn not to promise anyone anything anymore, and it had worked.

But this… this was entirely different.

“Tell me.”

Karin lifted her head up. “I want to be trained up. Like you. As a fighter. I want you to train me up to be a soldier.”

Drake drew a breath. It was the last thing he had expected. “Say again.”

“I have the experience. Some even in the field and under fire. I can fight already, but yes I understand that my civilian training is of little use. I’m an office baboon, but I want to be a field expert. I want to honor Komodo and Ben and my mum and dad. I want to do it my way.”

Drake watched her as she spoke and, at that moment, couldn’t speak if he wanted to. What he saw in her was an awful lot of Ben Blake’s youthful enthusiasm. The young lad’s drive and cheeriness shone through in his sister, almost as if Ben spoke to him from beyond. Drake felt a string of words choke in his throat.

“Will you help me?” Karin leaned forward in earnest.

He thought about all the promises he had made to Ben Blake. “Yes,” he said finally. “Trust me. I will get you to where you want to be. I promise.”

Another vow broken.

Karin put an arm around his shoulders. The sun turned to a deep crimson before them as Jenny finally returned. It was going to be a long night.