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As I walked back along the wall toward the cave entrance, the heavy bag rubbed against the gun tucked into my shorts, reminding me with every step just how much danger I was in. Not that I needed the reminder—one of the men responsible for killing my entire family was lying between me and the exit.
I didn’t look at him as I passed. I knew that if I did, I might see something that wasn’t there. Something that would lure me right back into his clutches. So, instead, I kept my eyes fixed on the waves crashing against the rocks outside. A storm was coming.
Grand.
As soon as I emerged from the tunnel, I was greeted by a splash of cold seawater and a clap of thunder so loud that it made me gasp and cover my head. I was immediately taken back to the night before, when bombs had rattled the cave walls and sent rocks plummeting into the inlet. It felt like my heart was trying to escape through my throat as I scrambled up on top of the capstone to avoid being splashed again. My eyes darted in all directions.
The first thing I noticed was that both planes that had been shot down and most of the ship was completely submerged now. All that was left was the bow of the ship, which pointed straight up at the churning gray sky like the tip of an iceberg. I pictured the bodies of the men who’d been on board scattered across the bottom of the sea. They were probably washing up on the beach by the dozen. Luckily, my cave was on the cliff side of the peninsula. The water was deep there, so the only debris I could see was what floated on the surface—plastic containers and hoses, hollow metal airplane parts, foam seats, a pack of Russian cigarettes. The waves smashed the rubbish against the cliffs over and over as a gust of wind threatened to do the same to me.
I began my climb, but between the ten kilos of books and bottled water and miscellaneous stolen items strapped to my back and the fact that every clap of thunder caused me to freeze and cover my head before I could keep going, it took far longer than I’d expected to reach the top. I was so grateful I’d made it without falling that for one second, one blissful moment of relief, I forgot what I’d made it to.
The wall of charred bushes at the top of the trail was my first reminder.
My hands began to shake, and a river of acid filled my empty stomach as I stepped between the two skeletal shrubs that had once hidden my trail and walked out onto the well-worn cliff path. Where green grass and swaying wildflowers had been the day before now lay a scorched wasteland, punctuated by a few crackling fires and dusted with a steady snowfall of ash.
I could hear bombs exploding over in Dublin. A formation of planes flew overhead, probably on their way to drop more. So, I knew I wasn’t the last person on earth, but from where I stood, it sure felt like it.
Maybe I was just the last person in Howth. The Russians were probably all fighting in Dublin by now. There was no reason for them to occupy such a small town when the capital was right next door.
A glimmer of hope took root.
If they were gone, then I was safe. If they were gone, then I could find shelter—some place with running water and all its walls intact. Maybe I’d go back home, see if the shed was still standing. I could live in there until …
A sudden flashbulb image of Sheila’s severed arm caused me to slam my eyes closed and drop to my knees. Bile rose in my throat, along with a scream that clawed its way out of my body like a demon being exorcised. The sound was inhuman—a guttural, broken wail that would be heard by no one but the dead.
Or so I’d thought.
The wind was so strong and the rumbling of thunder so constant that I didn’t notice the soft whir of propeller blades until the drone was almost on top of me. By the time I registered the high-pitched hum of the motor and lifted my head, it was too late.
I’d been spotted.
The black device descended upon me like a bird of prey, swooping out of the gray sky with its spotlight aimed and its belly full of bullets. That beam had barely grazed my elbow before I dived through the bushes and back onto the cliff trail, but I leaped with too much force.
“This is a message from President Abramov.”
Propelled by the weight of my backpack, I slid right off the side of the trail, headfirst. Barreling through charred bushes, over rocks and off steep drop-offs, I tumbled down the nearly vertical cliff face with the grace of a rag doll.
“Your city has been captured by the Armed Forces of the Russian Federation.”
Branches tore at my jumper and sliced into my bare legs. Rocks and sticks punctured my palms and bare feet as I grasped at anything that might slow my fall. The Russian’s gun slipped out of my shorts and clattered onto the rocks below—a preview of what would happen to me if I didn’t find a way to stop my fall. After the next sudden drop-off, my backpack surged forward and slammed into the base of my skull. White light blinded me, and I didn’t know if it was from the blow I’d just taken to the head or Satan’s spotlight shining in my face.
“This is your only chance to surrender. You have ten seconds to raise your hands above your head and follow this device to the nearest encampment.”
Finally, I careened into a patch of bushes that hadn’t been burned. Gripping them with both hands, I held fast as the momentum carried my body right over them. I thought my shoulders were going to rip out of their sockets as I flipped over the shrubs, slamming backpack-first into the stone cliff with my arms twisted above me in the air.
“Refusal to do so will be considered an act of war and will result in your termination.”
My heart raced, and my feet groped at the mossy stone cliff as I dangled ten meters above a pile of rocks and airplane wreckage.
The light in my face became even more intense as the drone settled directly in front of me, mocking my struggle to live. My pathetic human adherence to gravity.
“Ten.”
“Ugh!” Thrashing with both legs, I finally found a foothold and felt my heart leap in my chest.
“Nine.”
Twisting my body so that I was now facing the cliff, I began to climb sideways, using rocks and roots for footholds and shrub branches for handholds. I did not look down. I did not breathe.
