"Now that's deep," Big Mike said, nodding. " 'Cause it's been bothering me lately that I feel like I'm a step behind in getting gut hunches and information . . . you know what I'm saying?"
"Word." Jose nodded. "Usually the hair is standing up on my neck or--"
"I get a vibe," Shabazz cut in. "And those have been coming slower."
Dan rubbed the back of his neck. "I thought it was just me."
"Naw, man," J.L. said, pounding Dan's fist, and then Bobby's.
"Well, shit," Berkfield said, yelling out from the pilothouse. "Then now you guys know how I feel all the time. I'm always late to the party."
"You know what's so odd," Monty said, his gaze sweeping the team. "My wife used to get . . . impressions all the time. That's why I sank my life savings into this yacht. She specified everything on here--she was the one who insisted on the sleeping quarters being as they are, everything. And as she was dying,
I was going to sell it, but she begged me to keep it and to hold on to it."
Monty stood and shook his head, walking off a bit to look over the rail. "She knew, or felt something miraculous would happen. She said, 'Monty, promise me you won't give up before the miracle happens.' I never knew what she meant." He turned around to face the group, eyes shimmering. "I felt cheated. I thought the yacht would give her something to hope for, something to cling to so she'd get better. When she didn't, I was so angry. But after what I witnessed today . . . never in a million years could anyone have ever told me I'd be a part of something so unfathomable."
"We're glad you didn't give up before the miracle, man," Carlos said, shaking his head. "We owe you, big time, because as you can see, without your escape hatch, we would have had our backs against the wall in Bermuda."
"It's mutual," Monty said. "If I had not come to know you, I would be trapped back there," he said, pointing to the island. "How long before those things slithered over the rails and into the water to swim ashore? I would have been caught unaware like all those poor people at the marina. I only pray that we created a barrier and none of them got past the docks. So, it is I who owes you."
"Naw, man, it's mutual," Yonnie said. "We got an old saying, 'Fair exchange is no robbery.' "
"Don't teach the man that," Carlos said, giving Yonnie a look.
"Why not?" Monty asked, seeming confused. "It makes sense." "Don't it just," Yonnie replied with a sly smile. "But listen to C-los; we don't use anything from the old empire, if we don't have to. Brings back memories."
"Old empire?" Monty's gaze went from one Guardian to the other.
"Hell," Shabazz said flatly. "These brothers died and came back, so they don't really like going there."
"Like a near death experience?" Monty hung on Shabazz's gaze, innocent, open, and absorbing everything.
"Naw, more like a real-death experience." Yonnie produced a toothpick in his mouth and gave Monty a wink.
"Okay," Damali said, throwing up her hands. "Convo for another day, another time. Let the man absorb this much first and maybe over a beer, later, you can get deep and esoteric, Yolando. For now, I don't want our ship captain having a heart attack."
"My bad, ma," Yonnie said, grinning. "You're right, ma. Okay, I'll chill."
"Thank you, Yolando," Carlos said, shaking his head. He stood and walked over to a five-gallon, sealed watercooler bottle and brought it back to set it on one of the glass and wrought-iron deck tables. "This right here, Monty, is salvation. Not only is it something we'll need if we're stranded out here indefinitely, but it's a weapon. So before I return you to the helm, with Berkfield and J.L. on your flank, I'ma need you to bless these. If we get in a tight, this is like C4. One brother can hurl this up while another blows it with ammo for maximum impact, and it'll fry anything it splatters without deep-frying you."
"I saw that with the ocean," Monty said, excited.
"Me and Mar are gonna fill you in on lots of little details like that," Shabazz said. "But meanwhile, we're gonna have team members watching your six who need to also be learning how to navigate this sucker." Shabazz's hard gaze went around the seated group. "Everybody's gotta be able to fill in for everybody else. We don't know what we're facing out there or how deep this contagion goes."
"I hear you, 'Bazz," Dan said, leaning forward on his forearms and clasping his hands. "Like, if we happen to pull into a marina in Puerto Rico and we're low on supplies, but it's a ghost town at the docks--is it stealing to salvage from the gift shops? Seriously. This isn't like all systems are normal. . . isn't like we're ripping people off that could sell their merchandise and have kids to feed, blah, blah, blah. The systems are gone. The monetary system has collapsed."
"Dan's got a point," Juanita said, her gaze going from Jose to Carlos, and then to Damali. "When we were at the hotel, this mess hadn't reached that far inland. In fact, the manager was still functioning in some kinda crazy denial, like business was as usual. But I'd bet an hour into the morning, homeboy probably took off and went home to hole up with his family, if he had any sense."
"Dan does have a point, you all do," Damali admitted. "I was just trying to be on the safe side." She turned and looked at Carlos. "Look, I may have been overzealous, but I just didn't want anything we did to draw havoc our way."
"Hey," Carlos said. "I feel you. I ain't mad at you, boo. In fact, it was a good thing that we went on those ships and didn't just jack supplies from the hotel--because we wouldn't have realized how bad it is. They ain't showing zombies on the news. All they are talking about is rabid animals, that freaking dengue fever." "What?" Monty glanced around. "What the heck is dengue?" "Mosquitoes carry it," Jasmine said softly. "It's formally known as Dengue Hemorrhagic Fever Virus. In developing nations, roughly ten million people get it annually, and it gives you a high fever, aching muscles, vomiting, and only like 1 percent of the population dies from it... but this year it broke out in Rio de Janeiro first and then swept South America, Central America, Africa, India . . . my home in the Philippines, Indonesia--a hundred million people with a 75 percent kill rate."
Monty sat down slowly.
"You know what I think is happening?" J.L. said, talking with his hands and then springing up out of his chair from tension like a jack-in-the-box. "I think that every plague that was already out there just got tougher. Period. And everybody who had been susceptible to the shadows from before is getting hit �with whatever part in their spirit the contagion lodged in."
"Oh, snap," Damali said, beginning to walk in a circle. "So, like, if the person had greed and avarice in them, they might become a feaster--one of those things that gets up and walks and eats flesh."