Chapters (57)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Foreword
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Praise for Linwood Barclay
- Also by Linwood Barclay
- About the Publisher
The car crested the hill. From here, they could expect to see the broad expanse of pavement where cars would, in normal times, line up for boarding, the ferry headquarters building, the wide, metal ramp that would link to the ship once it reached the dock.
But the sight that greeted them included much more than that.
“Jesus,” Bruce said as he slammed on the brakes.
The first thing they noticed was the fog. A low cloud had settled over the dock area. But it wasn’t so thick that Bruce and Katie and Kyle couldn’t see what was happening.
There were people. Hundreds of them, all running. Young and old, men and women, some bearing children in their arms. One man had slung an elderly woman over his shoulder.
Everyone was fleeing the ferry boarding area. Some headed up the hill, others went for the beach. The only thing that seemed to matter to them was that they get away.
It was clear what they were running from.
Arrivals.
Lined up in two perfect rows, all pointed where the ferry, still not visible because of the fog, would appear in seconds.
Bruce scanned the cars, wondering how many there were. Fifty? Sixty? Possibly more. But there was something particularly startling about these Arrivals.
Every last one of them was ablaze.
“Mother of God,” Kyle said. “They’ve set themselves on fire.”
“What?” Katie said.
“They must have deliberately short-circuited themselves.” He said it with a sense of wonder. “This is amazing. This is stunning. They sensed a threat, pinpointed what it was, and decided to do something about it.”
“Why the hell would they do that?” Bruce asked. “And how would you know?”
Kyle was too transfixed by the spectacle to answer.
Bruce persisted. “What are they going to—”
But then they saw.
The ferry materialized out of the fog. The convoy of flaming Arrivals suddenly sped forward, heading for the ramp, going faster with every passing second.
They launched themselves off the end of the ramp, like arrows set aflame and fired skyward by some medieval army. They sailed through the air, one after another, the first few missing the ferry altogether and going into the water, but the following waves of flaming vehicles reached the ferry deck, crashing into what looked like, from where Bruce and Katie and Kyle watched, jeeps and other military vehicles.
A man engulfed in flames leapt off the ferry and into the water.
The cars continued to sail through the air, bombarding the ferry. There was one explosion, then another. Fire began to spread across the deck, huge black clouds billowed out. Flames licked the upper levels of the ship.
“Son of a bitch,” Kyle said. “Is there no way to get off this fucking island?”