Page 68 of Mayflower

For the first time, I’m so fucking proud hearing that last name attached to the little guy who stole my heart. Him and this beautiful girl. Children and women are the biggest thieves. They steal hearts. They steal thoughts. They steal sanity. But they have the power to fill your heart with so much happiness.

It’s a wild thought—my last name I’ve always hated attached to someone else. Someone I love.

My phone rings, and I let it go unanswered until it rings again.

Maddy’s smile fades. With all that’s going on, a phone call this late at night is like a warning siren.

I check my phone.

“Rave?” Maddy says like she needs me to tell her everything will be fine.

It’s Bishop. I answer. “What is it?”

“We have a situation, Raven,” Bishop says in an unusually gruff voice that makes my brain instantly switch to an alert mode. “We need you at the Center. Now.”

Maddy meets my eyes, and the color drains from her face.

“I’m coming with you,” she blurts out.

I cup her face and kiss her on the forehead. “Stay. You’ll be fine. Stay with Sonny.”

She shakes her head, brushing me off and hurrying out of bed. “We are coming,” she says, determined.

And that’s when we hear the first explosion at Ayana, shaking the ground and the bungalow.

It’s the sound of war starting.

Maddy’s panicked eyes lock with mine.

Ayana emergency sirens go off.

23

RAVEN

Maddy, Sonny, and I, escorted by guards, arrive at the Center minutes later.

It’s the middle of the night, and Sonny should be asleep, but he got scared from the distant explosion. To be honest, if anything happens, I want him to be next to me and Maddy.

And something is happening as we rush toward a large gathering at the rows of screens on the wall. This is not an average emergency. We are getting attacked.

Archer and the crew are already here. As well as the entire staff of IT guys. Security personnel are on their radios. Guards crowd the building.

The Commander in charge of the special ops team is here, with several of his right-hand men. He is never here. I know. I only ever saw him at the port.

“What’s happening?” I ask Archer, noticing Katura among the people, too.

“A guard tower was blown up. All the drones we sent out were hit. There are attackers all through the jungle. They are scattered, with no pattern. Some cameras were blown up, so we are still trying to figure out what’s happening. But this is not looking good.”

“If this is an attack, we should alert all the residents.”

“Done already. We just sent a mass text telling everyone to get to the Center. If this is a security breach, the Center is the safest place.”

We watch dozens of live feeds on the screens that show Molotov cocktails flying from the depths of the jungle and toward the posts, creating a trail of fire.

“Why are they using Molotovs?” I ask.

Molotov cocktails are homemade, whereas Butcher’s men know how to use guns and explosives and have plenty, I’m sure.

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