Page 76 of Mayflower

Then another scenario unfolds on the screens. The locals are on trucks with metal spikes and grids, with guns and chains and everything they could find to fight with, appearing right where the children just came from, at the edge of the clear patch amidst the jungle.

The radio beeps again. “Sir, they have a girl. I repeat, they have a girl hostage. The kid is going back for her.”

“No! Tell him to move on!” I shout.

“He won’t. He’s going back. Sir, tell us what to do. We need your order.”

We watch Sonny turn around and walk, his arms still raised, toward the darkness of the jungle where the trucks are.

A large figure walks up to him, dragging someone else. He wraps his arm around the kid’s throat and drags him backward, letting go of a tiny figure.

“That’s the girl!” someone says.

“What’s happening? Who the fuck is that? Who grabbed Sonny?” I murmur.

“One of the thugs.”

My heart drops.

The girl runs toward our guards.

The radio beeps. “Got the girl, sir.”

“Get the kid!”

“We can’t, sir.”

The guy on the screen puts a gun against Sonny’s head, dragging him away from the soldier line. He doesn’t turn back. He’s looking ahead at the soldiers.

“What’s he looking at?” I demand. “What’s he looking at? Where’s another camera? What’s he looking at?”

“Sir, we can’t get the camera to work.”

“Get the fucking drone!”

“We are on this, sir.”

“This is a good time to attack,” the Commander rasps. “We can take them out. Give the men clearance. It’s just one kid and one guy.”

Mr. Ortiz pushes his gun into the man’s head. “Shut up.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I snarl, my heart pounding.

I knew this day would come. When we have to choose between one innocent life and a battalion of people. But we can’t.

“What’s he looking at, the thug?” I shout into the radio.

Another figure separates from the line of guards and steps into the frame.

Raven.

“Fucking Raven,” Marlow whispers.

I recognize him. His arms are raised. He’s stepping into the line between the guards who are back to their positions and the guy holding the kid hostage.

“Hold the fire! Don’t shoot!” I shout into the radio. “I repeat. Do not!!”

My heart is pumping so hard I’m about to have a panic attack. I didn’t even have one when I was attacked at the Ashlands, but I’m having a hard time handling someone else’s standoff.

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