The Deep Zone

“Nothing to worry about. Stay on those guys. They’ll have your last spot presighted.”

Hallie moved ten feet to her left, popped up, fired three times, took cover again. The narcos were staying in the cover of the trees, but she had seen several edging out from behind trunks, hesitating, thinking about making a rush, then fading back.

“Bowman, what do we do when this thing is out of ammunition?”

“Fourteen rounds in the SIG. But before then, we should be on our way back to Reynosa.”

“You tripped an EPIRB?”

“Yes. It was a backup I carried in a suit pocket. Before I started after you.”

“How did you get out of the cave?”

He gave her an odd look. “Tell you later. Hell of a story.”

Bursts of fire from the narcos. “Wait.” She moved to the left ten paces, popped up, shot four rounds, dropped down, and came back to Bowman. “They’re getting ready to do something.” She knelt on one knee, the weapon’s stock on the ground.

“What do you mean?”

“They’ve separated into two groups behind the tree line. I can see them moving back in there.”

“They can’t outflank us.” Bowman pointed behind them, where the cliff with the cave mouth rose two hundred feet straight up. “Ha. I wouldn’t have thought they knew enough to do it right.”

“What?”

“They’ll come in rushes. One group will fire to suppress you while the other advances. Then that group will go to ground and fire while the other advances. Pretty soon they’ll be close enough to use grenades.”

“I’ll shoot them as they come closer.”

“You’ll try. And you’ll get some. But it all comes down to math. I’m guessing there are twenty or thirty of them out there. Every one with an AK. Sooner or later, one will get you when you pop up to fire.”

“Not if I’m careful.”

Despite himself, he laughed. “You’ve got guts. But careful’s got nothing to do with it. Give me the weapon.”

She pulled back. “No. You can’t shoot it.” She moved out of reach. “Forget it.” There was an explosion, much louder than the AK-47s’ reports, out in front of their rocky parapet.

“Grenade,” he said. “Too far for them to throw all the way just yet. Give me the weapon.”

“No!”

Hallie had thought the first time she’d laid eyes on him that Bowman was not the kind of man you wanted to have angry at you. Now she realized how right she had been. The look in his eyes was like nothing she had ever seen. It made her think of an arcing high-voltage line. But then it faded.

“Stay here.” He crawled a few yards to his left, where there was a tiny space between two adjacent boulders. He passed his hand quickly over it and there was a flurry of automatic rifle fire, bullets smacking and whining off the rocks in front of them, showering them with dust and fragments. “They had that one figured.”

He moved back to the right and lobbed two grapefruit-sized sized rocks out toward the narcos. “Now!”

While the narcos were distracted by Bowman’s “grenades,” she stood, fired five quick rounds, sweeping the muzzle from left to right, then dropped again just as a dozen AKs replied with long bursts.

“Those boys have a lot of ammo. We’ve been shooting off some ourselves. By my count, we have six left.”

Bowman looked at the weapon, then in the direction of the narcos, then back toward the cave. Another grenade blast, closer. “Hallie. I want you to go back in the cave. Take this.” He extended the SIG.

“And leave you here? Never happen.”

His face tightened. “Listen to me. I can hold off one rush. Maybe two. But then… There’s no sense them getting both of us. And you can take the moonmilk with you.” He stopped and they both listened. The narcos were shouting back and forth, their voices clearly coming from two different directions, moving closer all the time.

“They’ve got their groups sorted out.” Hallie stared at Bowman as she said this.

“You have to go into the cave.” Bowman’s voice was urgent, angry again. “When the team arrives, they’ll blow these guys to hell and get you out.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Bowman. So stop asking.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Of course I do.”

She did, and she didn’t. On the one hand, nothing had prepared her for this. But on the other, it felt strangely as if her whole life had been lived between two invisible converging lines that were about to intersect at a bright point she had always been able to see. It was the oddest brew of feelings. She was afraid, flushed with adrenaline, angry, sad. A thought flashed through: Dad would be proud of me. Hallie heard a flurry of shots from in front.

“They’re coming.” She slid right, popped up, fired two rounds at the rushing group and another at the one covering their advance. Screams, curses. While their heads were down, Bowman rose and, shooting left-handed, fired the SIG so fast it sounded more like a machine gun than a pistol.

Hallie looked at Bowman. An idea: “Why don’t we both run for the cave?”

“Without one of us laying down suppressing fire, they’d shoot us dead before we made it halfway.”

Then, for a moment, it was quiet. After so much noise for so long, the silence felt queer, more alien and threatening than the gunfire. She crawled over to Bowman, put the weapon down, locked her arms around him, and kissed him hard. Not much of a goodbye, but it would have to do.

“Where are the goddamned soldiers?” Hallie, a shout of fury and frustration. It was not supposed to end like this.

“They should have been here by now,” Bowman said, and Hallie heard the sadness of one who had waited too many times for help that never came. He gazed up at the empty sky.

“Wil.” She gestured helplessly, the right words lost somewhere beyond rage and grief.

He touched her face, his eyes full of pain as ancient as death, but his expression calm.

Then he turned to the front. “They’re close. They’ll be off balance coming over these boulders. Shoot as many as you can.” He got up on one knee, the Sig ready in his left hand. “Four rounds here,” he said.

She got to one knee also, weapon shouldered, ready for the final shots. She looked at Bowman’s face, awed by the peace she saw there, then past him and beyond the boulders and up to the sharp tops of the pines that were like spears, their green points touching the polished sky. A single bird, red as a new ruby, rose from the trees, and she watched it fly up and disappear into the sun.

They waited for the coming tide.

FORTY-SIX

“MAJOR? YOU ASLEEP?”

Lenora Stilwell opened her eyes, shook her head, focused. It was Jeran, one of the night-shift nurses at Reed.

“No,” she rasped, her throat on fire.

“I brought the tape recorder, like you asked for.” The BSL-4 suit muffled his voice, but she could see the concern in his eyes.

“Thank you, Jeran. I think I’m going to need your help.”

“Yes, ma’am. Anything at all.”

“I want to make a message for my family.” She had thought about asking for a video camera, but, given the way she looked, discarded that idea immediately. “Only I don’t think I can hold the recorder. My hands…”