“I should know that.”
“After what you’ve been through, it’s a wonder you remember your own name. These are serious runners. Even if you were healthy, we wouldn’t stand much of a chance.”
Peaches had brought them to Border Field State Park. Drake didn’t know it until he swung himself off the bus using mostly his arms, but Casey had ridden on the bus with them. He was wearing runner’s clothes, and he was going to run with them today. Fred had driven separately. There were no reporters here at the boundary between the United States and Mexico.
Fred herded the runners over to the Mexican Border Monument, a marble obelisk proclaiming the friendship of the United States and Mexico, and took pictures of Casey and the runners. The ugly metal and wire border fence extended on either side of the monument and into the ocean. Drake could see a section of Tijuana through the fence, complete with a bullring, which contrasted to the barrenness on the U.S. side.
Casey addressed the group. “I realize that this is an inauspicious start to a grand enterprise, but you’ll receive a proper sendoff this afternoon at the Coronado Bridge. So let’s get going. We’re going to run up the beach for awhile before we hit the road. There may be some swampy places, but we’re runners, and we don’t mind getting our feet wet, right?”
Everybody echoed, “Right.”
“Okay, follow me.”
Casey set off along the sand at a moderate pace. The runners, all wearing shorts and singlets with Running California printed on them, easily kept up with him. Drake’s clothes had been delivered to his room by the taciturn Peaches. Only his running shoes were his own. Fortunately, he had been wearing them yesterday. If by some miracle he was able to continue, he would have to buy at least one more pair of shoes and break them in as they went.
Drake and Melody started behind the others. At first, Drake could hardly walk, let alone run, but after a while he loosened up a little and accelerated to a slow trot. Melody floated effortlessly beside him.
She watched him closely. “You’re looking a little better. How do you feel?”
“Like somebody is sticking pins into my voodoo doll.”
The cloudless sky proclaimed that it was a California August-summer at its peak. How could anybody feel bad on such a beautiful day?
Surprisingly, within a few minutes Drake felt better. The movement helped. Running elevated his spirits, as it often did. Producing endorphins, or something. They sped up to a jog. He and Melody chatted about inconsequential things. His problems seemed to melt away. He almost forgot that someone might be trying to kill him.
They splashed through shallow water as Oneonta Slough lazily joined the ocean, but wet feet were par for the course for marathoners. Running on sand didn’t jolt his back as much as running on a hard surface, but the tradeoff was that it required more effort because the sand gave beneath his feet. That slowed them down, but speed was the least of his worries.
Soon they were passing a row of houses that were right on the beach. Piles of dark rocks formed a wall in front of them-a breakwater, evidently to ward off extra-high tides. Casey was sitting on one of the rocks. Had he given up already?
He rose as they approached and fell into stride beside Drake. He didn’t look winded at all. He was wearing dark glasses against the August sun.
“I’m worried about you.”
“Nothing to worry about. Either I can do it or I can’t. I figure today’s run is the equivalent of perhaps half a marathon. Challenging but not conclusive since we’re going to be running daily marathons soon. We put a man on the moon in July. This can’t be any harder than that.”
Casey laughed. “Giganticorp helped create the technology for the space program. Fred is setting up an appointment with a chiropractor for you after you cross the bridge. We should be able to get you one every day as long as we’re in the populated area of Southern California.”
“Thanks, but it’s going to take more than a chiropractor, I’m afraid. Like rest.”
“Rest is the one thing I can’t promise you, although you’ll get a day off from time to time.” Casey grinned at Drake. “But I know you’ll stick it out. You’ve done harder things in your life.”
From the other side of Drake, Melody said, “Why should we stick it out if we have no chance of winning the money?”
Casey’s face had a look of surprise, whether real or feigned Drake didn’t know. “I don’t believe that for a minute. You’ve got the experience and persistence the others don’t have. They can run a single marathon, but can they run a marathon day after day without burning out? Do they know how to pace themselves? I figure you two should know how to do that. When they start to fade, you’ll eat them up.”
Right. What did he mean about experience and persistence? That Drake was the oldest entrant and thus had more life experience? Age wasn’t a plus here. He had other questions. “Why teams? Running is an individual sport.”
“Practical considerations. A lot of the California coast is pretty desolate, and we don’t have the manpower to keep track of every runner all the time. We figured that you have an incentive to stay with your teammate and make sure he’s okay.”
“I understand that all the runners are from California, except Melody. Why did you pick her?”
“Don’t you like having Melody as a teammate?”
That was a non-answer. Drake and Melody glanced at each other.
Casey must have seen the look. He turned on his ingratiating smile.
“I heard somewhere that you two already knew each other and figured that you might like to run together.”
Drake and Melody exchanged another look. Casey was in effect admitting that he had access to classified information. Either that or he knew somebody who had known them in England. Whatever the truth, they couldn’t probe without being in danger of violating their personal secrecy prohibitions. They couldn’t even admit they had known each other before yesterday.
Drake pulled a canteen from a small pouch strapped to his waist and took a couple of swallows of water without slowing down. He decided to change the subject. “I’m concerned that whoever hit the taxi yesterday-”
“May try again. Don’t sweat it. As long as you’re part of Running California you’re under the protection of Giganticorp. You’re safe.”
It was the second time he’d said that. Melody moved over so that she was on the other side of Casey. “You just said yourself that parts of the California coast are desolate, and you don’t have enough Peaches clones to patrol them.”
“I’ll tell you what. If either of you gets injured in any kind of attack, I’ll give you a million dollars. How’s that for a guarantee?”
Drake smiled. “My sister will love it. But it won’t do me any good if I’m six feet under.”
“You’re not chickening out, are you? After the firefights you survived in Korea?”
Giganticorp had investigated his military career. Found out about Melody. Now Casey was appealing to his manhood. He really wanted Drake on this run. Why? Something to think about. He changed the subject again.
“I wonder if a really high tide ever reaches those houses we passed.”
Casey took in the entire beach around them with a sweep of his hand. “This belongs to everyone. Nobody should be allowed to build houses on the beach.”
“You mean because of the danger that they’ll be washed away?”
Houses on Malibu Beach, north of Los Angeles, were periodically damaged during storms.
“Because the beach belongs to everyone.”
Casey was repeating himself. Drake decided to test him. “According to California law, the part of the beach below the mean high-tide line does belong to everyone. The part above that is private property where it isn’t a government-owned recreation area.”
“The boundary line between public and private property should be at least an eighth of a mile inland.”
Melody laughed. “Based on my observations so far, I would say it’s a little late for that.”
Casey looked up as if searching the heavens for some kind of truth. “Is it?”
Casey stayed with them as they ran along the isthmus between the bay and the ocean. They ran on the silky white sand instead of the pavement of Silver Strand Boulevard because the softer surface was easier on Drake’s
