Norman tipped her a salute and turned, headed across the road and up the hill as fast as his long legs would take him. Raymond and Daniel had come up behind her.
“What are we doing?” Raymond said. She heard the fear in his voice. “Are we just going to let this happen?”
“I don’t know what we’re doing,” Elna replied. “Raymond, I think you should take your son back to the guesthouse. It’s not safe out here.”
Raymond stepped around in front of her, drawing his son along with him. Daniel’s color still wasn’t quite right. He almost seemed jaundiced, and he had dark circles around his eyes.
“Can you stop them from raising that other bridge?” Raymond asked, leaning to one side to force eye contact with her. “There has to be something we can do, señora. They’re shooting at each other. If they get onto the island, we’re all in big trouble.”
“It doesn’t seem like a battle to me,” Malin said. “It’s seems like a one-sided attempted slaughter. At the moment, we’re just watching it happen.”
“I get it. I get it.” Elna waved off both of them. “Raymond, take your son back up the hill, please, where it’s safe.”
Raymond hung his head, as if he assumed he’d lost the debate. Then he started after Norman, heading up the hill with Daniel shuffling along behind him. Elna turned back to the telescope, looking for the striped wetsuit.
The swimmer was amazing. The dude was like a dolphin cutting through the rough water. Above him, on the causeway, the Army group continued to race west. Rod’s group, now grown to well over three dozen men, followed at a distance, but they were moving slowly, deliberately, as if they knew they had the upper hand.
“I hate this,” Elna said. “There’s no good outcome here, Malin. Either they get the other drawbridge down and come onto the island and bring their mess and problems with them, or they get caught on the causeway and lose to Rod’s men…and maybe all get killed right before our eyes.”
Elna picked up the telescope by its stand and stepped off the fishing dock, heading down the road toward the causeway. The road followed a gradual curve above the rocks along the eastern shore, passing the large sign that welcomed guests to Pasqualee Vineyard, before joining up with the causeway. There was a slight arch to the causeway between the shore and the first drawbridge, but she could see the top half of the bridge thrust up into the misty sky. Elna climbed up onto a rocky ledge just beyond the north parapet and set the telescope down to look through it again.
She spotted the swimmer almost immediately. In the few minutes it had taken Elna and Malin to walk from the fishing dock to the causeway, he had covered an impressive distance. As she watched the swimmer close in on the first drawbridge, she heard the echo of another gunshot.
“You’re worried about all of those people coming onto the island,” Malin said, “because you’re afraid they might decide to stick around?”
“Of course,” she said. “We don’t have the resources to provide for them, even if they pitch in. Malin, I’m not without compassion. I’m not okay with Rod’s men gunning them down, but…”
“Well, maybe there’s a way to help them without letting them onto the island,” Malin said.
“What did you have in mind?” Elna asked.
“I could climb to the top of the raised bridge and take a few shots at Rod’s men,” he said. “Maybe it would scare them off.”
“That won’t necessarily stop the Army group from coming onto the island. We should have demolished the bridges somehow so it’s not even an option.”
As she watched, the swimmer finally arrived at the first drawbridge. He pulled himself up onto some rocks at the base of the bridge and began climbing, spider-like, up into the guts beneath the service building. Watching him ascend, her anxiety turned into a profound, stomach-churching sense of helplessness.
We’re debating what to do, as if we had a choice, she thought. As if these people aren’t going to decide things for us.
She watched and waited. As she did, she dared to entertain Malin’s idea. She imagined him perched on top of the raised drawbridge, pointing the gun across the gap at Rod’s men. Even in her imagination, it seemed absurd. The militiamen had long rifles with scopes. Malin would just get himself picked off.
“I see Doc Ruzka,” Malin said, glancing over his shoulder. “She’s rushing down the hill from the guesthouse.”
“Good, we’ll need her if these people get across,” Elna said.
She heard, faintly, the low grinding of the drawbridge gears. At first, she thought the swimmer had somehow powered the thing, but then the bridge started to creep lower and she realized he was working the manual levers.
“Here they come,” she said.
“Shouldn’t we head out there and meet them?” Malin asked.
“Maybe. Hang on.”
Inch by inch, the drawbridge moved in an agonizingly slow descent.
“I know they’re human beings,” Elna said. “I know they’ve got a kid with them. Maybe they’re just trying to escape. But I can’t shake the feeling that we’re being invaded. I’ve worked so hard to take care of the people on this island. We’ve all worked together to build the aqueduct and plant more food, to hunt, and reinforce our buildings, and now this…”
She felt Malin’s hand on her shoulder. He’d climbed up onto the rock beside her.
“I want to do the right thing,” she said softly. “I really do.”
“I know,” he replied.
She heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Dr. Ruzka racing down the road toward them. She was a small, blonde woman, her hair pulled back in a long, tight ponytail. She was still wearing the long t-shirt and sweatpants she’d slept in the night before. For someone who had already proven to be tough and resourceful, she had a soft face, almost childlike, that made her appear far younger than
