kill you for that.'
Eric was calm, his features hammered in steel. 'I didn't know whether you'd kill me or not, Blackjack. I'd like to think you wouldn't. But I wasn't willing to rely on faith. I've been wrong about people before.'
Blackjack thumbed the hammer of his gun back with a deadly click. 'Make it fast.'
'After I followed you and Angel to the cache, I managed to make a fair time bomb out of all the stuff I found there. But first I moved some of it. Hid it.'
Blackjack pressed the gun against Eric's forehead. 'Where?'
'Well, now, that's the secret. There's not much hidden, though. Some rifles, pistols, a few boxes of ammunition. Not enough to conquer California, but enough for a few trained people on a floating farm, with a little luck, to protect themselves against any invasion. Maybe even move safely back to the land.'
Blackjack stared at Eric for a full minute, maybe longer. Tracy held her breath, the rest of the crew shifted nervously.
Finally, Blackjack eased the hammer down on the gun, shoved it back into his holster. 'Hell, what's a few blown up guns between good buddies like us? Hardly enough to justify me wasting a bullet on you'-he grinned- 'this time.'
20.
The Argo dropped anchor near the coast of what once was Santa Barbara. A few crumbled homes and stores clung to the cliffs and ridges, but the rest of the city had slid into the ocean in less than thirty seconds several months earlier. A few items marked the trail: a telephone pole sticking out of the side of the cliff, its wires running straight down into the ocean; the front end of a Dodge Omni teetering over the edge of a ridge, held back by a movie theater marquee that had pinned the back end to the street. The movie marquee read, CL N EASTWO D IN…
Eric dropped his backpack over the side of the ship into the dinghy. Tracy handed her bow and quiver down to the young Australian man who would row them ashore.
'Where's Blackjack?' she asked.
Eric pointed and laughed. Blackjack was hoisting up his ratty skull and crossbones flag.
Tracv did not laugh. 'Do you think he would have killed us back there?'
'I don't know.'
'I like to think he wouldn't have.'
'Me too.'
'Still, I'm glad you hid those guns.'
He smiled at her. 'Me too.'
Tracy felt the weight of the Smith amp; Wesson.357 Combat Magnum in her waistband and patted it happily. Eric balanced his crossbow over one shoulder. His new Remington.32 was fully loaded with an eight-shot clip and tucked into his boot. An extra box of cartridges was stashed in his backpack.
Blackjack marched over with a huge grin and gestured at his flag. 'Long may she wave, eh?'
'You too,' Eric said, offering his hand.
They shook, Blackjack taking Eric's hand in both of his. They nodded at each other as if in agreement, not to something they said, but in acknowledgment of what they were.
'Come here,' Tracy said, pulling Blackjack down to her level. She kissed him quickly, leaving one of her tears on his cheek.
Blackjack watched them climb into the dinghy. 'Take care of him,' he said to Tracy. 'He has a bit of the pirate in him too.'
'A bit too much,' she said and waved.
The Australian rowed the dinghy across the orange-tinted water, the only sounds now were the screaming of sea gulls and the splashing of his oars. Eric was staring at the shore, his mind already locked on Timmy and the search for Fallows.
From the deck of The Argo, Blackjack watched the dinghy land on the narrow strip of beach. Eric hopped out, standing waist-deep in the water. He slipped into his backpack, handed Tracy his crossbow and her cane, and cradled her in his arms. His feet kicked up waves of water as he carried her to the shore.
Slowly, meticulously, they climbed the cliff, Eric helping Tracy when necessary, keeping an eye on her while pretending not to. Blackjack smiled. He had treated her wounds. Except for the hip, the rest were superficial. The cuts and gouges she'd received from Angel would heal in four to six weeks. They both were pretty battered up. Yet somehow they looked stronger than he'd ever seen them. Tougher.
'Brad's back,' one of his crew shouted as the dinghy was raised back into place. 'Should he weigh anchor?'
'Not just yet,' Blackjack said, leaning over the railing, still watching.
It took another half hour for them to struggle up the face of the cliff. They rested for a moment. Eric said something. Tracy playfully swatted at him with her cane. They kissed.
Eric pulled Tracy to her feet. They marched into the thick brush, Tracy limping next to Eric. For a moment, he thought he saw them pause and wave at him. He wasn't sure, it could have been the rustling of the trees, a frightened bird. But he waved back, just in case.
