To Be A Champion

Chapter 16: It's Oh So Quiet

Water splashes up as Tom does as told, and the boat soon comes to a stop as it gets closer to shore.

"Alright," Paula says with a look of determination. "So, we're going to skirt the east side of the island and then head toward that smoke using whatever cover we can find. We need to be quick and quiet. Five, take point. Let's go."

Hopping off the boat and onto the pier, I start running, my footfalls soft on the wood. The others follow my lead, eyes wide and curious. I long to hear Sam's voice from my headset, or even Nicole's, but it was best to go without coms today just in case Jones has some way of hacking them. Nicole's shown it's really not too hard to piggyback onto Mor's frequency without them knowing. Of course, this isn't to take away Nicole's talents, but it's almost a bit pathetic that we've been doing this for over a week now and no one has noticed it.

This kind of incompetence would get us scolded in Abel, even if the reasoning behind it wasn't sinister. It shows lack of security, which is odd, considering how strict the laird seems to be.

"What happened on this island, Morag?" Paula asks, and I look over my shoulder to see her gray eyes glancing at the boards listing native species, and then to a sign for deep sea fishing day trips. "It looks beautiful in a rugged sort of way. Plenty of tourist stuff."

Morag nods, her brown eyes holding what I guess are fond memories. "Aye, it was. Niomh means beautiful, you know. Folk have always said this is the most bonny island of the Far Hebrides. They used to run yoga weekends here, writing retreats, that kind of nonsense. We had all sorts pitch up over the years, and not a scrap of common sense between them."

The redhead raises a brow. "So...?"

"Outsiders brought the plague with them. Anywhere with tourists was at risk in the early days."

That catches Tom's attention. "Wait. So there were zombies here?"

She nods. "Aye. The laird was strict about it. No one who was bitten got off Niomh. If you had a graze or a scratch, two weeks on Cri Island, the one with the caring of stones, before you could come to Mor. People weren't happy about it, but well–what could you do? The Reid's have always ruled with a rod of iron."

I shrug. "I mean, that's how communities survived. In America, I hated the base I was in because they were so strict about everything, but they had to be. Not to say everything they did was... ethical, but there had to be hard rules. But um, what happened to the zombies here?"

She cocks her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean 'what do you mean'?" I scoff, gesturing around. "I don't see any zombies. Do you?"

"We didn't see any in the binoculars from the boat either," Janine pipes up, suddenly looking troubled. "So the question is, where did they go?"

"Walked into the sea, maybe?" Morag suggests, but Janine doesn't look convinced.

"Maybe. We must conduct the mission with maximal speed. The sooner we get off this island, the better."

I nod in agreement, picking up the pace a bit. These pathways are forgiving. Even with the years of disuse, there are no cracks or lifts that might make me fall and twist an ankle. I'd hate to have Tom lecture me as he carries me back to the boat because I fell and was deemed unable to perform the mission.

He hasn't said anything else about me not being able to do certain things due to my lack of immortality, which I'm glad about. It honestly hurt a bit to think he saw me so incompetent, even if the concern was coming out of a place of love (or whatever it is that make up our friendship). But he made no fuss about me coming on this mission, nor did he seem to worry about me last night after I'd recovered.