I am alone in this world.
Tommy leaned against her. She gripped him in turn. He glanced at her, moonlight shining in his eyes, his gaze full of fear but also gratefulness that she was near.
He needed her.
And I need you, she suddenly realized.
Iscariot joined them, stepping forward amid a flutter of emerald wings, the moths released from a hold in the side of the craft. She refused to shy from the unspoken threat and kept her back stiff.
“It is time,” he said and took Tommy’s shoulders.
He turned the boy to face the cliffs—and his destiny.
6:12 A.M.
Erin held Christian’s heavy head in her lap as Jordan idled their listing boat toward the dark dock of the oil platform. The three of them were alone on the boat. Rhun and Bernard had slipped into the water when they were a hundred yards off and swam to the dock on their own. From a distance away, she saw a small scuffle of shadows, a strangled cry—then Rhun had flashed a signal that it was safe for them to continue to the dock.
Jordan nudged the boat forward.
The pair of Sanguinists had made it clear that she and Jordan were to hang back until the way ahead was clear. Rhun’s and Bernard’s keen senses would pick out and dispatch any threats.
“Keep down,” Jordan warned her as they fell under the shadow of the platform above. He kept one hand on the wheel, the other on a rifle, the weapon dropped by one of the men Bernard had killed earlier. She ducked her head low over Christian, watching Jordan.
Jordan’s eyes surveyed every strut and catwalk above, clearly not fully trusting the Sanguinists to keep them safe. The weight of the massive structure seemed to press down upon them. Far above, electric lights blazed, but the lower area was mostly dark, a shadowy world of concrete pillars, steel stairs, and a crisscrossing maze of ramps and bridges.
The Zodiac limped past the bulk of a huge luxury hydrofoil docked in a neighboring berth.
Jordan looked at it closely—and perhaps a bit enviously. “Guy’s got bank,” he mumbled, with a weak attempt at levity.
She gave him a quick smile to let him know that she appreciated the gesture. A minute later, the Zodiac bumped to a stop at a steel dock.
Jordan held out an arm, his palm down, urging her to remain low. He watched closely for several long breaths, then waved her up.
Erin shifted higher. The salty wind felt good against her face.
Jordan hopped off, shouldering his rifle and quickly tying off the boat. He then crouched next to her in the boat. They were to await Rhun and Bernard’s return.
It did not take long.
A shadow shed from above and landed silently on the steel treads of the dock. Rhun joined them, followed a moment later by Bernard. Both had knives bared and bloody. Erin wondered how many men they had killed tonight.
Bernard sheathed his blade and helped Erin to haul Christian quickly from the boat, then the cardinal carried his body from there.
“The way up should be clear,” Rhun said. “But we must take care when we reach the structure on top.”
He led them to a long metal staircase that corkscrewed around the neighboring concrete pillar and rose to the platform above. Once on the stairs, Rhun passed Jordan a machine pistol. He must have confiscated it from one of the guards.
Jordan shouldered his rifle and took the more agile weapon.
“Don’t fire unless you must,” Rhun warned. “My blade is more silent.”
He nodded, as if they were talking about their golf swings.
As they climbed higher and higher, Erin concentrated on hanging tightly to the cold slippery metal rail. Winds whipped at her in sudden gusts. She came across one landing slick with blood and stepped gingerly around the stain, trying not to picture the slaughter.
Ahead of her, Jordan’s boots ascended more confidently. Behind her, the cardinal seemed to have no trouble climbing while carrying Christian over his shoulder.
Rhun had disappeared above again, but his presence was plain. She heard a soft thud somewhere over her head. Moments later, they reached the top of the winding stairs. The electric lights seemed too stark and cold after the shadows below.
Rhun stood over the body of another guard.
Jordan joined him, crouched low, his pistol high.
Erin huddled with Bernard at the top of the stairs while the other two made a fast canvass of the immediate area. Up this high, the winds crashed against her, whipping her hair, snapping her leather jacket.
Finally, Rhun and Jordan returned.
“Place is a ghost town,” Jordan said. “Must keep only a skeletal crew here.”
Rhun pointed to the towering superstructure. “There’s a doorway over there.”
They sprinted as a group across the open decking. The structure ahead appeared to be a rendition of an old sailing ship’s forecastle, down to the tall windows, faux rigging, even a bowsprit with a figurehead. It looked like a ship cresting upward out of a steel sea.