New Year Island by Paul Draker Page A

reached out and tapped her on the foot. “Natalie?”
    Natalie jerked her foot away. “What?”
    “Does your cell phone work out here?”
    Without getting up, Natalie pulled her hand out of her hoodie pocket, holding a phone. She tilted her chin forward, peering at the screen. “Nope.”
    “What is it?”
    “An iPhone.”
    “No. I mean your carrier. A T and T, Verizon, whatever.”
    “Sprint.”
    Camilla exchanged a puzzled look with Jordan and stood up. “Hey, everybody.”
    Faces peered up at her.
    “Can anybody get a signal on their phone right now?” she asked.
    Her sense of unease grew as person after person confirmed a lack of signal across the entire spectrum of mobile carriers.
    “Let’s all save our batteries,” she said. “Turn ‘em off.”
    • • •
    Camilla lay on her side. The darkness crushed in on her from all sides, and she imagined she smelled smoke. She shivered and hugged herself. Her legs ached. She had been drowsing on and off, half asleep and half awake, for the past couple of hours. At least the cold breeze served as a constant reminder that she was out in the open, providing some relief from the claustrophobic press of the dark.
    A little distance away, she could see Juan and Mason, squatting side by side. They were talking quietly about something. What? She strained to hear what they were saying, but couldn’t. Juan’s finger moved on the dock between their heels, tracing something out for Mason. A map? She got the distinct impression that he knew exactly where they were.
    Someone dropped to the boards right next to her. It was Travis, the mechanic. Snake Eyes.
    He leaned back on his elbows beside her, staring out into the darkness in front of them. “Can’t really say this is what I expected.” He nodded to himself. “But I guess that’s all right. As long as we get our shot at that money… Camilla, right?”
    She nodded. This close to her, here in the dark, he made her uncomfortable.
    He pointed out over the water, at an angle from the dock. Camilla figured the shore lay in that direction. “Look right over there,” he said. “Give it a minute or two. Tell me if you see something.”
    She peered in that direction, seeing nothing at first. But after her eyes adjusted, she thought she detected a faint flash, barely visible. It disappeared, but then she caught sight of it again. Then another one, some distance from the first. And then a third, and a fourth. They seemed to form a line, probably along the shore.
    “What do you think they are?” she asked.
    “Can’t rightly say for sure. But I suppose I have some idea.” He paused, fingering the triangle of hair under his lip. “Because what our good buddy Julian said about this thing running twenty-four-seven stuck particularly in my mind.”
    He looked back out at the water. “Had a job few years back pumping gas at an all-night truck stop in Bakersfield. Lonely place at night. Some bad types drifting through, time to time. Year before I started there, trucks out in the lot got broke into four times. Owner couldn’t afford a security guard. So what he did, the owner, he put these cameras up around the lot. Got a break on the insurance that way. Thing was, there weren’t any lights out in the lot. Place was dark as pitch at night. So the cameras, they were infrared.”
    Camilla shifted position, putting a couple more inches between them.
    Travis pointed toward the shore. “I sometimes had occasion to go out into the lot at night,” he said. “If I happened to look directly at one of them cameras when I was passing, I’d see it flash just like that. But sorry if I’m bothering you. Just trying to be friendly.” He got up and moved away.
    Camilla looked toward the invisible shoreline. The flashes seemed sinister now, a row of eyes hidden in the darkness. The idea of large unknown animals roaming out there had been scary enough, but this was worse, somehow. It seemed purposeful, deliberate. Like something huge