Page 211 of Johnny
She stares at me with those prefect baby-blue-green eyes. Looking like a desperate, lost princess
chained up inside the dragon’s lair.
“No,” I whisper. “You don’t understand.” I swallow hard. “You’re all I’ve got, Megan. You’re the
only good thing I’ve ever had. You can’t do this.”
She stares back at me. Silent.
“Please. Please don’t do this.”
“There’s no other way.”
“There is always another way.”
“I don’t see it, Johnny. When I agreed to do this project with my father it was on one condition.
That no innocent people would die. Only those sick fucks at the top. That’s how we planned it. But the
Way… I didn’t know they were running their own trials based on our drug and giving it to the
children. And that… it changes everything for me. We need to undo this, Johnny. And my father is the
only one who can make that happen.”
“So why are we even going then? Why even tell them? We should turn around. I’ll go back to my
job as banker and—”
“It’s too late,” she whispers. Kissing me softly on the mouth. “We’re here.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - MEGAN
Johnny turns to look at the island. Our auto-pilot cuts the throttle and we coast in towards the
dock.
“What the fuck is that?” Johnny asks. Pointing to the structure on the beach.
“Looks like a tent,” I say. “Maybe they’re going to serve us lunch?”
Johnny huffs and begins manually guiding the yacht towards the dock.
There are half a dozen drones buzzing around the helm as we slide alongside the dock. Not the
fixed-wing kind like last night. But the helicopter kind. The kind with four sets of spinning rotors so
they can nimbly maneuver or simply hover in place as they record video or… whatever they do.
I grab binoculars from a cubbyhole near my knees and train them on the beach. Study the tent.
White. Canvas. Like the kind of thing you see at a garden party or an outdoor wedding reception.
There’s a table underneath it. Set for lunch. So maybe I’m right? Maybe we’ve misunderstood the
intentions of todays’ meeting?
Ha. Good one, Megan.
