Black Sun

By the time they came out the front, Hawker had wrapped his hand in a towel and the three of them were in worker’s overalls. They walked along the front of the grounds, Yuri holding on to Danielle.

Police sirens wailed as guests began pouring out of their rooms.

Sneaking past the valet, Hawker grabbed a set of keys and in a minute the four of them were driving off in a stolen rental car.

“Everyone okay?” Hawker asked.

“Except for you,” McCarter said.

“How’s Yuri?”

In the mirror, Hawker saw Danielle run a soothing hand over the boy’s shoulder. She looked up. “He seems fine.”

He did seem fine. The look in his eyes was flat, as if the madness had not even happened.

“Those guys weren’t Kang’s,” Danielle said.

“Russians,” Hawker said. “I figured we’d have to deal with them sooner or later. But I was definitely hoping for later.”

“How the hell did they find us?” she asked.

It was the same question he’d asked about Kang’s men on the water. He had no answer. They were an odd grouping, a white man and woman with an injured black man and a Russian child. That kind of diversity made them easy to spot but it wasn’t like they’d stayed in one place.

Hawker looked over at McCarter in the passenger seat. “When the hell did you get afraid of heights?”

“Two years ago, in that rattletrap helicopter of yours,” he said. “I pinpoint my phobia to that exact moment.”

Hawker laughed. He hoped McCarter was joking, because their next move would take them back into the air.

Ivan Saravich walked through the decimated hotel suite, heading toward the balcony through which his quarry had just escaped. Glass crunched under his feet and he could hear the sound of police sirens wailing in the distance.

To the left, one of his men lay dead, a long wedge of glass sticking out of his neck; two others were badly injured and a trickle of blood ran down his own side where several pellets of buckshot had caught him.

As his two remaining men helped their wounded comrades, Saravich stepped out onto the balcony.

“Get them to the van,” he said without looking back.

“What about Gregor?” one man asked.

Saravich shook his head. “Leave him,” he said. “He ca

The men shuffled out and Ivan looked around. A glass of rum lay undisturbed on the balcony table. He picked it up, sniffed the aroma, and then raised it to his missing adversary.

That’s twice the luck was with you. The third time it will be mine.

He downed it in one gulp and stepped back inside. As he was heading for the door, something caught his eye. Lying on the floor beside the overturned table was a large, unfolded map. He crouched down to grab it. To his surprise, he saw several places circled and a black line drawn across it.

Saravich smiled. Perhaps the luck was with him already.

CHAPTER 43

Thirty minutes from the hotel, now in possession of a different, legally obtained vehicle, Danielle, Hawker, McCarter, and Yuri were traveling north, back toward the more crowded sections of the coast near Cancun, headed for the airport.

Danielle sat in the back trying to communicate with Yuri in Russian. He had grown frantic and with the stone now so close to him again, he could not settle down.

“Yuri, we’re going to a new place,” she said. “It will be all right.”

He looked at her and then at the backpack containing the stone. “Brighter,” he said in Russian. “Brighter.” He covered his eyes.

They’d assumed this stone’s power wave matched the one from Brazil, but what if it didn’t? She wondered if it was near to peaking now.

“What do you see?” she asked in Russian.

He held his hand out, demonstrating curved lines. “Yellow,” he said.

“Is it hurting you?” she asked.

He did not respond.

“Does it hurt your eyes?” she asked. “Does the brightness hurt your head?” She touched the side of her temple.

He shook his head. “Yellow is good,” he said. “Blue, no good, darker then it hurts.”

Danielle was thankful for what he said. She noticed he’d gotten more used to having the stone around since the night before, but she guessed that would change if it began to power up again.

Their current guesstimate had the next scheduled peak coming in about five hours, an event she suspected would be a “normal” burst, nothing like the energy wave released on the boat. It could still be problematic. They would have to time their actions accordingly.

She stroked Yuri’s hair and he pressed into the seat, leaning against her. One thing for sure, the kid was a trouper.

Ahead of her, Professor McCarter sat in the front passenger seat. He seemed to be focused on pain in his leg. He touched the skin around the dressing, gingerly probing the bruised muscle.

“You all right?” Danielle asked.

“Either I hurt myself in the fall or the infection is coming back.”

“I’ll give you another dose of the antibiotics,” she said.

“Not right now,” he said. “I feel a little queasy. Let’s get settled somewhere first.”

She relented and looked over at Hawker. They were picking their way toward the local airport in heavy traffic along a narrow, two-lane road. They had been moving steadily earlier but it had become stop-and-go now.

“How the hell can a little town like this have so much traffic?” Hawker grumbled.

“Didn’t you see all those hotels along the beach?” Danielle said.

Hawker didn’t reply; he just switched on the radio. After sca

Danielle guessed it might have been the BBC Worldwide.

… they’ve come here by the thousands to celebrate this Mayan milestone. Serious scholars, curious travelers, and New Wave crystal worshippers searching for something called the vortex. Above all, tens of thousands of vacationers, mostly Americans and Europeans expecting a party that should be a cross between Mardi Gras and New Year’s Eve, with much nicer weather.

Until recently, that’s exactly what they’d gotten. All enjoying themselves and eagerly awaiting that ultimate moment when the Mayan calendar hits its end and rolls over to begin again. Most just smile and laugh when any talk of a cataclysm is raised. At least that was the case, until midday yesterday when an unexplained shock wave plunged half the country into darkness.

Hawker turned the broadcast up just a bit.

Officials insist the blackout was caused by an overload from the U.S. grid, after a mishap in the top-secret Groom Lake air base. But many insist a shock wave was felt here and was particularly strong along the coast. This, combined with what might have been a terrorist attack at one of the hotels earlier today and the sudden uptick in tensions worldwide, has the vast majority of these travelers trying desperately to get home.

End of the world or not, most of the travelers I talked to aren’t in the mood to stick around and find out.

Hawker shut off the radio and Danielle stared through the traffic up ahead of them. They were a mile or so from the entrance to the airport. She could see units of the Mexican army and riot police around the gates. Every car that passed was being checked and rechecked.

“They may have our description,” she said. “Not sure I want to chance making it through security.”

“I wasn’t pla

“You mean stealing one,” she replied.

“It’s not stealing if you bring it back.”

She laughed. Perfect Hawker logic.

“This is too hot, though,” he said. “Too many people. Too much security.”