Free The Fields of Lemuria by Sam Sisavath

boat parked in the water.
    Not even a life raft, he remembered thinking. Where did all the boats go?
    Here, apparently. They all came here.
    “The supplies from the houses,” Keo said, looking back at Zachary. “You guys took them. The water, nonperishable food, weapons…”
    “Most of them,” Zachary nodded. “We got all the weapons we need, so we dumped most of them into the lake. Too dangerous to just leave behind.”
    “For who?”
    “Us. We don’t know you from Adam, kid.”
    “Gotta look after our own,” Shorty said. “Boss’s orders.”
    “This Allie?” Keo said.
    “Yup,” Zachary said. “That’s her over there.”
    A tall African-American woman had come out of the cabin of the houseboat and was climbing over the side railing and onto the dock. He couldn’t tell how old she was from the distance, but she looked comfortable in cargo pants and a white T-shirt, and she was raising a radio to her lips just before Zachary’s own radio squawked in the back of the canoe.
    “Any trouble?” the woman, Allie, asked through the radio.
    “We made sure no one saw us pushing off,” Zachary said. “You worry too much.”
    “If I’m not worrying, you should be, Zach. We just put some fish on the grill for you guys.”
    “Much appreciated.”
    “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”
    Keo looked back at Zachary. “I need to get back to land. My friend is still out there. You understand loyalty, don’t you?”
    “I do,” Zachary said, but then shook his head. “But it’s not up to me. You’ll have to talk to Allie.”
    “So, she’s really in charge.”
    “Yup. She’s really in charge.”
    “Girl power, and all that,” Shorty chuckled in front of him.
    “That, and she’s smarter than the rest of us,” Zachary said.
    “That’s a matter of opinion,” Shorty said.
    Allie had walked up the wooden planks to the end of the dock and was waiting for them as they coasted toward her. Two men, both in their twenties, had appeared alongside her at the same time. One of them grabbed a rope and tossed it over to Shorty, while the other man, a redhead, stood back with a hunting rifle cradled in his arms, eyeing Keo.
    “This him?” Allie said.
    “That’s him,” Shorty said. “Mister San Diego.”
    “Keo,” Zachary said, “this is Allie.”
    Allie looked him up and down, and he took the opportunity to do the same to her. Early thirties, attractive, about five-seven, and with clearly intelligent eyes. The kind of woman who would have intimidated him in a bar, though of course that wouldn’t have chased him away.
    “You wanna tell me what you and your friends were doing running around the park, shooting it up?” she asked.
    “They’re not my friends,” Keo said.
    “Then who are they?”
    “What do you call people trying to murder you?”
    Allie frowned. “Do they have a reason?”
    “Depends on your perspective.”
    She looked past him at Zachary. “He sounds like trouble, Zach. You should have saved us the trouble and just shot him and tossed his body in the lake.”
    “Still not too late for that,” Shorty said, climbing out of the canoe. “It’s a big lake.”
    My big mouth, Keo thought, and said quickly, “I was told you had questions, then you’ll let me go.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “We’ll see.”

CHAPTER 7
    “How many are we talking about?” Allie asked.
    “I saw around ten,” Keo said.
    “But that’s not all of them.”
    “No.”
    “Stop beating around the bush. How many more are running around the park right now with machine guns?”
    “Assault rifles.”
    “What?”
    “They’re carrying around mostly assault rifles. I haven’t seen a machine gun among them yet.”
    “What’s the difference?”
    “Well, machine guns are—”
    “I don’t care,” she interrupted. “How many more?”
    He smiled. “I was told around fifty.”
    “That’s a lot.”
    “Yup.”
    He followed her the short distance from the dock to the houseboat. It was beige,