Free Affliction Z (Book 3): Descended in Blood by L.T. Ryan Page B

casual scan of the water for a distance as close as thirty feet away.
    He pushed off the pylons, propelling himself backward. He kept his head out of the water. Even the tiniest splash could have a runoff effect and neutralize the matting.
    After several seconds, he used his left arm to swim away from the pier. Cloudy skies nullified the sun’s bright rays, casting a gloom over everything. Better for him. The water would reflect the gray.
    Turk treaded the same patch of water for a few minutes. He focused on the entrance. The shadows past the domed opening made it impossible to see more than a few feet in. But he watched, looking for any sign of a guard. The glowing cherry of a cigarette. A glint of light off a ring or watch. Shifting shadows, indicating someone moving. There was none of that. Didn’t mean that the entrance was unguarded. What it meant was that Turk could remain clandestine while approaching the gate at an angle.
    The large fort offered several other places to position sentries. The way Turk recalled it, some spots along the roof had a walkway bordered by a brick railing. Someone standing there would be visible from the waist up. But if they knelt, the walkway offered a suitable play to stand watch. Three people on duty would be enough. One watching the Atlantic. On a watch dial, he’d be at twelve o’clock. The other two would be positioned at four and eight, with responsibilities to watch from the tip of the beaches inward to an imaginary line that ran from the pier through the harbor into Charleston.
    From Turk’s position in the water, the eight o’clock sentry would be easiest to spot so long as the guard hadn’t already noticed Turk floating below.
    He watched the roofline for five minutes.
    Nothing moved. He surmised the fort was either empty, undermanned, or run by idiots.
    He considered going on shore. But doing so while unarmed exposed him to a great amount of risk. Was it worth it?
    Turk decided to circle around and investigate the Atlantic side of the island. The grass and sand might offer better cover for an approach. It might also be where boats were stored since none were moored to the piers. It made sense. The barren stretch of land was not visible from much of the harbor. If they butted the boats up to the fort walls, they’d be out of sight. And if there were people there, some had to have arrived by boat. The vessels might be damaged, but if they made it to the fort, they were worth investigating.
    Rounding the island to the north, he reached a point where he could see past the fort. His hunch had been right. There were a few small boats and kayaks close by.
    He fought to keep the discovery from hastening his approach. His weakened condition meant his muscles could cramp up at any time. Better to take it slow. Also, boats meant people. And he hadn’t seen a damn one of them yet. Where were they? Inside? Fishing on the shore? Dead?
    How long can I stay out here?
    His arms, shoulders and back burned. He had to hydrate and rest his muscles before they locked up on him. Twenty years ago, it wouldn’t have been an issue. But on the other side of forty, there were limitations.
    Get to the point of the island.
    That was all he had to do. The grass was tall and unkempt and stretched to the shore there. He would have a view of the broad side of the base and the barren side of the island, and could plan the best approach to reach the boats.
    He made it twenty yards when he heard a voice carried on the wind.
    “There.”
    Turk allowed only his eyes and forehead to break the water’s surface. Didn’t matter. He’d been spotted.
    “He’s right there. He’s watching us!”
    There was no chance for a rebuttal. Turk saw the two men rise. Then they brought their rifles up and aimed at him. The first one shot before Turk could get his arms out of the water.
    The bullet smacked the gentle surface of the water a foot from Turk’s head. Too close for a warning shot. Turk sucked in enough air to