Free Carlie Simmons (Book 5): One Final Mission by JT Sawyer Page A

drills, weapons maintenance,
cross-training in each other’s skill sets, and net-mending were the norm unless
they were out on fishing trips or salvage missions in Osaka. There were two
women in their late twenties or early thirties named Yamiko and Arisu, who were
both as meek as the day he first rescued them. Despite their unassuming
appearance both had proven themselves to be savage fighters. Arisu’s nursing skills
and Yamiko’s ability as a seamstress had served their group well. They kept to
themselves, mostly being courteous to Nora though Arisu often derided the
American woman behind her back.   
    The other three men, Daichi, Haru, and
Naoki were in their thirties and forties. Haru was missing an arm at the elbow
from an encounter with a goryo on the docks when they arrived at the aquaplex.
Nora’s swift removal of the limb had saved him and he had since taken on the
daily duty of camp cook to contribute in some way. Daichu had once been an
Olympic gymnast and his considerable strength combined with Shiro’s technical
prowess had swung many a battle in their favor. An old neck injury kept him
from being on the supply runs and he spent most of his time maintaining the
day-to-day operations of the aquaplex. Naoki was the quietest of the group. He
had been preparing to renounce the world and become a full-time Buddhist monk
when the pandemic struck. He was a shrewd fighter but had to be dragged along
on supply runs and fishing trips, wanting rather to withdraw from the world
into his own thoughts or his stacks of books.
    While their physical survival had been
more assured at the aquaplex, Shiro knew that they were just holding on
mentally. The monotonous routine, the lack of sunlight from their nocturnal
lifestyle, and the bland group dynamics made him ever more certain that a trip
abroad in search of an island—any island—was something they had to undertake.
Otherwise, they were just living like post-apocalyptic cellmates in their urban
purgatory. With the odd assemblage of personalities and the social
stratification that still persisted, the social dynamics could be likened to a
gathering of unfamiliar relatives that assemble every five years for a
perfunctory reunion.
    With the coming of September, they planned
to depart on a large sailing boat piloted by Nora. There was a string of
islands in the Pacific that was just under a week’s voyage away and the trade
winds would have shifted in their favor by the time they were finished
gathering supplies.
    The aquatics building met their physical
needs but had no sense of ambience, being strictly utilitarian. Yamiko had
erected a handmade Shinto shrine in the corner of the gym, near a dance room. There
was a hand-drawn sketch of Ameratsu, the Sun Goddess and another indicating a
serpentine figure. The latter symbolized a kami, or spirit, associated with the
hot spring that flowed into the pool in the floor below. The diminutive shrine provided
a place for people to meditate, pray, or leave offerings as their beliefs
dictated. Shiro had thought of using the shrine on more than one occasion but
didn’t want to have anyone see him in supplication. Instead, he saved his
spiritual reflections for his lookout duties on the roof. There he whispered
prayers to his brother, seeking forgiveness but knowing it could never be paid
through mere words. Though he tried to mask his feelings, Shiro felt a strange
connection to Nora’s infant son, Tyler, and was determined to protect him and
his overly gregarious mother at any cost. That the boy had arrived just after
his brother’s passing had to be a portend of some kind. He felt that
safeguarding the child was his last chance to atone for his past crimes and a
way of making things right with both the world of the living and the other
realm that all flesh eventually yielded to.
    “Can’t sleep, eh?” said Nora, who was
peeking her head out from the blue curtain beside her sleeping area. “Me
neither—too nervous about our