Read Online The Terminals by Royce Scott Buckingham - Free Book Online

figured that if she and Ari and Donnie were all on the same page, it was probably legit.
    â€œWe’ll be risking our lives together for the cause,” Donnie continued.
    â€œOkay, okay,” Cam agreed. “I mean I came here, right? So I’m in. What do I say?”
    â€œâ€˜Ouch,’ probably,” red-haired Wally said, and then he cackled with laughter.
    â€œFor the good of the many,” Donnie said, frowning at Wally.
    â€œJust those six words?”
    Gwen harrumphed and adjusted her glasses. “Those six words mean you pledge your life and death to the team and the betterment of the world,” she explained officiously.
    â€œOkay,” Cam said. “A bit grim, but I’ll play along. I hereby pledge my life for the good of the many.”
    But they didn’t move or look particularly convinced.
    â€œSeriously,” Cam added. “Totally.”
    Still, they kept him surrounded.
    Jules grimaced. “There’s a … umm, tattoo involved.”
    Zara pulled a needle-nosed knife from its sheath at her belt. “Where do you want it?”
    *   *   *
    The bonfire on the beach crackled as the surf licked up into the glowing red embers of the lower level of the wood pyramid Ward had taught them to construct to start fires. Before it collapsed in on itself, it had been taller than Cam, and when it really got going they couldn’t approach within five feet of it.
    Wally ran and leaped over burning logs, screeching like a wild man until his pant leg caught fire. Then he ran to roll in the incoming waves. Cam was fascinated by his antics, considering he hadn’t had anything to drink.
    Donnie, on the other hand, had plowed through seven beers in a little over an hour before putting his arm around Cam and declaring Cam’s sand-throwing offense during his running of the gauntlet forgiven. Cam thanked him, but didn’t know what to make of it. For some guys, drinking together was a bonding experience that lent solemnity to their words. Others simply forgot their promises the next day. He didn’t have a good enough read on Donnie to know which type he was.
    One thing Cam did know was that Gwen worshiped the guy—she watched Donnie with her lips pursed as though worried he might wander off, and she hurried to retrieve him a fresh can of beer or squeeze herself into the seat next to him when he plopped down on the log they had dragged down from the bluff. She grimaced as she sipped from a sweating silver can of Cerveza Maximo herself, obviously uncomfortable with the taste, but trying hard to fit in.
    Tegan watched in silence, his thoughts impossible to read.
    Zara, on the other hand, lounged like a great cat, stretching her legs out on the sand and propping herself up on an elbow. She wore a snug T-shirt and confronted the males that snuck glances at it with steady, narrowed eyes until they looked away like losers of a grade-school staring contest. Cam lasted all of five seconds before he withered under her glare.
    All in all, it felt like a party in paradise, one meant to welcome Cam to the club, except that they were all going to die, which cast a bit of an unmentioned pall over the celebration.
    â€œWhat’s this organization called anyway?” Cam asked no one in particular.
    â€œNothing,” Jules said.
    â€œI get the distinct impression they don’t use an identifiable moniker for security reasons,” Gwen explained.
    Wally hopped to his feet. “We should name it!”
    Ari grinned. “How about Saviors of the Damn Universe?”
    â€œSaviors of the Universe is already a band out of Seattle,” Cam said.
    â€œBut I added the word ‘damn,’” Ari argued good-naturedly.
    Gwen’s brow furrowed. “I don’t think we should…”
    â€œLast Gasp?” Owen said.
    Jules shook her head. “Depressing. Next.”
    â€œSerenity for All,” Calliope suggested.
    Zara