War of the Island
They came for his blood. They didn't expect the island to want it back.
Jack Kamping brought his wife to a lake that isn't on any map. On the second night a helicopter took out the Wi-Fi and left them there.
Sixty men land at dawn. They've been told Jack is the only target, and that whatever else lives in the water stays there until dark.
But the island is awake, and so is the lake, and both have been waiting for him since he was twenty-one. What comes out of the canopy has wings, and it takes memories when it bites. What lives under the water is a hundred feet long and moves whole shorelines when it turns. Neither will tell him why they rise when he moves.
And something is happening to Jack that nobody planned. Every hour on that island he is a little less than he was-the strength, the endurance, the thing in his blood the whole world has been killing for. Whatever is down there put it in him. Now it is taking it back, and it isn't asking.
Sixty men have three hours of daylight.
The island has ninety-five years.
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