Bray saw the confusion on Hawkins’s face. “Highlander, the movie. ‘There can be only one.’ No? Nothing? Forget it. When they couldn’t get a lot of spiderwebs from the spiders, they made a chimera from spiders. And goats. Instead of producing milk, the goats now squirt out spider silk. How fu—”
A second thud, louder than the first, reverberated from the floor above.
“What’s going on up there?” Bray asked.
Hawkins said nothing. He sat up in bed, listening. But the sound did not repeat. He slid his feet onto the floor. “I’m going to check it out.”
Bray once again shrugged off the interruption, but had finished his lecture. He picked up the sketch pad from the desk and flipped through the images. Most were quick sketches of wildlife, sometimes landscapes or random images of whatever happened to be in front of Hawkins at the time.
Hawkins stood to leave, but Bray’s next words froze him in place.
“Oh ho!” Bray said, stopping his rapid-fire page flipping. “Nice.”
He turned the sketch pad around so Hawkins could see the drawing. It was a detailed sketch of Joliet. In a bikini. She’d been tanning on deck when he came across her. He had realized she was sleeping when he spoke to her, but got no reply. After finishing the sketch, he woke her with a cough so she wouldn’t get sunburned. But he never mentioned the drawing. Not to Joliet. Or Bray. “Say a word about that and I’ll make you afraid to close your eyes at night.”
Bray laughed and turned the pages again. “Fine. Fine. Just say something to her soon. Your pining is killing me.”
“I don’t pine,” Hawkins said.
“I work in a high school,” Bray replied. “I know pining when I see it.” He stopped flipping pages again. “What’s this?”
Bray showed Hawkins the image. It was a sketch of the pillbox he’d done from memory before drawing the draco-snakes.
“That’s the pillbox,” Hawkins said.
Bray pointed to the text above the entrance. “Looks Japanese.”
“Know what it says?” Hawkins asked.
“I think we’ve established that neither of us reads Japanese, or maybe you think I just struggle with the word ‘broccoli’? Drake might know, though. He’s been around the world a few times.”
A third loud bang sounded from above. This time, the boom was followed by rapid-fire bumps moving across the ceiling.
“Someone’s running,” Bray commented.
Hawkins looked at him. “Where’s Joliet?”
17.
Hawkins went for the door as the thumping sound overhead moved quickly away. Someone’s running, he thought as he twisted the door handle. But why? He pulled the door open to an empty hallway. The stairwell on the right side of the hall was also empty.
But he could hear someone descending the stairs two at a time. The light step and quick puffs of air revealed the runner as Joliet. Running a treadmill in calm or rough seas never gave her any trouble and she breathed the same way when she exercised.
“Joliet, what are—”
“Back!” she shouted before reaching the bottom. “Get in your room!”
Joliet emerged from the stairs a moment later. Blood ran from her forehead over her cheek.
Hawkins stayed frozen in place, trying to comprehend why Joliet was running and how she’d been injured.
Joliet, on the other hand, barreled toward him like a Pamplona bull. “Get back!” She shoved Hawkins back inside the room.
Hawkins was about to ask her what the hell was going on when he heard a second set of footfalls coming from the stairwell. And those feet sounded much heavier. Joliet was being chased, by someone large. He clenched his fist and headed for the door. “Bray.”
“I’m with you, Ranger,” Bray said, coming up behind him.
But Joliet stopped them in their tracks by slamming the door closed. She pushed the button lock, but didn’t look relieved at all. “We need to block the door!”
“Blok the door?” Bray said. “Who the hell is out there.”
“I don’t know! Just block the door!”
Loud footsteps approached the door. Hawkins thought he could actually feel each footfall vibrating through the floor.
“Joliet,” Hawkins said, taking her shoulders in his hands. “If it’s anyone from the crew, we can handle them.”
She shook her head, eyes darting back and forth. She shrugged away from Hawkins and darted across the small room. She picked up the metal desk chair and ran back to the door. She wedged the chair under the doorknob and stood back.
Bray smiled and shook his head. “Okay, so now that we have a locked metal door with a chair, would you mind telling us what—”
An explosive impact pounded the door from the other side. It shook, but remained intact. The very loud and sudden sound made Joliet, Bray, and Hawkins jump away from the door.
“Hey!” Bray shouted, his embarrassment about being frightened turning quickly to anger. “Who’s out there! Cut the shit or I’m going to—”
The second impact bent the top of the door inward. The bend was slight, not quite an inch, but the strength it would require to bend the metal door wasn’t lost on Hawkins.
Or Bray. “Goddamn, is he using a sledgehammer?”
Hawkins took Joliet’s face and turned her eyes to his. “Who is it?”