The Island

She shook her head. “They’re scared now. I—”

“Are you having a laugh? You have no idea. You seriously think you’re outwitting them? They’re letting you live. They’re just having a wee bit of fun. They don’t tell me everything, but they told me to watch out for you and they told me they’re bringing dogs over from the mainland tomorrow. Bloodhounds. If I let you go, they might track you to here and they’ll ask me questions, and if they see that broken window I’ll have to make up some bullshit about it. You’ve already got me in the crapper. Now, you just sit there and I’ll call Matt, and if you move an inch I’ll blow you in half, so I will!”

“I don’t think you’ll shoot me. You’re a policeman. You know what’s right.”

“I do know what’s right. You killed Ellen and you’re going to pay for that.”

“We’ve already paid for that. They killed my husband, Tom. They killed him in front of me. And now there’s only me to look after those two little children.”

He nodded. “Yes, I heard what Danny did.”

She looked in his eyes. Tried to find answers there.

She had to risk it.

He was terrified of them. But he was an ex-cop.

Ever so slowly, she got out of the sofa and got down on her knees. She clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture. “Please, for the kids.”

“You must be deaf, lady. Deaf like poor Ellen. I can’t help you.”

“You’re really going to let them murder me? And a little boy and a little girl?”

“What can I do? Me against twenty-five of them?”

Heather tried another tack. “My dad was in the army. He, um, talked about soldiers who had lost their moral compass.”

“Is that what I’ve done?”

“Yes. And I think you know it,” she said.

He shook his head. “Everything happens for a reason. Me coming here thirty years ago. You coming here yesterday. Us having this conversation now.”

“Maybe the reason is that you’re supposed to let me go. They’ll never find out about this conversation. They’ll never know you helped me.”

“They’ll know. They’ll find out. They know a lot more than you know and see a lot more than you think. It’s a game to them. They’re letting you run around in their backyard. I’m lucky. They accept me. I’ve done OK by them. And I don’t bother them and they don’t bother me. They pump water to me from their aquifer, let me live in peace.”

“Please.”

“No more pleases. You shouldn’t have tried to escape. Ivan and Jacko are pissed off. Look, I’m not privy to everything they’re up to, but Jacko was telling me what they’re going to do to that Kraut if he doesn’t talk. I don’t want that happening to me.”

Heather swallowed. “What are they going to do to Hans?” she asked.

“Jacko says he still hasn’t told them where you’re hiding out.”

“He doesn’t know. What will they do to him?”

“There’s a big red-ant colony over behind the barn. You must have seen the mound when youse come in?”

“No.”

“Millions of the wee skitters. Old Terry learned that trick in Vietnam,” he said with a shudder.

Heather felt cold all over. “They’re crazy, you can see that,” she said, putting her hands together and leaning forward to beg some more.

“Listen, love, if you move one inch closer, I’m going to shoot you.” He put down the walkie-talkie and cradled the gun in both hands.

“No, you won’t. You’re not the type. I’m not threatening you or doing anything to hurt you. I’ve learned my lesson. I’m getting the water and I’m going to go.”

He was looking at her down the barrel of the shotgun. His finger was on the trigger. She had no doubt now that the weapon was loaded. His knuckles were white; there was sweat on his upper lip, and even in the yellow light she could see that his pupils were dilated. This was not a bluff. One slip of that trigger finger, and he would blow her in half.

She thought of Olivia and Owen.

She swallowed hard and blinked the tears out of her eyes.

So much tension in her shoulders that she felt like she was going to snap.

She knew if he pulled the trigger, she wouldn’t feel a thing. She wouldn’t hear anything. Her life would instantly cut to black. The blackness would last until the end of the universe, when everything would be black.

She swallowed again. “I’m going to back away from you, Rory. I’m going to do it real slow. I’m going to reach over to the bag with my left hand. I’m going to lift it up and gently put it over my shoulder. Then I’m going to walk away and you are never going to see me again. And no one from the farm will know that I was here, and we both come out of this alive.”

“If you touch that bloody bag, I’m going to blow your bloody head off. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you. You’re not going to shoot me, Rory.”

“Believe me, I will.”

She took a deep breath. She had to make him see that letting her go was the win-win solution.

“The cops are going to show up here eventually,” she said. “And when they do, they are going to be asking lots of questions. My husband was a well-known man. There are going to be cops all over this island looking for evidence of what happened to us. They’re going to take you in for questioning.”

“I can handle cops.”

She looked at him. “Why do you stay here? What’s here, Rory?”

“Peace, quiet, birds. Lots of birds.”

“My dad likes birds too.”

“Shearwaters are my favorite. Burrows all over the southern dunes. They fly here from Alaska, if you can believe it.”

She smiled. “You’re not a murderer, Rory. You’re not like them. You’re not part of this yet. You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re police.”

“Maybe you’re right about all of that,” Rory said after a long pause. “Maybe I don’t want to kill you. But I don’t have to. I can shoot this thing at your legs. You’ll be singing a different tune when I blow your kneecaps off. Is that what you want? I’ll bloody do it. Now, sit back down again.”

She felt the sights settle on her lower body.

Shit, he was really going to do it.

His bluff had beaten her bluff.

She wasn’t good at this.

“I’m sitting down,” she said.

Rory rested the shotgun on his lap, picked up the walkie-talkie, and found the right channel. “Oi, Matt are you around?” Static. “Matt?”

“Yes, this is Matt. Who’s this?”

“Rory. You’ll never believe who just walked into my house.”

“Who?”

“The American.”

“You’re kidding! She with the kids?”

“Just her.”

“Are you pulling me leg?” Matt asked.

“Nope. I got her here.”

“Well done, mate! Hold the fort! Me and Kate will be right there. Over and out!”

Rory put down the walkie-talkie, picked up the gun, and grinned at Heather. “Out of my hands now, love. Out of my hands,” he said. “I’m done talking. If you make one more sound I’ll give you both barrels. Let’s just sit here in peace and wait for the others.”





23



Sweat under her ass. Shotgun pointing at her knees. Two 30-watt bulbs eking out a ration of rancid-butter-yellow light. Dust. Three moths. Four flies. Rory’s cracked lips and grim razor-blade smile.