He said, “You know of anyplace where we could hide out and still keep an eye on that runway?”
Gina frowned, considering. “There’s a lookout post near the top of Weston Mountain.” She pointed. The peak loomed to her left, its summit wreathed in fog that hid the tiny, tumbledown cabin on sky-high stilts that was the lookout post. “Well, the remains of one. You can see the whole camp from there. When it isn’t so foggy, that is. Artillery Hill”—she pointed toward the west, where fog obscured the lower-elevation knob near the bay—“has some old Quonset huts still standing. Plus there are storage sheds all over the place. And caves.”
He looked interested. “Caves?”
She nodded. “There’s this massive cave system throughout the mountains. Lots of natural caves, and then the Japanese apparently dug tunnels connecting them so that they could move around the island and launch guerrilla attacks on our guys during World War Two.”
“Any in the right place so we can shelter in it while keeping watch on the runway?”
“The entrance to one is up there.” Gina pointed to nearby Terrible Mountain, the southern face of which overlooked the camp.
“And you know this how?”
“Some of the puffins I’m studying have burrows up around it. I’ve seen the entrance, but I’ve never been inside the cave.”
“How long approximately would it take us to get there?”
“Without going back through camp”—which would be the quickest and shortest route—“probably about four hours. We’d have to go through Jackson Pass.”
“You know how to get there from here?”
“Yes. Theoretically.”
“That’s good enough. Let’s check it out. We going the right way?”
Gina nodded. They had reached the point where the trail started narrowing, and he made a gesture to her to precede him, saying, “Lead on, Macduff.”
That made her shoot him an aren’t-you-funny glance over her shoulder, but she kept going, climbing doggedly up the icy path, taking the left-leading fork despite the fact that it snaked around the edge of a cliff that fell away into clouds and felt as thin and perilous as a tightrope underfoot. There were a couple of questions she had to ask, and she braced herself for answers she was pretty sure she wasn’t going to like.
Glancing at him over her shoulder, she said, “Why would we rather hide in a cave than, say, a Quonset hut?”
Their eyes met, and there was something in his that told her she’d been right about not liking the answer she was about to hear.
“If they haven’t already, they’re going to be launching a massive search for us. Not just a ground search, but a high-tech scan of the island. Thermal imaging, infrared, satellite pictures, the whole bag of tricks. If we’re in a cave, there’s less chance of us showing up on anything. Get deep enough inside a mountain and even thermal imaging won’t be able to spot us.”
Okay, she’d known she wasn’t going to like it.
“Who are these people?” she burst out. That was another question she really didn’t want to hear the answer to, but now she reluctantly concluded that she needed to know.
He was close behind her. His broad frame blocked the worst of the wind that was huffing past in great gusts now, and once again she wondered whether he was shielding her intentionally.
He said, “I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know when I am.”
That sounded evasive. She glanced back at him, but his face told her absolutely nothing. She decided to mark that as a topic to be pursued later and moved on to what she considered a more urgent question. “Why do we need to watch the runway?”
“Because after it lands, we’re going to steal the plane that’s coming in.” He said it like it was the most reasonable thing in the world.
Gina stopped dead and turned to face him. “What?”
“Careful.” His hands shot out to steady her, catching her upper arms and curling around them. He was clearly concerned with the drop-off beside them, while she, having traversed this trail a number of times, barely noticed it. He continued, “We need to get off this island. That’s the quickest and surest way I can think of to do it.” Turning her back around, he gave her a little push that started her walking again. “Keep going. You want to be out here in the open when whatever’s blowing in hits?”
That last was a rhetorical question, so she didn’t reply. Anyway, even as she started walking again her mind was busy boggling. Just the thought of stealing a plane and escaping in it felt impossible.
“That’s crazy.” She was suddenly short of breath, and not from the climb.
“You worried I can’t fly us out of here? I can.”
No, no, no. Gina shook her head emphatically. “I’m worried that trying to steal a plane, much less fly it out of here, is stupid.” Her mouth felt dry. “They’ll catch us. The smart thing to do is hide and wait. The ship that brought most of us here will be back in five days. So will the Reever—the plane that brought the rest of us.”