Page 12 of Murder Island

Kira started walking toward the back.

“Hey!” I called out. “What are we here for?”

No reply.

The small chamber narrowed to a stone arch, barely high enough to fit under. Kira went through first. I ducked my head and followed—reluctantly. I was worried about cave-ins. And bats. I really hated bats.

I caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye.

“Jesus!”A small black lizard flitted across my bare foot.

Kira grabbed my arm. “I’ll be damned,” she said. “X marks the spot.”

When I looked up, I saw what she was talking about.

From the light of the lantern, I could make out five huge wooden chests against the back wall, all with thick padlocks. Nearby was a stack of tools—sledgehammers, axes, shovels. Two more kerosene lanterns sat on a rickety wooden table.

Nothing in here was from this century.

I found a tin of waterproof matches and lit a second lantern. The chamber was a rough oval, about thirty feet across. The ceiling went as high as a ship’s mast. I ran my hand over one of the chests. It looked thick and sturdy, with tarnished brass hardware.

“What is this?” I asked. “Blackbeard’s treasure?”

“No,” said Kira. “Doc Savage’s.”

I stared at her for a few seconds. Damnit. Why did my ancestor keep coming back to haunt me?

“Hold on,” I said. “Doc Savage was born here. But he didn’t live here. Andros was never his home.”

“Correct,” said Kira. “He only came back once, in his midthirties. Sailed all the way from New York. Same course we just took.”

“Why? Why did he come back?”

“Because there were things he wanted to hide. Things he knew weren’t safe anywhere else.”

“And who was he hiding them from?”

Kira rested her lamp on one of the chests. “From John Sunlight. My great-grandfather.”

At the sound of the name, my gut twisted a little. Sometimes I had to remind myself that my ancestor and Kira’s had been mortal enemies. The truth was, she and I were descended from two men who were hell-bent on destroying each other. It wasn’t a topic I liked to dwell on. I preferred to leave all that poison in the past. But somehow, it kept bubbling up. Like Kira told Denise, it was complicated.

“Grab a hammer,” said Kira. She pointed to the lock on the first chest.

I set my lantern down and pulled a sledgehammer from the pile of tools. Kira stepped back.

I planted my feet directly in front of the chest. I lifted the hammer over my head and brought it down hard on the lock. The metal sparked, but the lock held. I tookanother swing. Direct hit. The shackle broke and flew off the hasp.

“Well, don’t stop there,” said Kira.

I hoisted the hammer again and moved from chest to chest, smashing the locks off one by one. When I was finished, I dropped the hammer in the sand. Kira and I stepped up to the first chest together.

I lifted the lid. We peeked inside. I heard a small hiss.

Kira dropped to the ground in a heap.

Me next.

CHAPTER 13