Page 28 of Murder Island

I looked back toward the water, about fifty yards away. If I could get there, I could dive deep, maybe get away. I gathered my strength and bolted, knocking down two men in my way.

I felt a crack on my skull and dropped to my knees.

My eyes went blurry. When I could focus again, I felt cold metal against my back. The cannon barrel. I was tied to the front of it.

I heard a female voice and jerked my head around. It was the woman from the first day, the one who spitat me in the shed. She pulled a lighter from her pocket and stepped up behind the cannon. I saw a two-foot fuse dangling from the touchhole.

She lit it.

The men started chanting the single word again. Maybecannon? Maybemurderer? Maybejustice?

At least it would be over in a second. I heard the hiss and crackle of the fuse. I could smell the smoke. I closed my eyes and thought about Kira.

One last time.

Suddenly, the chanting stopped. I turned my head and saw Aaron Vail pushing his way through the crowd in his crisp white suit. I looked behind me. The spark was two inches from the hole. Vail licked two fingers and snuffed it out. The crowd stayed mostly quiet, but there were a few angry shouts.

My knees went wobbly, but the ropes were still holding me up. I knew Vail was no friend, but maybe he could buy me some time. Minutes, even. Enough to bargain, maybe. Not that I had anything to offer.

Suddenly, Vail was in my face. He reached behind me to pat the lip of the cannon. “Dramatic exit,” he said. “But much too quick.”

He turned to the crowd and shouted a few phrases in their language. He sounded like a fire-and-brimstone preacher. The crowd erupted again, happy now. I felt the ropes loosen around my body. Men grabbed my arms and legs.

I whipped my head toward Vail. “What’s happening? What did you say?”

He stepped back and straightened the lapels on his suit jacket. “I told them a child killer deserves a more protracted death.” He smiled that sick little smile. “They totally agree.”

CHAPTER 32

I WAS BEING carried like a carcass out of the hut down toward the dock. I looked back and saw Vail grab the cutlass off the table. Was he about to behead me on the beach? Or slash my throat and let me bleed out like the boys?

No, I thought, too quick. Too merciful. I had a feeling Vail had other plans.

When we got to the beach, the men slammed me down onto the sand, face-first, knocking the air out of my lungs.

I felt a coil of rope land on my legs.

Vail shouted something from the dock. Then I heard his speedboat start up.

I kicked as hard as I could. It took four men to hold my legs together. I felt them wrapping a narrow cord around my ankles. I looked up. The other end ran to the back of the speedboat.

I saw Vail step into the cockpit. He revved the engines.

The men cleared away. I felt a jolt through my body asI was dragged off the beach and into the shallow water. I heard the pitch of the engines rise, and then I was bouncing over the surf on my back. About twenty yards from shore, I got raked over a ridge of sharp coral. It felt like the skin on my back was being torn off. The sting of the saltwater added to the agony. I gritted my teeth against the pain.

Now we were in deep water, moving faster. I tried to hold my head up, but it kept tipping back. Water shot up into my nostrils. I was choking. Drowning. The boat picked up more speed. The ropes cut into my ankles. My knee joints felt like they were about to separate. I waited until my head was underwater to scream. I saw a swirl of white bubbles around my face and then I got pulled to the surface again. The boat made a turn, pulling me in a wide sweep behind it, like bait in the water.

I was dying a slow death by speedboat, and there was nobody to help me.

Then I remembered what Kira always said.

“You have only yourself.”

I took a deep gulp of air and gathered my strength—everything I had left. I crunched myself forward against the force of the water. It was like trying to do a sit-up against a hurricane. I bent forward and grabbed the rope with one hand, then the other, and pulled myself around until I was headfirst. My back was on fire from coral burns. As I bounced on my belly, I could see the back of Vail’s head about fifteen yards ahead. Inch by inch, Imuscled myself forward—closer and closer to the back of the boat.

“Don’t look back, you prick!” I muttered to myself. I knew if Vail turned around, he’d find a way to break my hold. Or maybe he’d just shoot me.

When I was ten feet from the stern, I found a small center of calm between the wake plumes. I pulled myself quickly the rest of the way. I could feel the churn from the twin props a few feet down. One wrong move and I’d be chopped into chum.