Page 81 of Murder Island
“Samaka! Samaka!”Halima was shouting. Her pole was bent into a steep curve. Kira and I jumped up as the tiny girl leaned back and reeled in a huge silver-green fish. She trapped it with her bare foot as it flopped onto the deck, then pulled out the hook and tossed her catch into a hatch. She reached into a small bucket squirming with live sardines. Within ten seconds, she rebaited the hook and threw her line out again.
“She’s very quick,” I said.
Dahir grinned as he checked his own line. “Most days, she catches more than me.”
Ayann told us that the family came from a small village near Burgabo. For most of the year, they lived and worked on the boat, chasing schools of bonito and Spanish mackerel up and down the coast. It was too dangerous to live inland. For years, rogue militias had been kidnapping children and trafficking them, or turning them into soldiers.
“That was your boat?” Ayann asked. “The one that sank?”
Kira glanced at me. “No, not ours,” she said. “We were just… passengers.”
The family had seen the explosions, said Ayann. They lit up the sky. First one bang, then an even bigger one.
“Did you see any other survivors?” Kira asked. “Any bodies?”
Ayann shook her head. “Only you two.”
I looked at Kira. Cal had wired himself with the first charge, then timed the main charge to follow. He wanted to be sure there was nothing left. We’d been very, very lucky. If Kira and I hadn’t been blown off the top deck, we would have gone down with the ship.
Then my mind spun to another outcome.
What if I’d survived without Kira? What if I’d found her dead, instead of alive? For me, life wouldn’t have been worth living.
That night, Kira and I watched the stars come out together. We’d given the family back their cabin, which was their bedroom. We were lying on the roof as the boat bobbed gently, anchored somewhere in the middle of the sea.
“I’m sorry for all this,” Kira said. “For everything I’ve put you through.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said.
“Itismy fault,” she said. “If you’d never met me, you’d still be Professor Brandt Savage, PhD. You’d be back inChicago teaching anthropology. I should have just left you there—safe and content.”
“I might have been safe,” I said. “But I wasn’t content. I just didn’t realize it.”
“Are you saying you’re really happier like this—as Doc Savage?”
I rolled onto my side and propped myself up on my elbow. Kira turned toward me. I brushed her copper hair back from her beautiful face. “I’m saying I wasn’t happy until you found me, and I’m willing to accept whatever comes with it. I don’t intend to lose you again.”
She put her arm around my shoulders and pulled herself onto me. She kissed me. I kissed her back. I could feel the warmth of her skin, the rhythm of her breathing, the pounding of her heart.
I realized that I had no money. No home. No family. But in that moment I realized that there was only one thing I needed.
That would require a single question from me—and the right answer from Kira.
I hoped the answer would be yes.
CHAPTER 103
IT WAS PROBABLY the world’s shortest engagement. Twelve hours, to be exact. The ceremony itself was simple, but joyous.
I pried a diamond from the hilt of the cutlass and enclosed it in a circle of fishing wire to make a ring. Ayann found a simple white tunic in the hold for Kira’s wedding dress. Hani was our ring bearer, and Halima made a radiant flower girl.
Kira and I stood hand in hand at the prow of the small boat while Dahir blessed our vows in three different languages. It was the first wedding he’d ever performed as a captain, and he wanted to do it right.
His final pronouncement was in perfect English: “You may kiss your bride.”
So I did.
When I pulled away, tears were streaming down Kira’s cheeks. That was new.