Page 153 of The Island
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Heather looked at the radio and waited for Matt’s response. Maybe there was a way out of this without more bloodshed. Without putting the kids’ lives at risk by trying Olivia and Owen’s plan.
Matt was the cleverest and possibly the most reasonable one of the family.
“Matt?” she said into the walkie-talkie. She’d been standing guard with the Lee-Enfield and hadn’t noticed anything wrong. But the silence now was worrying.
What—
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Matt said, not through the walkie-talkie but from somewhere really close by.
Heather shrank behind the tree trunk.
Oh my God. He was here.
“Come out, Heather! I’ve got your little girl. I’ve got a gun pointed at her. Come out!”
How had he found—
“It’s so boring, isn’t it? To count down from three? But that’s what I’m going to do, Heather. Three, two, one…”
Heather stepped out from behind the eucalyptus tree.
“I’m here,” she said.
Matt was holding Olivia by the scruff of her neck with his left hand. He had a rifle in his right hand that he was pointing at her.
“Drop your gun or I blow this one to kingdom come,” Matt said.
“Matt, no! We can make a deal.”
“You Yanks and your bloody deals. Drop it now or she’s dead!”
Heather dropped the Lee-Enfield.
“Very wise,” said Matt. “Now put your hands up high.”
She put them up.
“If you want something done right, you do it yourself,” Matt said with a grin.
“How did you find us?”
“Your dad was in the army and he never taught you about radio silence? Triangulation?”
Her face fell. Triangulation. Yes. “I’ve been trying to remember all the things he said.”
“Oh, mate, you should see your face. You look gutted. Come over here, slowly.”
She walked toward him.
When she was twenty feet away he said, “That’s enough.”
“Here?”
“Hands high in the air, please. I don’t want any last-minute heroics.”
Heather put her hands up.
