“No more dangerous than trying to grab a rope ladder from a WaveRunner. What’s the alternative? Leave the guys on board the pirate ship? No. Not happening. Stay here and wait? Wait to be slaughtered?”
“No. But I could go without?—”
“I said I’m done hiding, Easton, and I mean it.”
“True, same. But I don’t like bringing you on board their ship.”
My fingers ache. I want to snap off. I want to go now. I’m like one of those poor racehorses shaking their heads behind the gates. Holding while they get into their tender makes me want to charge into the water. I glance at Easton. “How can you be so calm?”
“How were you calm when you had the primary who drank all the champagne in the first two nights and then made one of your stews quit? And you had a captain who didn’t back you up. But you stood up to her and got her to be almost a decent humanbeing. You did that by keeping your cool. This is no different than a billionaire diva or a world-class swimming meet.”
“Other than it’s our lives.”
“We risk our lives every day by getting out of bed. But today we risk our lives for our family.”
“You’re amazing,” I say.
“No, you are amazing. I’m just better with you.” He cocks his head to the boat.
The tender’s away. He hands me the binoculars again. I lift the binoculars; the lazy crew member is back on duty. There’s three men in the tender. I’m just hoping they don’t leave anyone there to guard it.
“You pilot the boat,” he says. “I’ll hold the gun.”
“Right.” I can do it. Zane’s been teaching me how to drive our tender. And theirs, from the look of it, is a hell of a lot smaller. I don’t want to hold the gun. Though Calvin’s shown me how to do that in the last few months too.
I glance back at camp. We took Penny out behind the map tree, off to the side, and gave her a dose of her anti-anxiety tablets in a large fish, then tucked her out of the way behind the treehouse. I hate that we had to drug her, but having her bark when we leave isn’t going to help her or us.
The tender bounces onto the shore. They take it way too far. I can only imagine what Charlie would have done last season if one of his guys had driven the tender all the way onto the sand. They jump out, and one of them tosses the rope around the big rock, like he’s been here before. Another one lights a cigarette. The first guy smacks it out of his hand and points to the blind up to camp.
The other one is already on his way. He scans up and down the beach but doesn’t glance as far as us. Instead, he turns to the fish weir. He picks up a fish and tosses it back into the ocean.Then he kicks down three of the posts, the same way Calvin does when we have too large a stockpile of fish.
My heart pounds with each step the guy takes toward the camp. He vanishes behind the blind.
We wait a good ten minutes until we’re sure they’re far enough into the jungle to not hear us on the beach. “Ready?” I whisper.
We’re silently flying down the beach. It’s so different from the run we did on our island festival day. Or the times when we’re goofing around challenging each other.
I jump in and go to the outboard. Zane’s voice echoes in my head. I’m looking for the kill switch lanyard. But of course, there isn’t one.Don’t fall out, then, Haley. I go to turn the fuel valve to the “on” position, but it’s already on, and since they just shut it off, there’s no need to prime it.
Easton tosses the rope in and gives us a good shove. He points the boat in the right direction before rolling into the tender. “Go.” He’s already getting the gun out of the pack.
The gear shift is in neutral, and I start the engine, one hand in place on the motor to steady it. I pull the cord sharply, and the engine sputters and coughs but turns over, roaring to life. A quick switch to the run position and we’re off. I’m sitting as low as I can. No need for my head to be a target.
It’s just another day, and it’s a good one to live. I’m going to get my guys.
A handheld radio in the bottom of the raft squawks.
Easton and I both stare at it. It’s rapid-fire French.
“It’s the ship, I think. They’re asking if the tender is returning. My French isn’t as good as Dante’s,” Easton says. It goes off again. Easton picks it up with one hand, the gun in his other hand. We’re getting closer to the ship, but there’s no one on deck.
“The jungle is thick. I always had problems with my radio too far into town. The away team might not be able to hear it,” I say into the wind.
“Oui,” Easton says into the radio.
Another long string of French comes through, but we’re almost to the aft of their ship where they launched it from.
Easton throws me a look when I don’t pull alongside the rope ladder like we talked about for the WaveRunner. Instead, I take the tender around the back where they launched from. I’m doing my best to not lose my nerve. Doing this is crazy. But also, not doing this will cause them to know it’s not their guys. This way, they’ll be one guy at most. Hopefully the lazy one, who will not have his gun strapped to his chest.
