I’D NEVER felt sunshine on my skin more keenly than I did that day. I vowed I was never going back into that hole. They’d have to kill me first.
Martio held Sun’s upper arm. Sun moved so gracefully the leg irons were more like ugly jewelry than an inconvenience. Edwin had sent Weasel for a pair of wrist shackles, and Sun was now bound by those as well. He still looked so liquid and dangerous that everyone, save Martio, stayed well clear of him.
Every time Martio moved, Sun made minute adjustments to his own stance. He was ready for a fight. I think probably the only thing keeping him from attacking Martio then was the improbability of our survival.
I heard the sailors whispering superstitious oaths as we walked by, protecting themselves from the killer. Nobody paid much mind to me at all. I wasn’t chained, and I felt lucky about that until I thought about it long enough to feel insulted. I quietly told my pride it could be ruffled all it wanted, so long as I was free.
They’d reconsider my harmlessness if I could get my hands on a gun.
The landing party filled two long boats. Edwin, Martio, Sun, me, and two nervous sailors who kept their guns at ready climbed aboard the first boat while Weasel, Vasco, and four others I didn’t know loaded themselves on the second. Butcher watched us leave from the Fury’s deck, and the way the others jumped to his bellowed orders, it appeared he was in command while both captain and first mate were away. I hadn’t forgotten his kindness to us, and watching his tall, dark shadow recede behind us felt like taking ourselves out from under the umbrella of his scant protection.
“Well, then, lead the way.” Edwin set Martio on the rudder and took up a position in the bow with Sun, who called back directions to his former master, his voice empty of emotion. I continually gauged the distance between the boat and the shore and the depth of the water, but a look over my shoulder at the armed men watching us depart from the ship’s deck dashed my hopes. We’d make easy targets swimming.
If we were to escape, it’d have to be under cover of the trees.
“We must walk through the forest,” Sun said as we landed. He jumped lightly to the shore, again unfairly agile despite the heavy chains. Martio plunged over the side and noisily crashed through the water, but Sun waited for him as though escape was the furthest thing from his mind. In a moment, the full complement of both long boats was on the shore.
I felt better. Two against ten were fairer odds than we’d had on the ship.
The six armed sailors watched Sun like lion tamers watch a new acquisition. Weasel and Vasco passed the water jug around before we started our hike. Nobody offered water to either Sun or me.
“Well, then, let us get underway.” Edwin adjusted his belt. “If the slave runs, shoot him.” He nodded, and Martio stepped forward and latched one meaty paw onto Sun’s elbow. “Mr. Swift will accompany me,” he said, and he prodded me with his gun.
Two by two we walked into the shadow of the trees.
I knew the way Sun could move if he wanted to. Martio held tightly to his arm, but Sun ignored the larger man as though he were a fly or a mosquito. He led us along one of the trails the pigs had beaten into the turf. I recognized it. If we took it south by west, we’d get to the watering hole and home.
A sudden longing to see the tree house again overwhelmed me. I hadn’t realized how important it had become, but I suddenly and passionately wished I’d been a boring and honest merchant rather than a smuggler. Timber or cotton no one would have bothered to come looking for, and I’d still be living a happy life as a savage. Were the comforts of civilization no longer of any interest to me? When did that happen? Actually, I did know when—it was after I felt Sun’s touch, and he mine. After I, like so many before me, and would again after me, fell in love.
“Be careful,” Sun called back to us. He’d led us northwest, through the grasping bean trees, and we’d come to the canyon where Ernest had nearly unmanned me. There was no sign of the pigs—perhaps they had learned to fear men and guns during the pirates’ visit. Sun left the path, scrambling up the steep eastern slope that would lead us across the top of the escarpment. Martio had to let go of him to follow.
“After you, Mr. Swift.” Edwin waved his pistol. I scrambled after them, alert for any possibilities of escape, but Edwin kept back far enough it’d be hard to rush him and get the gun. He was, however, still close enough to put a lead ball in my back with reasonable certainty.
Neither Martio nor Sun were waiting for us when we reached the top.
“Martio,” Edwin called out, not taking his eyes from me as we reached the summit.
There was no answer.
“Call him,” Edwin ordered me. He kept his weapon ready. The others slowly joined us on the rise.
I knew who he meant. I called Sun’s name. The forest was silent in the bright sun.
“Louder, please, Mr. Swift.” Edwin’s barrel didn’t waiver.
“Sun!” I yelled. We waited in nervous silence.
“Where are Mendoza and Dupree?” Vasco asked. Long moments passed, but no one else joined us.
“I don’t see them.” Weasel, last man up, peered over the crest. “They were right behind me.”
Others went to the ledge to look, but the missing men failed to appear. The remaining sailors gathered around their captain, each trying to look in every direction at once.
“Sóli.” Vasco’s voice was low, scared.
“There’s no need for alarm.” Edwin’s words were confident and wavered even less than the weapon he kept steadily pointed at me. “Not while we have him.” He glanced at my expression, indicating with his gun that I should walk forward. “Lead on, Mr. Swift.”
I walked forward, deeper into the trees and up the slope of the mountain. I was keenly aware of the gun at my back as I strained my ears for any sounds in the dark forest around us. I had no idea where we were going, but I thought if Sun had hidden anything on the island, it would have been in the caves. He had hidden the bodies there, after all.
We were halfway up the steep slope, struggling through thick undergrowth, when we heard screams.
“What was that?” Vasco spun wildly with his long gun, attempting to point it in every direction at once. He was close to us, as if trying to find safety by being near the most important people.
Weasel burst through a shrub behind us, Edwin only just managed to point Vasco’s gun down before it went off. The shot echoed eerily, and when it faded, I thought I heard an anguished cry in the distance. A bird? A man? My anxiety for Sun doubled, but my anxiety for myself was closer and more immediate. Of the two of us, Sun, at least, could take care of himself.
Weasel panted, his eyes rolling. Bloody speckles decorated his boots. “Something got them. Snatched them from right beside me.” He fell to his knees.
The remaining two men huddled near Edwin with Vasco. The odds were improving. With Martio missing, that left five. Still too many for me by myself, even if I could trust Weasel not to cut me down if I ran. I needed to even the odds.
“There are things on this island worse than the boars,” I improvised.
“What do you mean?” Edwin tightened his grip on my elbow, but I thought I heard a quaver in his voice that hadn’t been there before.
“Sometimes we’ll find a dead boar, partially eaten,” I lied. I’ve always been able to spin a good yarn. Maybe I had learned something useful from my preacher father, after all. “We hear things in the night. It’s not safe to travel without fire.”
My words affected the two nameless sailors, who looked from the forest to each other and their captain in a series of glances that left little to the imagination. They’d desert in a heartbeat, if given the chance. Lying was a sin, but I thought God might forgive me, considering the circumstances.
“I won’t listen to lies.” Edwin pushed me forward. “It’s your friend who has taken these men.” He raised his voice and yelled into the woods. “If one more man is attacked, I will kill Mr. Swift. Do you hear me?”
Nothing but silence answered him.
We were now in such a tight group together, we moved through the underbrush at a snail’s pace, pushing through vegetation by sheer force. Edwin used my body to break the waves, as it were, and I was covered with scratches. Many times I thought of turning on him to struggle for the gun, but Vasco had taken to watching me as though I were his saving grace. My desire to remain alive fought a short war with the satisfaction I would feel punching my old partner, the man who had betrayed me. Survival won.
“How much farther?” Edwin was winded. I wasn’t. I’d scarcely stopped moving from the day I woke in Sun’s cave. As captain, Edwin had no doubt spent his time aboard as I’d found him—at a desk signing papers.
“Not far,” I answered. It was true; we were very near the caves, and we soon broke through the tree line. Everyone looked worse for wear. Sailors are not jungle men. Only high excitement had driven them this far, and they looked relieved to have escaped the darkness of the woods. Their eyes darted back to the trees—forbidding for them, salvation and home for me.
It was now past time for the midday meal, and the heat of the sun beat down on us. The men took quick bites of the food they had brought, looking around nervously as they chewed sea biscuit, cheese, and pig jerk. Weasel dropped some of his in the dirt and kicked it to me, then laughed as I lunged for it. The others chuckled, an edge of hysteria in the sound. However, I took it for what it was—Weasel trying to help me—and I wiped off the dirt and ate it. The cheese was heavy and crumbled, but I tried to eat slowly and enjoy it. The taste was so fine I nearly cried.
After he caught his breath, Edwin was hot to set forth again, and he dragged me to my feet. As we walked, Weasel talked about the last time he’d been in the caves, describing the abattoir in Sun’s oubliette to the sailors. His voice was soft and haunted by the horrors within. By the time his story was done, we were there.
Entering the tunnels was the last thing any of my companions wanted to do. The stench rode the heat of the day, a physical presence at the cave mouth that left me gagging.
“Captain, we saw no crates the other night.” Vasco stood several feet back from the opening, shaking his head and clutching his gun. “There’s nothing in there but death.”
Edwin pulled himself even straighter than before, glaring at Vasco and the two men who cowered behind him. He tightened his grip on me and pulled me close.
“Get in there.”
Vasco shook his head and stepped farther back. Weasel started forward, tentatively climbing onto the ledge before the black opening. He kept low to the ground, squinting inside.
“I don’t see anything, Captain.”
“Prepare torches.” Edwin pushed me up onto the ledge.