The Last Resort

by Susi Holliday

  Amelia looks down at the box. On top, written in beautiful calligraphic script, it says:

  To My Friend, Anne. Always.

  The small plane feels strange without the other seats occupied. She thinks back to what happened less than twenty-four hours before, seeing those people for the first time. Beautiful, fragile Tiggy and her pretty-boy boyfriend, Giles – the games designer, the one who could have helped them the most; he’d have been able to work it all out, Amelia is sure of it. Merryn probably knew that too, which is why he’d been removed from the action as early as possible. Brenda, with her powerful life lived at the expense of all others. Lucy, with her broken heart turned to stone. And Scott, desperately seeking a cure for his own loneliness. And then there was James . . . or Jago, as he once was. Broken by his childhood, then destroyed by his half-sister . . .

  She’d had an intense day with these people, making and breaking bonds, every one of them having their lives laid bare. Now all of them are gone.

  All because of that day, that summer, when she’d met George . . . Merryn. Damaged, abused and desperate for a friend. Amelia had shown her kindness, and Amelia had become the object of her misguided, desperate affections.

  She opens the box.

  Inside, there are a series of compartments containing small black cuboids, each with a name engraved on the top in white. She lifts out the first one, marked with her name – her real name, this time. It’s a memory stick. Of course it is. She runs a finger across all the others. Everyone from the plane, all the friends she made and lost today. Then there’s Harvey, and another five sticks with names she doesn’t recognise – clearly they are the staff, who’ve been trapped there on the island, hiding from whatever they’d done that was so bad they felt they had no choice.

  In the middle of the box, in a separate compartment, is a small mobile phone. She lifts it out, and underneath finds a folded piece of paper. She unfolds it and starts to read.

  My Dearest Anne,

  I shall always call you this, as this is how I know you – in my heart. If you are reading this, then I’m deeply saddened to say that you’ve chosen Plan B. I’d so hoped you would choose me – Plan A. Plan ‘Anne’. But I suppose I can’t control your decisions. Not yet. Not ever, now – unless you allow the staff to continue with the programme.

  I’m sure you’ve worked out what they are all doing there. If you care to know more about their memories, you can slot the sticks into the phone and it will project them for you. I warn you now, some of those memories are not pretty.

  However, deep sins lead to deep loyalty – and in return for keeping them alive and out of prison, my staff were trained well and live in luxury – albeit on a small, isolated island. If you want to talk more, please call Harvey, and he will tell you everything that I can’t capture in this one short letter. There is one contact programmed into the phone. Call it and he will answer, whenever you are ready. Right now, he is soothing the staff, helping them through the shock. They are good people, despite their sins and flaws.

  You can keep them. They will be loyal to you, as they have been to me. You can continue the research, and you can have everything you ever imagined, and more. But as you know, the only way for it to continue is secretly, as it is now.

  Just as Father and the Fathers before him kept their own family to themselves, this is what you must do now.

  But . . .

  You probably didn’t expect a ‘but’, did you, my dear Anne?

  There is another option.

  Right now, the staff are busy dealing with what has happened today. They have their own instructions for this, and in time you will find out what these instructions are, and what the world will get to know about the tragedy of the ‘Lost Six’ and the host of the luxury party. Your name will never be mentioned. You are free to make your choice.

  Your choice is simple. Take my place. Take my island. Continue my work.

  Or . . . walk away. If you choose to walk away, you must do one last thing – for me, Anne. For my memory. Turn over the phone and press the red button on the back. As you guessed while on your way to the house, the caves lead to a network of tunnels. These were deliberately inaccessible to you and your group, due to the danger – but I wanted to show you just that one room. With a programme so secretive, it’s always nice to be able to show off just a little of what I can do. The trackers, the projections, the asking for what you want and getting it – I wanted you to feel like there was something worth knowing about, just out of reach.

  If you press the red button, fifty tonnes of dynamite will blow the island sky high. It will cause a tsunami that will hit the other island – the one where we met, all those years ago. An unfortunate side effect, I’ll admit. I’d never want to cause such a tragedy. But once the water retreats, that island will be fine. Eventually. But Nirrik will be gone, and all of its secrets with it. Of course, it will still be up to you to destroy the memory sticks and the phone, but rest assured that once the hub is gone, the technology will no longer be accessible. I trust you to dispose of the contents of this box wisely.

  So, my dear Anne – the choice is yours, and yours alone.

  Choose well.

  Your Loving Friend, your sister by blood, George.

  Amelia closes the box and her eyes. She sits quietly, barely noticing the whine of the plane’s engine. She thinks back to the morning, when the pressure dropped and that lurch of turbulence had thrown everyone into a panic – and that turned out to be the least of their worries. But what’s done is done.

  And she knows how to fix it.

  The plane lands smoothly and the engine is turned off. Harvey comes through into the cabin and unlatches the door. He folds the steps out and slides them from the plane. Then he turns to Amelia, offers a hand to help her out of her seat.

  She smiles. ‘I read the letter. I don’t think I was meant to read it on the plane. You’re meant to be back with the rest of the staff, helping them through this.’

  ‘I’ll be back there soon enough,’ he says. ‘Ready to go home?’

  Amelia takes his hand. She leaves the box on the seat.

  ‘Wait,’ he says. ‘You need to take it . . . she left you instructions.’

  Amelia shakes her head. ‘I’m in charge now. I’ll decide what happens next.’

  He looks her in the eyes, and she sees his face flash with fear. ‘I understand. You don’t owe us anything. Not after what we’ve all put you—’

  ‘No.’ She cuts him off. Gives him a careful smile. ‘Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to fly the plane back. Then you’re going to get rid of the bodies. Take them out to sea. Dump them. Then sink the boat.’

  He nods. ‘But—’

  She raises a hand, then points at the box. ‘Take out the contents of the box. Smash all those memory sticks. Crush the phone. Rip the letter into a thousand pieces. Get everyone out of the big house. Then take all the candles from the centrepieces and move them as close as you can to the curtains. Let the place burn to the ground. Don’t fly back here. Go further – anywhere you can land safely – and tell everyone to disperse. You’ll need to sort out new lives for yourselves, but I’m sure you’re all resourceful enough for that.’

  He stands staring at her, open-mouthed.

  ‘I’m setting you free, Harvey . . . and getting rid of that place the best way we can. I don’t want to risk an explosion. I couldn’t bear it if destroying that island led to any more deaths.’

  ‘We’ll need a cover story . . .’

  ‘I’ll deal with that.’ She walks past him and out of the plane, down the steps.

  The airfield is in darkness, apart from the runway lights, sparkling like diamonds in the inky night. She doesn’t turn back. And after a moment, she hears the sound of the steps being retracted, the door closing.

  She’s not sure how she’s going to get home from here. Her plan is to get to the main road and start walking. And whatever happens after that, she knows she’ll be able to ha
ndle it. Tomorrow, wherever she ends up, she’s going to call her parents – she needs to stay with them for a while. Get her head together and decide what to do next.

  She’s been gone for too long.

  Epilogue

  SIX DEAD IN BOAT PARTY TRAGEDY OFF CONDEMNED ISLAND

  The Cornwall Coastguard has reported six dead after a party boat sunk off the island of Nirrik, on the Cornish coast.

  Nirrik has been uninhabited and certified condemned since 1895, when the last settlers were evacuated. The island was removed from council jurisdiction and purchased by the Timeo Corporation, a technology company headquartered in St Helier, Jersey. No information about the CEO of Timeo or their links to the tragedy has been uncovered at this time.

  The dead have been identified as Theresa ‘Tiggy’ Ramona (25), an Instagram influencer from Chelsea; her partner, Giles Horner (28), a games designer from Essex; celebrity gossip columnist Lucy De Marco (38); James Devlin (31), a photographer; Brenda Carter (62), a venture capitalist; and Scott Williams (35), a nutraceuticals executive from Los Angeles. While it is not yet known why they were gathered on the island, an anonymous source, who alerted the coastguard, has suggested that a private party was underway.

  The island’s only building, a large, stone dwelling, has been burnt down, but it is not yet clear if the events are connected. Investigators have yet to access the island, as it is not known what type of contamination led to the island being abandoned many years ago.

  Timeo has owned the island since 2010, according to the registrar general’s office and the land registry, but it is still classified as uninhabitable amid concerns of a leaked biological agent.

  The island was previously recorded under the name Father’s Island, and local sources report stories of shipwrecks, drownings, extremist religious practices, child abuse, incest and more – although this is anecdotal and not officially recorded in either the parish notes or the council archives.

  The families of the deceased have been informed.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  A few years ago, in an in-flight magazine, I read about the Swedish company Biohax International. Set up by a former body piercer, the company makes microchips that are inserted into the user’s hand, just above their thumb. These chips are just like the ones used in any contactless technology – and they can be used for all the same purposes, such as paying for things, information transfer and replacing keys. I was fascinated by this, and the fact that the users are more than happy to be almost ‘experimented’ on, with an actual device under their skin. Being a crime writer, I immediately thought about how this could be exploited for nefarious means – hence the tracking device I invented for this book.

  Next, I decided that I wanted to write something set on an uninhabited island. I was inspired by some of the tiny islands along the East Lothian coastline (where I grew up) and also by the Scilly Isles off the Cornish coast, which I visited to do research. It almost became a very different kind of book, when the Scillonian ferry broke down, leaving us stranded there for a few days longer than planned! Anyway, when I pitched this idea to Jack Butler at Thomas & Mercer, he was immediately intrigued and instantly came up with ‘The Digital Age meets the Golden Age’ – which sums the book up perfectly!

  So the first thank you goes to my editor, Jack. Thank you for believing in me and my ideas, and for helping me shape the plot in its early stages into something that ended up being very fun to write. Thank you to my developmental editor, David, for making me pull it apart and dig deep into the darkest corners of my mind to make the book even better. And thank you to the copyediting, proofreading and production teams for whipping it into shape and polishing every last detail.

  Huge thanks, as always, to my agent Phil Patterson, and all at Marjacq, for making this happen.

  Thank you to my ever-present encouragement crew: Steph, Ed, Vicki, Lisa, Kat, Jenny and Amanda; and to my very good friend Colin Scott – who knows more than anyone else, about most things.

  Big thanks, as always, to you – and if this is the first book of mine you’ve read, then I hope you’ll read more! And to my faithful fans, who’ve been with me right from the start – thank you!

  Without readers (and listeners!), bloggers and booksellers, there would be very little for me to do, except write for myself – so thank you all from the bottom of my heart, for letting me tell my stories to as many people as I can.

  To my family and friends – thank you for always supporting me, for buying all my books, coming to my launches and being so proud of me, even when I struggle to make enough time to see you.

  And finally, to JLOH, my travel companion, tea and toast maker, and the one who has to deal with me when writer’s block turns me into a demon . . . you are the very best.

  If you want to find out more about me, you can go to my website: www.susiholliday.com, or have a look here: linktr.ee/susiholliday for my social media links. I’d love to hear from you!

  And of course, if you enjoyed my book, I would really appreciate it if you could leave a review . . .

  Love, Susi

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Susi Holliday grew up in East Lothian, Scotland. A life-long fan of crime and horror, her short stories have been published in various places, and she was shortlisted for the inaugural CWA Margery Allingham Prize. She is the author of seven novels, five of them written as SJI Holliday. You can find out more at her website, www.sjiholliday.com, on Facebook at www.facebook.com/SJIHolliday/ and on Twitter @SJIHolliday. She also provides coaching for new crime writers via www.crimefictioncoach.com.