by Wesley Stein
If Juliet had wanted Mills dead, she would have already dropped him into the cistern. What she wished for him was a long life of peace and happiness, alone on this hillside.
“You were exiled for your own good,” Juliet said. “Our society needs a deity, someone to be a symbol for the rule of law. Martyrdom is the only way to make a deity.”
“Three shores,” Shakespeare said. “Triad. Romeo.”
“Do not speak his name!” Juliet shouted. “Romeo made his choice. He didn’t want the life we have here.”
He didn’t want to rule an army of slaves, Shakespeare thought. And I don’t either.
Juliet took a deep breath. She reminded herself that Thomas Mills had been on this island for hundreds of years. He was the one man on the island she’d never cave-in.
“I may have finally found a way to get the water across the ravine,” she told him. “Eat.”
She put a small piece of the loaf in his hand and waited. Slowly, Mills lifted it to his mouth. But he didn’t bite into the bread, only put it to his lips mindlessly.
Juliet leaned forward and grabbed the bread from him.
“For heaven’s sake,” she exclaimed. “Say ahh.”
“Ahh,” Shakespeare moaned as he opened his mouth. Juliet stuffed the bread in.
“Chew it, Shakes.”
Even as he chewed, a twinkle appeared in his eye and Juliet knew her experiment worked. She smiled.
“Keep chewing,” she said. “Do you want more?”
Shakes nodded and Juliet tore off another piece from the loaf, bigger this time. Mills grabbed it from her and tossed it into his mouth.
“Mmm,” he sighed as he chewed. His eyes closed in pleasure.
“How does that feel?” Juliet asked. “How do you feel, darling Shakespeare?”
The man grabbed the last of the bread and tore into it. He quickly ate it all and his mouth watered for more. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. It was as if a fever had broken. He blinked his eyes and smiled.
“How did,” he began to ask but paused. He was surprised by his mind’s sudden sharpness. And he could speak like himself again. “How did you do it?”
“The bread will serve as your fountain,” Juliet told him, ignoring his question. I’ll make sure to bring you a loaf every month or two.”
“Thank you,” Shakes said. He was thankful to be safe from withering but also thankful to have hope for others. If the bread could save him, it might save the condemned.
Juliet had never gone too long without a drink from the fountain, so even during her tests of the bread she couldn’t detect what Shakespeare knew: she was giving him way too much.
Just a small bite from the loaf every few months was enough to stem the withdrawals from the fountain.
He’d saved many loaves over the years, hoping to help victims of Juliet’s wrath. But he’d never imagined that one day he’d be able to use his stash on his old friend, Romeo.
He had watched the boat arrive and had met the island assaulters who had sailed it, but he could never have dreamed that Andy Stahl would be among them.
“Eat this,” he told him in the cabin of Robbins’ yacht. “Please my friend.”
Shakespeare put a piece in the man’s mouth but Romeo would not chew. But after a minute, his saliva began to break down the crust enough for him to detect the faintest hint of the fountain’s water. His jaw clamped and went sideways. He swallowed.
His eyes widened first. Thomas tore off another piece of bread and added it to his friend’s open mouth. Romeo chewed on his own this time, and quickly swallowed. Shakespeare repeated his feeding routine until half the loaf was gone.
It had been forty-eight years since they had last seen each other. Shakespeare was getting nervous and excited. Andy was beginning to stir.
His eyes were narrowing in focus and his legs, once limp and shrinking, were suddenly swelling with muscle and blood. He blinked and tried to bring his eyes to focus on Shakespeare.
“Andy Stahl,” Thomas said. “Say something to me.”
Romeo blinked again and his once drooping mouth now bent upward to a slight smile.
“Shakes,” he whispered. “Shakes?”
“I’m here,” Shakespeare said as he grabbed his friend’s hand.
“Is that you?”
Shakespeare nodded and his eyes welled with tears. He hugged his old friend and kissed his head.
“Welcome back.”

When my head broke the surface of the water, I opened my eyes to accept the worst. But the rain of bullets had stopped. In front of me, Claudius’s body floated near the base of the cliff. Tua was nearby, gasping for air. Robbins and Tuahine were there too, all of us were confused but accounted for. Then I heard another gun blast and looked up.
Juliet was struck and fell, slowly tumbling off of the spillway and crashing to the ocean in front of us.
I turned my head out to sea and saw a large white boat, a yacht, heading toward us. The ship’s horn blew and I saw a man waving from the bridge while holding a high-powered rifle.
Tua laughed beside me and let out a shout.
“Whoo-hoo!”
Another man appeared on the deck of the coming boat, also holding a rifle. He aimed it toward the spout above us and fired at Tybalt while his friend idled the boat over to us. The four of us frantically climbed aboard under their cover fire.
I got to the deck and looked up to see Juliet recovering. She turned onto her back and coughed water. Above, my sisters stood at the edge of the hole in the side of the mountain. Tybalt was with them.
Once our boat started moving away, he wasted no time jumping into the water. With his help, Juliet was swimming toward the shore as we motored away. Claudius was recovering too.
My sisters stood at the edge of the spout, watching us. When they saw Juliet make the shore, they turned and calmly retreated to the catacombs.
The sky began to brighten as we drove away from the gap in the twin peninsulas. Robbins ramped up the engines and as we sped away I couldn’t help but weep.
Tuahine came to me and we embraced for a long while. Tua joined us and we cried for the loss of my sisters, the loss of my parents. We cried for Agent Free and the life he gave so that we could make it out safely.
But then my sorrow turned to anger. Why did we have to lose them? Why did she get to win? How could I let Juliet get away with stealing my family from me?
As we distanced ourselves from Three-Hook Island, a sense of resolve came over me. We needed to go back. We needed to get a plan, get some firepower, then come get even.
Tuahine was looking over my shoulder, watching the island shrink in the distance. I could see she was already thinking something similar.
“We’ll come back,” Tuahine said. Tua nodded at me and smiled.
“Soon,” he assured me.
Robbins was on the bridge with the two men who’d saved us. They looked similar, both about the same age and each sporting a beard. Robbins saw me looking up and smiled.
“Allow me to introduce you,” he called down. “This is Thomas Mills.” The stranger stepped forward and ducked his head.
“Shakes,” he said. “You can just call me Shakes.”
“And this,” Robbins said with a proud smile, “is my old friend, Romeo.”
“I think I’ll go by Andy from now on,” Romeo said. “You can just call me Andy.”
Tuahine saw Andy speak and she was moved to tears. Since she had known Robbins’ friend, he’d been mute. Not only was he talking now, but he seemed fully released from whatever illness had gripped him before.
She smiled and hugged his neck. Then she took a long look at him and me and the others. She surveyed the ocean a moment then turned back.
“We’re going to be okay,” she said. “Look at us.”
I spun and observed the crew on the boat’s deck. There were the two new guys, Shakes and Andy. They seemed old, mysterious, and tough. Then there was Robbins, a middle-aged
white guy who was more than what he appeared to be. Robbins might have worked a cushy job in the South Pacific, but he’d served his country in Iraq during his youth. Tuahine was the emotional leader. She was the strongest person I’d ever known. She helped me stay positive. And finally, there was our leader. Tua.
I liked Tua. I always had.
We’d been close as kids. We were about the same age. But I hadn’t seen him in a long time, over a decade. He’d changed so much, become a man.
When we finally made it to Robbins’ marina, he idled the boat into its slip and we stepped onto the dock.
His house was not large or luxurious, but Robbins had a nice spot on the water. We cleaned up, showered, ate, attended to small wounds we’d sustained. By the end of the day, we were gathered over food, discussing our strategy for rescuing Joanna and Jacey.
“I want Shakes and Romeo to talk,” Tua said. “You two know more about the island than anyone. You helped build it. What do we need to know?”
Romeo leaned against a doorway and crossed his arms.
“Ask Shakes,” he said. “The last time I was on the island the year was 1972.”
Andy looked to Shakespeare with pleading eyes.
“What happened to Juliet? What did she do?”
Shakespeare shook his head.
“I’m sorry friend,” he said. “She’s far-gone. The Juliet you knew is no longer alive. The woman who rules the northern shore is a tyrant, a dictator who would build a society on the backs of slaves.”
“What happened?”
“After you left,” Shakespeare began, “Juliet went to work. Using the water as currency, she recruited dozens to help build her village. Those who got greedy or tried to betray her were thrown into the cistern and left to rot.”
“Tell us about the island,” Tuahine said. “We need to know everything.”
Shakespeare and Andy exchanged looks. Andy pointed to Shakes, who agreed to start.
“When I found the island I was a sailor, a captain actually, with a commission from Mercury & Company. We shipped sugar all over the southern sea. We spotted the island and I rowed ashore with two men. We walked the island for a day, gathering food to restore the ship's pantry. But then we found the cave and the fountain.”
“Wow,” I said.
“I thought the two natives who lived there were being greedy,” Shakes continued. “I thought they killed my men because we were stealing their water. But they were being merciful. I drank first but my men had not yet. For them, death was a gift. But I could not die, so I was left alone.
Misunderstanding their intentions, I sought revenge on the natives. The other men back on the ship abandoned me, thinking I’d gone mad and I was marooned.”
“That’s terrible,” Tuahine said.
“I was terrible. I tried to kill the two people who’d been on the island first,” Shakes went on. “But they wouldn’t die. That’s when I realized the fountain was special. I had read about it. I knew the legend, but it was only then that I believed.”
“Tell them,” Andy said. “Tell them what you did.”
“I trapped those two natives in a cave,” Thomas admitted with shame. “It was the only way to be rid of them and have peace.
“That’s unbelievable,” Tua said.
“Years later, a man arrived and we shared the island in harmony,” Shakes continued. “But decades after that, a woman appeared and earned both our affections. We fought over her and ended up doing the same thing to him that I did to the islanders. I’m not proud of it. I spent the next hundred-and-fifty years alone with my shame. Then this guy showed up.” He pointed a thumb at Andy.
Andy nodded and took a breath, then took over the story. Tuahine, Tua, and Robbins were just as enthralled in the tale as I was. We each leaned forward as Andy began.
“I hired Juliet as a guide and translator,” he said. “I was a treasure-hunter at the time. My financiers had set up the trip for me because we thought the island’s treasure was gold, not water. Juliet was commissioned to help me with logistics. We ended up sort-of falling in love.
Then we found Thomas on the island and he told us about the fountain, the water, the legend of everlasting life. It’s the fountain of youth.
Once we drank, we knew we couldn’t leave. We decided, since we couldn’t run, we’d build.
“The three of us formed an agreement, the Triad. We would each rule a portion of the island and grow it into a thriving, self-sustaining community. We tried to create a utopia. And you know how that usually works out.”
We asked questions as they continued. We paused for breaks. We moved the conversation outside, where we sat on Robbin’s sundeck and watched the waves unroll like a scroll. Shakespeare continued.
“Andy left when he found out what I had done to those people in the cave.”
“And now Juliet is doing the same thing.”
Shakespeare nodded.
“Not long ago, she declared the practice a legal form of execution for the condemned. Those who broke the law were tossed into the onion-bulb cistern, flooded with the island’s water supply.”
“I don’t understand,” Tuahine said. “Why would she poison her water with decaying flesh?”
“Because she controls the fountain,” Shakes answered. “If the fountain is the only water for you to drink, then she controls you too.”
“The water supply is for flushing toilets and irrigating crops,” Andy added. Everyone goes to the fountain room to drink. Everyone would have a scheduled time, right?”
“Everyone serves Juliet or they don’t get their share,” Shakes confirmed. “Everything on that northern shore was built in this way, slave labor.”
“How do we beat her?” I asked. “How do I get my sisters back?”
Shakes and Andy looked concerned. They crossed looks then looked at me.
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” Shakes offered. “But there may be a way. Look at Andy here. He hasn’t drunk from the fountain in almost fifty years and he’s doing pretty well. If we can steal your sisters away from Three-Hook. We can wean them from the water using the bread. Juliet figured out how to use yeast to move the water’s power beyond the boundary of the fountain room.”
“We can eventually refine the practice,” Andy said hopefully. His eyes were beginning to glow with ideas. “We’ll perfect it, make it a precision dose.”
“What about Juliet?” Tuahine asked. “How will we beat her if she can’t be killed?”
“I have an idea for that,” Shakespeare said. “But we’ll need explosives.”
“We’re going to need more guns too,” Tua said.
“And I’d like to rig the boat with some firepower,” Robbins added. “A fifty-caliber would be a dream come true.”
“Do it,” I said. “Get whatever you need. I’ll pay for everything. But we need to get back to that island as soon as we can.”
“She’s right,” Tua said. “The longer we’re gone the more time they have to prepare their defenses.”
“This is going to be a war,” Tuahine added. “We need to be ready too. Best not to rush in.”
“Agreed,” Tua said.
We spent the next few days preparing for our second assault on Three-Hook Island. The guns would take too long to arrive if we ordered them, so we had to search the islands for firepower.
Tua called up friends and Tuahine called in favors. I wired a hundred thousand dollars to Tuahine’s account on the island so we would have cash. It felt like we bought every gun in the South Pacific. We spoke to the right people. By the end of the week, Robbins had his fifty-caliber, albeit an ancient one.
Robbins also had his white boat painted black and he rewired the running lights to a switch, effectively creating a stealth mode toggle. The Browning M2 was mounted at the center of the bridge. We spent days preparing the boat.
We’d purchased explosives, detonators, bullets, guns, gasoline, and every type of tactical gear we could get our hands on.
It
was a five-hour boat ride to Three-Hook Island. We planned to shove off at 10 PM and arrive quietly on the banks of the island at three in the morning.
We rested. Then we went over the plan one last time. Everyone knew their role. Everyone had a job to do. Mine was simple: find my sisters and no matter what it takes, get them to the boat.
CHAPTER 10
SECOND ASSAULT
Four Days Earlier
The three sisters collected their bags and headed for the airport’s exit. They didn’t chat or laugh as they walked. They were nervous, anxious, ready to see their old friend.
They had been in touch with Tuahine since deciding to come on the trip. It had been fifteen years since their parents disappeared and the trauma was only just now fading. They were ready to face reality, whatever that might mean.
Tuahine had told them the news over the phone. She now knew what had happened to their parents. The mystery was solved.
“They went to live on an island,” Tuahine had said through the speakerphone. “It’s a place for the ultra-rich to retire. Your father found a way to get an invite.”
“The magic island,” She’d said. “Where only those who do very good things are allowed. How’d his sorry ass get invited?”
“He had a client years ago,” Tuahine explained, “back when he first started his practice, who was writing a will. The man’s name was Alex Pace, a famous art collector. He possessed a trio of gold medallions that belonged to a man in France.
Pace was dying and wanted to be sure the medallions made it back to their rightful owner. Mark wrote the will and after Pace died, he went to the Alps to inform the stranger of his inheritance.
But the man gave Mark the medallions, signed them over to him. With the medallions, Mark was able to find the island. He had planned to take all five of you, but in the end, your mother wanted you to stay behind.”
The three sisters stepped out the doors of the airport and were taken aback by the warm and humid air. They all could remember that air, the salty wetness of it. And the coconut smells of sunscreen on passing tourists were familiar too. But none of it was pleasant. It was triggering. They kept an eye on one another while they scanned the line of cars for Tuahine.
