“What is that?” he asked.
Rhett glanced back over his shoulder.
Then both of them were running headlong toward the beach, the conflict between them forgotten. The thing they’d seen was a boat.
A boat!
What did that mean? Could someone else be here on the island? And what about the boat itself? Would they be able to put it to use?
Adam pelted across the hot sand, feeling it kick up in his wake, toward the damaged craft. Rhett ran alongside him, his feet pounding in the sand.
Adam couldn’t help wondering what the younger man was thinking. What would Rhett’s hopes for this boat be? The Birkins had arrived here on a boat, and that boat had since been lost, according to Ella. Would Rhett want to claim this one on behalf of his family to replace the one they’d lost? If so, there was likely to be a fight. As soon as the McTerrells found out there was a new resource the Birkins wanted, they would try to lay claim to it, too.
On the other hand, maybe Rhett would want the McTerrells to take the new boat. Maybe he would consider this a perfect opportunity to get them off the island. Since he felt so strongly that he and his family had the better claim to the Santa Joaquina, maybe he would tell the McTerrells they had to go.
Adam didn’t think they’d go without a fight. But if one of the families did leave, what would he do? Which family would he stick with?
Rhett was right, he thought uncomfortably. I would have to pick a side if that happened.
Ultimately, he knew, he would probably just go wherever Ella went. She was the only one he truly trusted, the only one he felt he could count on in a crisis. The idea of separating from her, of going with one family while she went with the other, just didn’t make sense.
As soon as they reached the boat, though, it became clear that it wasn’t seaworthy. The sails were torn, and a sizable hole had been punched in its side. It was a small miracle that this boat had made it to shore at all.
Rhett hung back as Adam moved forward to investigate. “Come on,” Adam said. “We should see what’s aboard.”
Rhett followed, but hesitantly.
Adam climbed carefully aboard the wrecked craft, moving slowly so as not to dislodge anything, and looked around. The deck was almost completely empty, which he supposed wasn’t a surprise. If there had been anything on this boat, it would likely have been washed away when the wreck took place.
Then he did a double take.
There was a man curled up in the stern of the boat. And he was shaking like a leaf.
He was alive. Somehow, he’d survived whatever had happened to his boat.
“Rhett!” Adam called. “Rhett, I need you!”
He hurried to the man’s side and rolled him over. His skin was burning with fever—he was clearly unwell. His face was pale and his eyes were closed. He was panting for breath and his pulse was weak.
“He’s dehydrated,” Adam said to himself. “Mister? Can you hear me? We’ve got water. We can help you, okay? Can you open your eyes?”
The man opened one eye just a little bit. It was bloodshot.
“Okay,” Adam said, relieved. That meant the man could hear him, at least. “You’re going to be fine. We’ve got a big house with plenty of food and water to share, and we’ve got a doctor up there, too. We’re going to help you.”
“Thank you,” the man rasped, his voice painfully hoarse.
Still, talking was talking, and that was another encouraging sign.
Adam squeezed the man’s shoulder. “Let me just get my—my friend, and we’ll get you out of here and up to the house. Just hang tight for a second.” He turned, intending to go in pursuit of Rhett.
But Rhett was already there. He’d climbed up onto the deck and now stood hanging onto the mast for support.
“Oh good, you’re here,” Adam said. “Can you help me with him? I don’t think he can move on his own, he’s really sick.”
Rhett stood and regarded the two of them without moving for a long moment.
Then he reached into the waistband of his jeans and pulled out a pistol. He took aim, and shot the man in the head.
Chapter 14
Adam reeled as the man in front of him fell dead at his feet.
“What—” he gasped, and found he couldn’t form the sentence he was grasping for. He couldn’t even catch his breath. “Why did—”
“Back away from him,” Rhett said sharply. His expression was shrewd but cool, as if he wasn’t even shaken by the act he’d just committed.
“You shot him!”
“I said, back away,” Rhett barked.
Adam backed away. Whatever else was going on here, he knew who held the gun.
Rhett looked around nervously. “We need to get off this boat,” he said. “We need to get out of here.”
“You killed him,” Adam said dumbly, staring, still unable to believe what had just happened.
“Pull it together, Adam,” Rhett said.
“Why did you do that?”
“Look at him,” Rhett said. He had Adam by the arm now and was pulling him none too gently off the boat, so looking at the dead man was a difficult prospect. “He’s sick. You said it yourself. He’s probably infected with the nanovirus. And he’s bleeding now, so we need to get out of here before we’re contaminated, too.”
“The nanovirus?” Adam shook his head. He felt hung over. “That’s why you killed him?”
“We can’t take chances.”
“But he doesn’t have the nanovirus. Nobody has it. The EMP neutralized it!”
“You don’t know that,” Rhett said, still dragging Adam away from the boat even though they’d reached the sand now. “That was just a theory. You can’t risk all of our lives based on a theory.”
“You killed him without knowing for sure.”
“He’s not one of us.”
“And that’s not even what the virus looked like! You said you’d seen it!” Adam pulled his arm out of Rhett’s grasp. “People with the nanovirus coughed up blood and died quickly. He wasn’t like that. He’d just been out in the sun too long with no water. We could have helped him!”
Rhett turned and leveled the gun directly at Adam.
Adam froze.
“He was an unknown, and that made him a risk,” Rhett said quietly. “I can’t have that. I did what needed to be done. We were threatened, and now we’re not. That’s all there is to it.”
Adam felt nauseated. He could still hear the shipwrecked man thanking him for his help. He could still feel the man’s fevered skin under his hand. How could Rhett have made such a drastic decision—a murderous decision—and acted on it so unfeelingly?
And now, just as on the day Adam had first arrived on the island, Rhett held a gun on him.
“Why do you even have a pistol?” Adam asked quietly. “We don’t use those for hunting.”
“Self-defense.” Rhett cocked it. Adam felt as if his muscles were turning to water. He had to lock his knees to remain standing upright.
“Are you going to shoot me?” he asked quietly. He was amazed at how steady his voice was. The storm of emotions inside him made him feel as if he were a ship out at sea, near to capsizing. He was staring down a pistol, and that was terrifying. But he was also furious. He had never trusted Rhett, had never really liked Rhett, but to realize that one of the people he’d been living with all this time was capable of this kind of violence was appalling.
Ella had been right. He had had no idea how bad it could get.
“Are you going to make me shoot you?” Rhett asked.
“That guy on the boat didn’t make you shoot him.”
“He was a threat to me. Are you threatening me?”
“I’m just standing here, Rhett.”
Rhett watched him suspiciously for a few moments, then slowly lowered the gun.
Adam strode past him and back up toward the clubhouse, heart racing, blood boiling.
This was just like the day he’d arrived, he thought. A strange bo
at had washed up on the beach bearing a strange man to the island. Then, as today, Rhett had been first on the scene. Rhett, with a gun in his hand.
Had Adam ever truly believed Rhett would shoot him? He couldn’t say. He had been afraid of the hostile young man and the weapon he’d held, to be sure. But Rhett and Langley had spoken to him. They had asked him questions. Even in those first few frightening minutes, it had seemed as if they might be looking for a reason to let him live.
But what if Langley hadn’t been there?
What if there had been no witnesses?
What if Rhett had come upon Adam by himself? Would he have killed him without ever saying a word?
Adam thought the answer to that just might be yes. After all, Rhett considered a sick man—a man who couldn’t fight, couldn’t steal, and couldn’t do a thing to harm any of them—to be a threat to him. Adam didn’t believe Rhett really thought the man on the boat had been infected with the nanovirus. Any idiot could have seen that he wasn’t. He had none of the symptoms. Rhett might have been deluding himself, Adam thought, giving himself the excuse he was looking for to fire his weapon. But if he was honest with himself, he must know that they’d been in no danger.
Why on earth had he done it?
Was he just that far out of his mind?
Why are any of them doing anything? he wondered. Why is Kathryn checking all her electronics when we know the power’s still out? Why is Langley treating Ella like she’s some kind of vermin? It’s Cody all over again. They’re coming unglued.
But this time was even worse. This time they had guns. This time they were people who had never been his friends, people with whom he had no foundation of trust to draw on.
Suddenly, desperately, he wanted to get off this island. But of course, there was no way to leave and nowhere to go.
I’ll tell someone, he thought. I’ll talk to someone about what Rhett did. Surely the others will be able to see how he’s gone too far. Someone will know what to do.
But who could he tell?
His first thought was Ella, but that would be no help. Because he knew exactly what her advice would be: do nothing. Stay out of it. Don’t get involved.
He had to get involved, though. This went beyond bullying the housekeeper. This was murder.
Adam couldn’t let murder slide. He couldn’t let it become something without consequences, something he felt comfortable with. He would be paying a price in guilt for Cody’s death for the rest of his life, and he welcomed that. It was no more than he deserved. He couldn’t watch as another death weighed lightly on the killer’s soul.
Should he tell the McTerrells?
He felt sure that Charles and Marsden would agree with him that Rhett had crossed a line. But telling them felt too partisan. It would feel like taking a stand against the Birkins. Like choosing a side.
He was determined not to choose a side.
He found Richard Birkin in the clubhouse library, sitting in an easy chair and paging through one of the Santa Joaquina history books. “Richard? May I speak to you for a moment?”
“Of course.” Richard set the book down and gestured to the seat beside him. “What’s on your mind, son?”
Adam closed the door behind him so as not to be interrupted before taking a seat.
“I was just out hunting with Rhett,” he said, “and we found a shipwrecked boat on the beach.”
“Did you now?” Richard’s voice was slow and methodical. He sounded as if he was choosing every word with infinite care.
Was it possible he anticipated what his son had done? Richard must know Rhett better than almost anybody.
Adam told the story, careful to leave nothing out. Richard listened quietly and did not interrupt. When Adam had finished, relating how Rhett had pulled him off the boat and then turned the pistol on him, Richard finally spoke. “Are the others aware of this?” he asked quietly.
“No,” Adam said. “I thought it would be best to speak to you first. I didn’t want to make trouble.”
Richard nodded slowly. “I appreciate that, son,” he said. “And I thank you for talking to me.”
“But I do think the McTerrells ought to know what happened,” Adam said quickly. “It’s only right. This is their home, too.”
He watched Richard carefully, assessing his response. Would Richard claim that the Santa Joaquina belonged more to the Birkins than to the McTerrells? Would he share Rhett’s opinion that the McTerrells should be grateful they’d been allowed to stay at all?
Richard nodded again. “You’re right,” he said. “Will you let me handle it?”
Adam sighed with relief. “Of course,” he said. “I’m so glad you agree.”
“I absolutely agree,” Richard said. “I’ll speak to Charles. And I’ll speak to my son as well.” He got to his feet, and Adam recognized his gentle dismissal. “Thank you again for coming to me first,” he said. “That was a very considerate thing to do.”
Adam nodded. “I was glad to do it.”
He left the library, still feeling jittery and uncertain, and decided to return to his own room for a few hours before dinner. He didn’t think he could face the McTerrells or the Birkins after seeing what he’d just seen, knowing what he now knew. He didn’t want to talk to any of them until Richard had had the conversations he needed to have with Charles and Rhett.
Adam thought for a moment about trying to find Ella—if nothing else, she would be able to help him think through what he’d witnessed and calm his nerves—but he decided against it. There was no point in worrying her, not until Richard had had his chance to speak with Rhett. Adam thought of how distraught he’d been after Cody’s death. He still hadn’t really recovered from that. How would Ella react to the knowledge that all this time she’d been living with a killer?
Of course, Rhett, hadn’t always been a killer. It was possible that the desperate circumstances had simply driven him to such a violent act.
But that didn’t matter. That didn’t make his violence any less appalling. They were all in desperate circumstances, Adam thought. And the rest of them didn’t go around killing people.
Lost in thought, he was taken aback when a door in front of him opened and he almost collided with Chase.
“Oh,” Chase said, his voice hushed. “Sorry.”
“Why are you whispering?” Adam looked around. “Hang on. This is the Birkins’ side of the house. What are you doing over here?”
“Just walking around,” Chase said, somewhat shiftily.
“No you’re not. You never come over this way…what’s that in your hand?”
“Quiet,” Chase hissed, moving to conceal what he held.
But Adam had seen. Chase was holding a pair of pill bottles.
Bottles he’d gotten from the Birkins’ side of the house.
Adam stared, mute with fascinated horror, as the younger man held his finger to his lips and slipped away down the hall.
So this was why Chase hadn’t been showing symptoms of withdrawal. He wasn’t in withdrawal. He was still using. He had found another source of narcotics.
He was stealing them.
Adam didn’t know which member of the Birkin family Chase was stealing from, but three of the four had definitely exhibited erratic behavior lately. Could this be to blame? Had someone—or possibly more than one someone—started to experience the lack of a medication they needed?
This was getting out of hand, and fast.
And what was Adam going to do about it? He couldn’t very well go to Richard with this news, not when he’d just finished justifying his choice to tell Richard and not the McTerrells about the murder Rhett had committed. Besides, he thought, murder outweighed drug theft. Yesterday, Chase’s crime would have been the biggest thing any of them had to think about. Today it wouldn’t even be headline news.
Which meant that he couldn’t tell the McTerrells about it either. Not today. Today they would be forced to confront the fact that Rhett had killed someone. It would be best i
f everyone’s heads were cool, and their eyes clear, for the conversation and the decisions that would have to follow. If Charles knew that his son had been stealing, he might judge Rhett’s crime more harshly than he would otherwise have done to make Chase look better by comparison.
He would confront Chase himself. That was the only option. And it was a good option, too, Adam thought. Hadn’t he promised Chase that he wouldn’t tell anyone about his drug habit? He didn’t want to break his promise this soon. He would go to Chase directly, tell him what he’d seen, and ask him to return the drugs.
If Chase said no?
Then I will tell someone, Adam thought. Then I’ll be doing it for his own good. Not to punish him, but to help him kick his habit. I’m basically his sponsor, after all. It’s my responsibility.
He returned to his room and closed the door behind him, feeling utterly exhausted. He wouldn’t have the conversation he needed to have with Chase tonight, he decided. No doubt the younger man was expecting Adam to come after him with questions or a telling-off. He was probably holed up somewhere preparing his defenses. His excuses. Better to speak to him when he wasn’t expecting it. The conversation would be more honest that way.
And, if Adam was honest with himself, he also liked the fact that that meant he could lie down for a few hours and stop worrying about everything that had happened today.
He fell facedown on his bed, eyes closed, limp with fatigue. It felt as if they were on the verge of something awful, as if the tension between the Birkins and the McTerrells was building to a breaking point. The only question was, what would happen when that point was reached?
This is how it felt on the boat. This is exactly how it felt the night before Cody died.
But that wouldn’t happen again, he told himself firmly. It couldn’t happen. There were more people now. Even if someone did snap, the way Cody had, the situation wouldn’t get out of control because there would be more of them present to help restore order.
The thought didn’t comfort him as much as it should have, though, and when he closed his eyes and tried to will himself to sleep, Cody’s face drifted behind his eyelids, and Cody’s voice rang in his ears: “You betrayed me.”
Escape The Dark (Book 2): Fearful World Page 11
