“Creepy.” He leaned on her and they started upward. He looked back down the mountain. “Slouching toward Bethlehem.”
“Are you quoting Yeats?”
“ ‘The Second Coming,’ ” he said. He slipped and Emma kept him upright.
“In the poem it has a lion’s body and a man’s head,” she said.
“It’s meant to be the devil returning. That’s what this beast looks like. A creature from hell.” He twisted his head to look behind them. “It’s starting to move. Coming toward us. It has long, thin, bent legs with claws for feet, but it stands fairly upright.”
“There’s nothing there, you’ve got to believe me. Think about Joseph. He’s the one we need to worry about, not random beasts.”
“With any luck Joseph thinks we’re dead,” he said. Emma kept dragging him up the slope. Her feet sank deep with each step and she pulled them out with a sucking sound. He turned his head again.
“The red-eyed one is crawling out of the car.” Emma felt a chill run along her spine.
“You need to stop telling me about it. It’s creeping me out. Focus on something else.”
“ ‘And what rough beast, its hour come ’round at last, slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?’ ” he said. He slipped and dropped to his knees, taking Emma down to hers as well. She rose back up and they kept moving.
“Almost there.” She felt him twist again to look back. He inhaled sharply.
“They’re gaining on us. The red-eyed one has the same body, but it’s crawling on all fours. Moving fast.”
“Stop looking back,” Emma said. Her thighs burned from dragging the heavy rubber boots out of the mud and walking up the steep incline.
“Give me the gun,” he said.
“No. We need the bullets.”
“They’re only five feet away. I’ve got to shoot them.”
Emma dragged him the final few feet onto the asphalt road. Only then did she look back. She saw something flit into the trees a few feet lower to her left.
“The big one is gone. The red-eyed one ran into the trees,” Sumner said. He looked at her. “You saw the one go into the trees, didn’t you?”
She didn’t want to encourage him in his hallucinations, but she didn’t want to lie to him either.
“I saw something but it could have been an animal. Besides, I got hit with the scope, too. It’s likely I’m having hallucinations as well, but milder than yours.”
He raised an eyebrow and put out his hand. “My gun.”
“You promise not to shoot at beasts?”
“I promise nothing. But if I see a beast, I’ll verify its existence with you first.” Emma handed him his weapon. He checked it. “It looks like it’s been dragged through the mud.”
Emma nodded. “It probably was while the car was sliding on its side.”
“I hope it fires. I don’t have the time to clean it.” He shoved it in his coat pocket, straightened and looked around. “Do you see all the bats?”
“No bats.”
He rubbed at his face. “This isn’t exactly a recreational drug, is it?”
“Not at all.”
“Which way?”
Emma pointed down the road. “Further down four miles and then back up about five if we stay on the road. We can cut that in half by running down the road one more mile and then hiking straight up.”
“Then let’s go.”
Chapter 46
Joseph dragged Carrow back into the Blue Heron villa. He marched him into the kitchen, where the voodoo priestess was sitting at the table, humming and swaying over a plate of various objects.
“What the hell are you doing?” Joseph said.
She looked up at him. “Curse. He be mine, too.” She pointed at Carrow, grabbed a handful of white powder, stood to face him and blew on her palms. Carrow coughed twice before sucking air in a deep gasp. The woman turned toward Joseph and he aimed his gun at her and pulled the trigger, hitting her dead center in the chest. She jerked backward, got a look of surprise on her face and slowly slumped to the ground.
He stalked to the watercooler in the corner, pulled off a cup from the holder and drank a full cup. He filled it again. When he was done he saw that Carrow was staring at the woman’s body. His face was pale and stress lines bracketed his mouth.
“That’s what will happen to you if you cross me. I don’t care who you are, do you understand?”
Carrow looked at Joseph and nodded.
“This long way around, will it take us past the mangrove?”
Carrow nodded again.
Joseph smiled at him. “What, cat got the famous singer’s tongue?” He looked around the kitchen. “Anybody else in this house I should know about? Where’s the staff?”
“Gone,” Carrow said.
“You sure? Maybe we check each room. I’m not leaving any witnesses.”
“I’m sure,” Carrow said. “I know everyone on this island.”
Joseph shook his head. “No you don’t. You don’t know the one guy who’s brought all this hellfire down on your heads. If you did you wouldn’t have let him on this fancy island.”
“Is he staff or owner?”
Joseph snorted. “Owner. He owns everything. Except me. He only rented me.” He tossed the wax-covered cup into the sink. “Let’s go. Bring it.”
“It?” Carrow asked. Joseph waved the gun in the direction of the corpse.
“Put it in the trunk of the car.”
Carrow walked to the corpse and put his arms under the body’s armpits. He began to drag her across the floor, through the house, out the front and to the car. Joseph kept his gun aimed at him the whole time. Carrow arranged the body in the trunk and closed the lid.
“Now back.”
“Into the house?”
“Yes. Time to clean.” Joseph watched with satisfaction as Carrow cleaned the floor on his hands and knees, using paper towels and floor cleaner. Joseph sat in a chair and drank some more water. “I read once that you guys worshiped Satan. Word was that you embedded satanic ritual sayings in your albums. That if they’re played backward the words ‘God is dead’ can be heard. That true?” Carrow got to his feet and tossed the used paper towels in the garbage. He walked to the sink and washed his hands.
“It’s not. It was all we could do to arrange them when played correctly. We had no idea what the albums would sound like if they were played backward.”
“But the Satan worship. That true?”
Carrow looked at the spot that he’d just cleaned and swallowed. “Martin did some.”
Joseph stood up. “So you got what you asked for. You got me.” Joseph was pleased to see a flash of despair cross Carrow’s face. He needled him further. “I mean, you wanted what Satan does, right? He kills. Like me. You prayed for me and Satan answered.” He put his arms out. “I’m the answer to your prayers.” Joseph laughed. He loved his joke. After a moment he stopped. The skinny singer was looking at him as if he was strange. Evil. Joseph felt his mood swing to angry in a second. “You’re not better than I am. Don’t forget it.” He waved at the hall. “Back to the car. You’re going to drive.”
They worked their way through the house and Joseph kept the gun on Carrow while he buckled up.
“Which way?”
“Just take this road back around. I’ll tell you when to stop.”
Carrow raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He drove with precision, dodging branches and twigs. The windshield wipers slapped against the glass and the wind howled around them, occasionally buffeting the car. When they were still some distance away, Joseph told him to stop.
“Get in the trunk.”
Carrow gave him a look. “What? The trunk?”
Joseph nodded. “You heard me.”
“There’s no more room.”
“Make room. Unless you want to see where we’re headed? In that case, I’ll have no choice but to kill you. No witnesses, remember? So you can either get in the trunk with your girlfriend or you can die.” H
e put the gun up against Carrow’s cheek. He waited for Carrow to flinch, but Carrow stared back at him with a solemn look that lacked fear. He has some guts, Joseph thought.
Carrow pressed the trunk release and opened the driver’s door. Joseph angled out on his side and kept the gun on the singer while he pulled the lid open. He pushed the body farther into the trunk, arranging the woman’s limbs. Then he folded himself into the trunk as well, keeping his back to the corpse. Joseph pointed his gun at the emergency trunk release inside the space. “Touch it and I kill you, understand?”
Carrow flicked a glance at the handle but said nothing.
Joseph slammed the trunk closed, got behind the wheel, and drove the rest of the way to the villa. He pulled into the front under the portico and got out to ring the bell. After a couple of minutes the door opened. The large idiot stood in the doorway and looked at him with his dead eyes.
“Tell him Caldridge and Sumner are dead. The minerals are back on the boat at the harbor. I want my money. I’m getting out of here.”
“Tell him yourself,” the large man said.
Joseph waved at the car. “I got a guy in the trunk that I have to watch. Unless you want to?”
The man turned and disappeared into the house. Joseph returned to the car and leaned against it. Leaves blew across the yard and the rain kept hammering down. He couldn’t wait to leave the stinking island behind him. After ten minutes the front door opened and the large man emerged.
“He says you’re wrong. They aren’t dead.”
Joseph pushed off the car. “You lie!” he said. The man smirked. Joseph pushed past him into the house.
“What about your package in the trunk?” the large man said.
“I don’t care. Where am I going?”
The large man glanced at the car, shrugged and closed the door. “Follow me.”
Joseph followed behind the man and did his best not to urge him to go faster. The man ambled in a loose-jointed slow manner. When he reached the back of the house he turned left and went back to the library door where Joseph had last seen the Vulture. He opened it and stepped inside.
The thin man sat behind a desk in the corner of the room tapping on the front of a paper-thin tablet computer. A green accountant’s light lit the desk pad.
“Why are you lying to me?” the Vulture said, but he didn’t look up from his computer screen.
“I’m not lying. I saw them go over the side of the mountain. The car rolled down at least fifty feet, maybe more. I watched it for a few minutes and no one moved. They’re dead.”
“My contact at the West Hill says they both just appeared there at the door.”
Joseph gritted his teeth together to contain himself. If what the man said was true, then he looked like a liar. Worse, he looked like a traitor. He had no illusions about what this man would do to him if he thought for a second that he was being double-crossed. He felt the first inkling of fear run through him.
“Where’s Aiesha?”
“The voodoo lady?” Joseph asked.
“Yes.”
“Dead,” Joseph said.
The man raised an eyebrow. “Really dead or presumed dead?”
“I shot her. She’s dead. She’s in the trunk of my car. Want to come see for yourself?”
The man got an annoyed look on his face. “I might still have had some use for her. You shouldn’t have killed her without my permission.”
“She used her powder on Carrow. I didn’t want to be next.”
“Her knowledge of plants might have yet come in handy. Especially if the chemist is still roaming around.”
“She won’t be. Not for long.”
“One can only hope. Now get rid of the body. Throw it into the sea, and then go back and finish the job or I’ll finish you. Take Carl with you.”
“No, I work alone,” Joseph said.
“Not anymore you don’t,” the thin man replied.
Joseph turned away and looked at the large idiot Carl, who seemed even less enthused about the idea than he was.
“I have to watch the cameras,” Carl said. “The security team left in the evacuation.”
“Don’t bother. There’s no one left on the island. Go with him and make sure the chemist is dead,” the thin man said. Joseph strode past Carl into the hall and back down to the front door.
“You have a gun?” Joseph asked. Carl nodded.
“How could you have let her get away twice?” Carl sounded disgusted.
“No one told me that she could shoot. I was told that she was a scientist.”
Joseph opened the door and bent his head while he fought the swirling wind back to the car. Carl followed. When they were both in the vehicle, Joseph started it, put it in gear and began to drive. After they’d traveled a couple of feet there was a pinging sound and the image of a car with its trunk lid open appeared in red on the dash. Joseph slammed the car into park. He got out and walked to the rear. The trunk lid hovered open an inch from the clasp. He swung it upward and started breathing faster. The trunk held only the corpse. Carrow was gone.
He was breathing in and out so fast that he started to feel light-headed. He wanted to slam the lid down and scream his frustration to the sky, but he didn’t want the fool in the passenger seat to know that he’d lost control of the hostage. This job was becoming a series of disasters.
Joseph slammed into the car, threw it in gear and floored the gas pedal. The car wheels spun on the wet cobblestones before grabbing. He turned toward the ocean.
“I’m going to the dock. You can help me throw the piece of trash in the trunk into the sea,” he said to Carl.
“Do it yourself,” Carl said. “I didn’t kill her.”
Once at the dock, Joseph slammed out of the car and opened the trunk. He grabbed her arm and dragged the body forward. He picked it up, slung it over one shoulder, and walked to the beginning of the plank walkway.
Ten-foot-high waves crashed over the wooden structure. The skinny man’s yacht was docked on one side, and it bobbed up and down in the turbulence. Joseph took two steps farther onto the pier before bending over and tossing the body. It hit the water with a smacking noise and a wave slammed it against the round wooden dock supports. Joseph didn’t stay to watch. He returned to the car and was relieved to close the door on the driving rain and howling wind.
He drove down the long driveway to the main road and turned to continue around the mountain. Carl gazed out the passenger window and remained silent. The whole time that Joseph navigated the mountain turns he boiled with anger. He wanted to hit something until it died. Anything to release the well of rage inside him. He focused on the chemist. She was the key. Find her, retrieve the minerals, kill her and take off.
As he drove his anger abated and he started thinking a bit more rationally. He thought about how easily the Vulture took the news that the voodoo bokor was dead. How completely expendable she was to him. Was that how he viewed all those who worked for him? It occurred to Joseph for the first time that the thin man had no intention of paying him. He would collect the minerals and have him killed.
He wouldn’t take that risk. He’d steal the minerals for himself, kill all the witnesses, and take off in a boat. Once away he’d arrange his own sale.
And keep all the profits. He smiled in the dark as he drove to the West Hill.
Chapter 47
Emma watched Belinda Rory stagger around the living room of the West Hill villa. She was alternating between talking to herself and crying. Sumner stood next to Ian Porter at the wet bar and stared at the corner of the room with an astonished look on his face. Emma could only imagine that he was seeing more beasts. Porter shoved a rocks glass in Sumner’s hand.
“Drink,” he said. Sumner drank, all the while keeping his eyes glued to the corner. Porter poured another shot and walked over to Emma. “For you. Glad to see you’re in one piece.” Emma still wore her soaking, filthy coat and her hair was plastered against her face. Wet strands hung in front of
her eyes. She sipped the drink, which was a smooth orange brandy, while she watched Rory. The woman had moved in front of a framed black-and-white photo of Carrow onstage that hung on the wall and was muttering to it.
“What’s wrong with her?”
Porter sighed. “I haven’t the slightest idea. She keeps saying that the dead people are all around us and they want to make us join them. She’s been talking this way for hours.”
“Where’s Warner?”
“Asleep.”
“Oh no,” Emma said.
“Sorry, I meant normal sleep.”
Emma brightened. “So the disease hasn’t hit her?”
“Not yet.”
Rory let out a shriek and pointed to the corner. “Do you see the beast?”
Sumner nodded. “You bet I do.”
Porter frowned. “He’s got it, too?”
Emma shook her head. “The witch woman drugged him with scopolamine. He’s having hallucinations.”
“How long will that last?”
“I have no idea, but I hope not much longer, because we all have to leave the island and he’s the only one who can fly the plane.”
Emma felt an overwhelming exhaustion settle over her. She knew that every moment she stood there was a waste of precious time, but she needed to regroup and think. She hoped that Joseph thought they were dead and she could buy some time. She went over to Sumner.
“Do you think you can fly a plane in this condition?”
He tore his eyes from the corner and looked at her. “I can fly a plane in any condition.” He spoke in a matter-of-fact manner. If it was anyone else but Sumner, she would have assumed that he was bragging, but she knew him to be an excellent pilot.
“We have to collect all the people who are still awake, load them on the plane and get the hell out of here,” she said.
“My plane only holds six. We should take Carrow’s jet.”
“Can you fly in this storm?” Porter asked. Sumner looked out the row of French doors. The rain was still a deluge, and the lightning and thunder continued unabated.
“I think I can. It’s going to be unpleasant, though.” He returned his gaze to the corner. “Oh no, the beast is gone.”
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