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“We’re not in the mess hall?”
“Yeah. Her targets fled deeper into the camp barracks or out toward the runway. Meaning…”
Vaughn gets it. “She would head out as well. Leaving the dock and rec building area unattended.” He stares at me. “And the UTVs.”
“I think we should grab one. We can cover ground much faster, and it’s harder to ambush a moving target.”
“We’re not exactly stealthy in a motorized vehicle.”
“Versus now? Crunching and snapping with every other footstep? If you wanted to glide like a ghost around this atoll, you shouldn’t have covered the trails with crushed coral. We might as well be walking around on bubble wrap.”
“I’ll pass along your complaints to management,” he answers dryly. “Wait, I already have a reply. Bite me. And now that’s out of the way, let’s go.”
He hefts the shotgun, and we return to our tight little formation. I illuminate before us; he guards behind us.
We do our best to move steady and silent. It’s still shockingly loud to our ears, though the squawking cries and beating wings of dozens upon dozens of seabirds help drown out the worst of it.
We make it to the bathhouse, where the smoke from the mess hall fire lingers in sooty, black waves. We hold our breath to pass through, looping around till we’re approaching the rec hall from the back, our eyes on the line of UTVs parked beside it.
There should be three vehicles. Now I count two.
And I spy a dark lump on the ground.
“Stay,” Vaughn murmurs.
I don’t need any encouragement to remain rooted in place.
Vaughn advances to the fallen form, crouching down to inspect. He turns away, left hand pressed over his mouth. On much shakier legs he returns to me.
“Elias,” I guess.
He nods.
“Keahi? Or Leilani?” Knife or gun?
“Keahi. Most definitely.”
I don’t ask any more questions. I don’t want to know. Instead, I step into him, drawing his arms around me, my turn to let him sag against me. We take a second, two, three, four. Listening to each other’s heartbeats. Feeding each other strength. Then he steps back, draws a final shaky breath.
“Looks like they returned here, for whatever reason. Keahi ambushed them.”
“Did you, um… Elias’s gun?”
“Not there.”
“They took it. And MacManus. And a UTV.” I peer in the opposite direction of the cabins. There’s only one place they could’ve gone.
“Mac’s place,” Vaughn provides. “Maybe some kind of rendezvous point. They’re waiting for Brent? But why not just… If this is all about killing Mac, why haven’t they just done it by now?”
“Oh, I can think of a few reasons.”
Judging by the sudden pallor of his face, he can, too. “Ah, shit.”
“Keahi’s waited a long time for this moment.” I shrug. “I don’t think she means to be quick about it.”
“Okay.” Vaughn pulls himself together. “So, we’re down to one angry teenager, armed with a gun, and one extremely violent serial predator, bearing a machete.”
“In the good news department, they’re not exactly trained professionals.”
