Page 22 of Murder Island

WHEN I OPENED my eyes, I saw the first rays of sun poking through the back of the lean-to. I listened for voices, but all I heard was the rolling surf. Strange. Maybe the boys had already gone out to fish, or maybe they’d headed home—wherever home was. I imagined a bunch of angry parents waiting for them on a beach somewhere over the horizon. Maybe they’d be grounded, I thought.

I rolled over. No Kira. Probably off doing her sunrise yoga. She’d tried to get me interested once or twice, but I’d rather sleep than stretch.

I crawled out of the hut and stared across the sand. Two things hit me wrong. The outrigger canoes were floating offshore, empty. And the dinghy was lying halfway up the beach, deflated.

Then I saw the shapes in the surf.

My heart started pounding. For a second, my visionalmost went black. I felt a surge of adrenaline as I ran toward the water.

I got to the smallest boy first. “Dai!” He was face down, half buried in wet sand. The water all around him was pale red. I grabbed his bony shoulder and turned him over. Blood oozed from a deep slash across his throat.

The bile rose in my belly. I felt like vomiting. I held it down and turned toward the other shapes in the water. Five more boys. I ran from one to the next. Same limp bodies. Same bloody gashes.

I looked back up the beach. Near the firepit, my cutlass was stuck into the sand. The blade was glistening red.

“Kira!”I shouted at the top of my lungs. I waded out into the surf, looking for another body in the water. Praying I wouldn’t find one. Water splashed up to my chest. Then I spotted theAlbatross. She was mostly underwater, keel up. Sunk.

I was crazed now.“Kira!”I shouted again.“Where are you?”

Nothing.

I waded back to shore and turned around. Suddenly, the horizon was filled with boats—huge outrigger canoes, with four or five brown-skinned men in each, paddling powerfully toward the island.

I knelt down in the sand. All the breath went out of me. I knew in an instant why the men were here.

They were looking for their children.

And they were about to find them.

Dead.

CHAPTER 25

KIRA’S MOUTH WAS dry and her whole body ached. She felt like she was inside a throbbing metal shell. She squeezed her eyes tight, then tried to open them again. Her eyelids felt weighted and crusty.

All she could remember was falling asleep next to Doc in the lean-to. It felt like a long time ago. Her eyes finally opened. She looked down. She was in a narrow seat with strands of plastic-coated cable wrapped around her body. Her arms were pinned to her sides. She felt herself being tipped sideways and heard the whine of an engine above her.

Her brain started to clear. She blinked and pieced together her surroundings, like assembling a puzzle.

She was in a helicopter, tied to a seat in the rear. The cockpit door was closed. She craned her neck to glimpse out a small window in the side of the cabin. The chopper was about a thousand feet up. Nothing but open water below.

The aircraft banked hard and started to descend. Kira stamped her feet on the rubber-lined deck and shouted,“Doc!”

No answer.

She twisted her head around as far as she could.

No Doc. No boys. She was alone.

As the chopper leveled out, a shape came into view through the window, about a quarter-mile off. It was a huge yacht, sleek and streamlined. Kira squinted. Yachts were usually painted white, to reflect the sun. This one was covered in naval camouflage, almost invisible against the water. Like a ghost.

As the chopper approached, a big X lit up on the stern. A landing platform.

Kira took in quick breaths through her nostrils, forcing oxygen to her brain. She needed to clear her head and get some answers, then make a plan. Whoever took her could have just killed her on the beach, and they didn’t. Which meant they wanted something from her.

Or maybe, Kira thought, they just preferred to kill her here.

CHAPTER 26

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