Storm warning, p.27
Storm Warning, page 27
“He’s fine,” Lloyd says in a way that cuts off further questions.
“Is there room inside the shed?” I ask, changing the subject.
“It’s not very comfortable in there,” Alaina says. “The grass is soaked, though. And the rain will land on her out here.”
“Hold on,” Nina says. “I see something we can use. Over there.” She nods to the other side of the lawn. “Can the two of you hold her?”
“Sure,” Alaina says. “Jake and I can handle it.”
Nina and Kiara let go. They jog across the lawn and grab a sheet of roofing material—not the one covering Stanley—and haul it back to us. They place it on the ground, close to a palm tree that somehow made it through the night.
Alaina and I scoot in that direction. Kiara and Nina help us gently set Catalina on the metal sheet, so she stays drier than she would on the lawn. Lloyd resumes his position, keeping the rain off her face.
The drizzle lands on my head and shoulders. A steady breeze whips across us.
It’s safe to say we’re through the worst of the hurricane.
I back away from the others, try to collect my thoughts.
Alaina comes up next to me. She speaks low enough that no one else can hear. “What happened, Jake? I can tell something happened.”
I tell her what I saw. I feel my chin quivering but manage to keep it together.
Alaina places her hand on my arm. “I’m sorry, Jake. I really am. But I made it out of the water. In a sinking car. And I can’t even swim that well.”
“They’re both good swimmers.”
“See?”
“But the current out there…it’s brutal. I stood in it. I felt it. You don’t even want to know how close I came to swimming out there myself. Lloyd pulled me back. He saved me. Who’s going to save them?”
“The sun’s up, Jake. The police will come looking for us soon. We can find out—”
“Sure.” I cut her off, grateful for the support but knowing there’s nothing she can say to make me feel better.
“Jake!” Someone yells my name across the lawn. Sawyer stands in the doorway of the shed, his weight leaning on his cane. “Something’s wrong with Hazel.”
Eighty-Three
8:46 a.m.
“She’s not doing too well,” Sawyer tells me when I get there. “And she’s asking for you.”
Inside, I find Hazel leaned back against a rusting cabinet. She fans herself with a moldy piece of cardboard, packaging for a garden hose someone purchased years earlier. Her face is covered with sweat, and her skin looks pallid.
“Oh, Jacob. Good. You’re back.”
“I am. How are you, Hazel?”
“I’m old.”
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Did you hear me say I’m old? That means the answer is no.”
I don’t see any way to make her more comfortable. There’s no place to lie down unless she wants to join Catalina on a piece of sheet metal on the grass.
“I’m hoping we’ll get help soon,” I say. “If you can hang on.”
“I’ve been hanging on for years.” Her lips look dry and cracked. Her fanning slows. “Did you see him?”
“Who?”
“The man. The stalker.”
“I didn’t see anyone but Lloyd and Catalina. I guess I was lucky.”
“Did you get the gift?”
I sigh. “I didn’t. It’s not safe to go into the building, Hazel. It’s about to collapse.”
She stops fanning herself. Her grip on the cardboard is tight, her knuckles white. She looks past me.
Ethan and Sawyer are standing just outside the door, talking in low voices.
“What?” I ask. “What’s wrong?”
Her chin lifts ever so slightly. I can’t tell if it’s an intentional gesture or a spasm. But she does it again. “Jacob?”
I bend down, get close to her. “What is it?”
“You need to go in and get that gift. For me. You need to get it.”
“Oh, Hazel—”
“Jacob, I don’t ask for much.”
I laugh, despite myself. “Did you really just say that? To me?” I can’t help myself. I have to ask. “What’s the gift, Hazel? Why is it such a big deal?”
“Jacob…” She lowers her voice. “It’s very important. To the island. That’s why that man wants to get his claws on it….”
“If you want me to go back into a building that’s about to collapse, there’s got to be a better reason than that.”
Her eyes trail past me again.
This time someone’s here. Inside the shed.
“Jake?”
Ethan stands just inside the door. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Hazel grips my arm. “Jacob…please…”
“Just a minute.” I gently extract myself from her clutches. “I’ll be back.”
“Jacob, please.”
I feel someone tugging at the back of my shirt. The gun slips out of my pants.
I turn and find myself face-to-face with the barrel of the Glock. Ethan’s hands shake as he points it my way.
Eighty-Four
He steps back.
Ethan keeps the gun pointed at me with one hand. With the other, he shuts the shed door behind him.
“Ethan…” My insides feel watery and cold. Is that how Jordan and Mackenzie felt? “Just…”
“You can’t go in the building. You can’t get that gift.”
I swallow hard. “I assume you’re not saying that because you’re concerned about my safety.”
“Jake…” Hazel’s voice sounds hollow, weak.
“It’s about to collapse,” Ethan says.
The gun still shakes in his hand, which makes me even more uneasy. As if it’s possible to be more uneasy.
“Just let it fall,” Ethan says. “And everything inside it. That’s all you need to do.”
“Why do you care so much about it? Or about me?”
“Just let it go, Jake,” he says. “It’s for the best.”
“Do you even know how to use that?” I ask.
“Just squeeze,” he says. “Don’t make me do it, Jake. I will, but please don’t make me.”
“Don’t you want to get your computer equipment?”
He shakes his head. “I’ll buy more.”
“I never should have trusted him, Jake. I just wanted help….”
I turn my head halfway toward Hazel. “What did you find out?”
“Shut up,” Ethan says. “It doesn’t matter.”
I speak to Hazel, my eyes still pointed toward Ethan. “I know you were researching the history of the island. Hazel, what did you find—”
“Jake, don’t.” He pushes the gun closer to me.
“You must have learned something that puts this whole deal in jeopardy. But what? The buyers don’t care about the buildings, so what—”
“Jake…”
“You’re asking me too many questions, Jacob,” Hazel says. She fans herself with her hand. “It’s hot. I feel weak. Tired.”
“What did you find, Hazel?”
“I’m so—it’s just so…” Hazel looks to the ceiling of the shed, like she can see through it. “This is my life’s work…my husband’s…so much work…”
“What is it?” I ask.
“It’s in the box.”
“Why didn’t you just take it to the authorities? Why wrap it up like a gift?”
“I trusted you to get it out,” Hazel says. “I had to be sure the right person would deliver it.”
“Jake, you know this is crazy,” Ethan says. “You know she’s crazy.”
“Stop,” I say to Ethan. “Just stop.”
“She went on and on about this. For months. She wanted me to scan the papers, but I never saw anything important. It’s just nonsense. Old documents and deeds. It’s crazy.”
“Well, I don’t trust you,” Hazel says. “And as it turns out, I was right—you were working with him. My stalker.”
“Jake, you know Hazel has lost her mind. This is the dementia talking.”
“I said, stop it.”
“You can’t deny you’ve said the same thing about her, Jake. Hell, you say it almost every day.”
“Is that true, Jacob? Is this how little regard you have for me? I thought we were friends. I thought you respected me.”
“Oh, it’s true. He said it all the time. Him and Dallas…”
All of a sudden I remember what he said to me in the garage. I’m not a bad guy, am I, Jake? “What are they giving you, Ethan? Is it just money?”
“Just money? Listen to the way you say that. You say that because you’re rich.”
“I’m far from rich—”
“You have a house. A family. Someone to catch you when you fall. Not me.”
“My family is gone.”
My words bring Ethan up short.
“What are you talking about?” he asks.
I tell him, and Hazel. The dinghy in the water. No sign of Jordan or Mackenzie.
“I’m so sorry, Jacob,” Hazel says. “That’s terrible.”
“When we get off this island…I may not have anything either. I understand exactly how you feel, Ethan.”
“It’s not true…. You’re lying, Jake.”
“What kind of monster would I have to be to lie about something like that?” Is that the kind of person Ethan is? The kind of person who would lie about the survival of his own family? “Look, Ethan, what’s your plan here? You can’t shoot me and get away with it. Everybody’s right outside. And there’s nowhere to go until the police arrive.”
“Aaron’s going to get me off the island. He promised.”
“That’s his name? Aaron? He’s the guy who works for the buyers? The guy who killed Dallas and Tyler?”
“I think he did, yes.”
“Why kill Tyler? Don’t they want the same thing?”
“I don’t know, Jake. He’s determined. They’re all determined. They want everything for themselves. People go crazy for money. We all do.”
“And you’re helping them?”
“Just…just let me get what I want, Jake.”
The doorknob rattles. I can’t be sure if it’s because of the wind or someone trying to get in.
Ethan turns his head slightly, lets the gun drop.
I take my chance. I dive forward, burying my shoulder into his chest, knocking him backward. The door swings open at just that moment, so rather than hitting the closed door, we go through it. Alaina jumps out of the way.
Ethan and I land on the wet ground. He exhales a giant breath of air as the gun flies out of his hand.
I anticipate a struggle, brace myself for having to subdue him.
I’m tired. Weary. I don’t want to do this.
But I have to.
Ethan squirms beneath me, trying to buck me off his body. He manages to free one of his hands and starts swinging at my head. He connects a couple of times.
But Alaina is right there. She reaches for the Glock, but it slips out of her hand and falls back to the wet ground.
“Get it, Alaina,” I say as I swing at Ethan once and then twice. I manage to connect with one of the swings. Ethan looks stunned. His eyes squint shut.
I relax a little. His eyes pop open.
He swings again, a glancing blow.
“Get the gun, Alaina!”
She manages to grab it this time.
Ethan continues to squirm, but Alaina steps close. She points the Glock right at him.
“Don’t even try it, Ethan,” she says. “We’re done.”
He looks like he wants to keep fighting. He even clenches his fist.
But then a look of defeat falls over him. His fist opens.
Ethan is finally still.
Eighty-Five
Sawyer finds some rope in the shed.
Alaina marches Ethan behind the outbuilding and holds the gun on him while Sawyer and I tie his hands and feet.
Not that there’s anywhere for him to go.
“You’ll put in a good word for me, won’t you, Jake? With the police? I didn’t hurt anybody.”
“You threatened my life.”
“But I didn’t shoot. I don’t even know how to shoot.”
“You’ll get to tell the cops whatever you want.”
“Cops. They won’t listen to a guy like me. I just need the money. This is all Hazel’s fault.”
“Hazel’s fault?” Alaina asks. She looks far too comfortable holding the gun. I try not to think too much about that. “How is this Hazel’s fault?”
“She went digging around when no one asked her to. Why did she do that? She interfered, stuck her nose where it didn’t belong. You know how businesspeople get when they lose money. She started writing them letters. They ignored her for a long time, but she shifted gears and kept looking into it.”
“So, then what?” I ask. “This Aaron guy wanted you to get whatever this stuff is from Hazel?”
“He approached me and asked if I wanted to make some money. But I couldn’t find anything. None of it made sense. Hazel doesn’t make sense. That’s why Aaron took matters into his own hands.”
Sawyer straightens up. “I guess we just wait now, huh, Jake? Hope the cops show up. Or at least the Coast Guard.”
“Yeah…except…”
“Except,” Alaina says, “that Aaron dude is still running loose. And whatever Hazel found is still in the building, right?”
“I think I left it in Dallas’ apartment. I was carrying it when I found Dallas. I must have dropped it.”
“Why did you have it?” Alaina asks.
“Hazel gave it to me. I mean, I didn’t know what it was. She said it was a going-away present, but apparently it’s these important documents she’s been talking about.”
“The cops can find it,” Sawyer says. “It’s a crime scene. They’ll go over the whole apartment with a fine-tooth comb.” He shrugs. “At least that’s what they do on TV.”
“Yeah, right.” I turn to the building, lifting my hand to my eyes to shade them from the brightening day.
Alaina turns as well, squints. She doesn’t seem overly worried about Ethan, whose head has sunk to his chest. He looks like he’s about to fall asleep.
“You’re worried the building’s not going to make it that long,” she says. “Right?”
“I am.” I wipe a trickle of sweat off my cheek. “If I can just get in there for a second, go to Dallas’ apartment, grab the gift, get out…”
“And end up under a pile of rubble,” Sawyer says.
We both turn to him.
He shrugs again. “I’m just saying.”
“He’s right, Jake.”
“Besides,” Sawyer says, “it won’t help us. They’re tearing it all down anyway. We have to go. Hell, look at the building. No one can live there now.”
“That’s true,” I say. “But I…I kind of believe Hazel. I think she found something.”
“Jake, you can’t be serious,” Sawyer says.
But I’m not listening anymore. I’m already walking toward the building.
“Don’t you want the gun?” Alaina asks.
I stop, look back at Ethan.
He really does appear to be sleeping. Not to mention his hands and feet are still bound. “I don’t think he’s going anywhere.” She holds the Glock out toward me.
I hate the sight of it. The thought of it.
But…
Eighty-Six
9:02 a.m.
I cross the lawn by myself.
As I do, my eyes trail up the building, and then on to the gray, choppy water and the mainland beyond.
I cling to hope, scanning the seascape expectantly. What am I hoping to see?
A boat moving toward the island.
More lights burning.
A helicopter overhead.
Just one small sign of life.
But my surroundings are oddly silent. We’re going to be on our own longer than I anticipated. And I may not know the fate of my family for a long time. It may be hours, even days.
I push those thoughts aside.
It helps to have an immediate task. Something larger than my own worries.
The water has mostly receded from the floor of the parking garage. The sewers have stopped belching everything up. The Glock rests once again at the small of my back, not as heavy as it felt before. Maybe I’m getting used to it. It’s a thought that sends a shiver through my body.
I start up the stairs. I’m moving slowly. Not because I’m afraid or cautious, but because I’m dead tired. I’ve been up all night. I’ve been hot and cold at the same time. I was soaking wet for hours, and now my clothes are drying stiffly. I feel like I’m wearing a burlap bag.
A gentle onshore wind blows down the stairs. It feels refreshing. Belying the precariousness of our situation.
I make the turn at the landing and see no one. From the lawn, my fellow tenants watch me like I’m an actor on a stage. They’re a motley group. Six months earlier I couldn’t have dreamed this would be my life. But now we’re connected in ways I couldn’t have imagined when I moved here. We’ll be bonded forever. Alaina still stands with her hand shading her eyes. She shrugs. I get it. She hasn’t seen anything unusual. I try not to feel falsely confident or let my guard down.
It takes effort to climb. Normally I would bound up these stairs. But not now.
When I reach the second-floor walkway, my breathing is louder. But I see nothing, feeling a sudden hope.
Get to Dallas’ apartment and get out. That’s all I have to do.
I glance back to the lawn. Alaina is jabbing her finger in the air, pointing at something to her right and my left. Toward the other end of the walkway.
My head snaps that way. But I know before I look what I’m going to see.
