Page 34 of Lawless (Dauntless Island #2)

“How long does it take to get from there to here? Because he’s been gone for”—I checked my watch—“two hours, and this is a very small island.”

“Two...” Button John blinked as his very drunk brain attempted a calculation. “No, that can’t be right.”

“Where’s the cave?” Nipper Will asked.

“Mayfair Bay,” Button John said, forehead creased. “Like, at the western end. You know where the rocks come out?”

Nipper Will growled. “The whole fucking bay is full of rocks.” He grabbed Button John and shoved him towards me. “Get your bloody bike,” he told me. “Get him on it, and I’ll meet you there.”

He set off at a run into the darkness.

“What’s going on?” Button John asked. “Am I getting a ride on your bike? Cool!”

It was not cool. It was not cool at all.

* * *

B utton John was a fucking hazard on the back of the bike—I was afraid he’d fall off every time we bounced over bump, and there were a lot of those on the tracks that criss-crossed the island—but we still beat Nipper Will to Mayfair Bay.

We passed him somewhere just before Robbie Finch’s farm, running like the Terminator—like nothing could stop him.

Button John fell to his knees once we got to Mayfair Bay, and threw up again.

“Natty!” I yelled down to the beach, the wind stealing my voice. “Natty!”

There was no answer, but I hadn’t really expected one.

I hauled Button John up and we followed the beam of my torch down the rocky path to the beach.

“Which way?” I asked, and he pointed.

When we splashed out into the shallows, the torchlight caught on something washing back and forth in the waves.

Fabric. I stopped and pulled it free—the T-shirt and shorts Natty had been wearing tonight at the church.

Shit. He must have put them under a rock to keep the wind from blowing them away.

Except he hadn’t come back in time and the tide had caught them.

“It’s fine!” Button John exclaimed. “There’s a chamber at the top, so even if the tide comes in, it’s fine. We’ve been doing it since we were kids.”

“Where the hell is he, then?” I asked, and Button John’s face fell. Maybe the ride had sobered him up—more likely the vomiting had—and he was starting to realise for the first time that something could be seriously wrong here. “Show me where this cave is.”

He squinted in the moonlight. “See that big rock? The entrance is in a hole behind that. You have to swim in.”

Fucking great.

I checked the pouches on my vest were secure.

I’d grabbed it out of habit when I’d got the keys for the dirt bike.

I’d left my firearm and Taser in the safe, but it had everything else I might need—a multitool, a basic first aid kit—and my torch was a familiar weight hanging from my belt.

I pulled my radio out and shoved it into Button John’s hands, clipping the mic to his T-shirt.

“Don’t let this get wet. Go and wait for Nipper Will. Tell him where I’ve gone.”

“It’s fine,” Button John said, but there was a questioning tone in his voice like he wanted me to reassure him, and he suddenly looked very young. “Dominic... it’s fine, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s gonna be fine. Go and wait for Will.”

I guess I was about to find out how waterproof my torch actually was.

Seawater filled my shoes as I waded out deeper, my gaze fixed on the large rock Button John had pointed out.

Was it only a few hours ago I was thinking about shit I’d done at the academy and never needed again?

Going swimming while fully dressed was definitely one of those, but I’d rather be dealing with soggy sneakers than risk my feet on sharp rocks.

As I waded out deeper, the water caught me, pulling me forward as a wave receded from the shore.

I went with it, launching myself into a breaststroke.

The water was cold, but not too bad. I barely noticed it anyway, too fixated on my goal.

The next wave pushed me back, and I hit the rocks.

Saltwater stung my eyes—my pride too. If Natty and Button John could make this swim, and had been since they were little kids, there was no way I was going to let a couple of bruises stop me.

The wave swelled, lifting me with it, and I reached out and grabbed the big rock that Button John had pointed out, my fingers scraping against barnacles.

Another sharp sting told me I’d drawn blood, but it only hurt for a second.

I clung to the rock as best as I could with one hand, while I pulled my torch off my belt and turned it on.

It actually fucking works!

The beam illuminated a hole in the shelf beyond the rock I was hugging, and my stomach clenched at the thought of swimming down into it when I didn’t know how narrow it was, how deep it was, and how long I’d have to hold my breath for before I could come up again for air.

Was there room to turn around if I had to?

This was a bad idea in so many ways, but Natty was on the other side, and there was something wrong.

I didn’t have a choice. Even if I had, I would have done this anyway.

I refastened the torch to my belt.

I sucked in a deep breath and held it. Then, timing it with the next wave, I propelled myself past the rock and towards the entrance to the cave.

Holy shit.

The heart-stopping terror of swimming into an underwater tunnel in the middle of the night might have been crippling, except it was over before I’d even registered how terrifying it was.

I barely had to swim at all—the waves pushed me in like I was riding the chute of a waterslide.

I’d hardly had time to register what the hell was happening when the water churned like a washing machine, my hands hit rock, and there was nowhere to go but up.

Cool air hit my face as I surfaced in the darkness, relief and exhilaration bursting with the bubbles around me.

I made it!

I swam forward, another wave pushing me deeper into the cave.

When my shoes crunched against sand, I struggled upright, wet jeans rasping, my shirt stuck to me.

I fumbled at my belt for my torch, still underwater, and managed to pull it free.

I turned it on, and nothing happened. I bashed it against my hand and tried again. The beam flickered but stayed on.

I swept the cave with the beam.

The entrance was wide but low; if I reached up, I could touch the roof.

Jagged rocks, as sharp as teeth, jutted up on my right.

I was glad I hadn’t had to navigate anything like that on my way in.

To the left, what appeared to be a narrow path rose sharply out of the water.

The beam of the torch bounced off dark rock.

“Who’s there?” someone called.

Natty .

I splashed forward. “Natty?”

My torchlight found him. He was standing in the water about ten or fifteen metres away from me, neck twisted as he stared towards me with wide eyes.

“Natty! It’s me! It’s Dominic!”

He wrapped his arms around his bare torso, twisting again and squinting in the torchlight. “Dominic?”

I pushed my way through the chest-high water to get to him. “What the hell are you doing?”

His mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear him over the echo of the waves.

“What?”

His bottom lip trembled. “I’m stuck.”

“What?” I’d heard it that time, but it didn’t make any sense.

His chest rose and fell rapidly. “I’m stuck!” He swallowed. “My foot. It’s caught.”

“Okay,” I said, reaching out to him. And shit, yeah, my foot slipped too, knocking hard against the rocks. I almost stumbled, but I caught myself, and steadied. I put my hands on his shoulders, and he was so cold. I rubbed some warmth into him. “Okay, we’ll get you out.”

How bad could it be, right?

By the look on his face, I should have known my optimism was misplaced.

“Which foot?”

“My right.”

I held my breath, ducked under the water, and felt my way down his leg.

I hit rock before I hit his ankle. I couldn’t see a bloody thing, even with my torch.

Natty’s ankle vanished into the gap between two rocks.

I stuck my fingers down there too, carefully feeling my way, but I couldn’t see exactly how he was caught.

And I didn’t want to wrench him too hard in case he’d broken the ankle or something.

I came up for breath, standing up and shaking water from my face. “Can you move it at all?”

The torchlight glanced off his cheek as he shook his head. “I’ve been here...” His voice shook, and I didn’t think it was just from the cold. “I’ve been here for hours.”

“Hey.” I wrapped my arms around him. Nudged my nose against his, and ignored the black pit of worry that opened up in my gut, as dark as the cave we were standing in. “It’s okay. We’re working on it, alright?”

His cold fingers brushed against my jaw. “Tide’s still coming in, Dominic.”

And just like that, the bottom of the pit in my stomach opened, and fear came screaming out.

I refused to let it show on my face. I angled the torch towards the wall.

Barnacles. Slime. Seaweed. Button John had said there was a chamber at the top—presumably at the end of the path Natty had been taking when he’d become trapped—but this part of the cave?

This was below the high-water mark, by at least a metre or two.

“Okay,” I said. “Tide’s still coming in? When is high tide?”

“What time is it now?”

“I think it’s about eleven?”

Natty closed his eyes. “Then high tide’s in about an hour. But I reckon I’ve got about half that before it’s over my head.”

Half an hour.

That was barely enough time to get to the village and back and it sure as shit wasn’t enough time to get a rescue team from the mainland.

My panicked brain whirled. Young Harry Barnes’s house was just up the beach, and from the glimpse I’d got of the place, the guy was a pack rat.

He had to have something lying around. A snorkel, some scuba gear, hell, even a length of garden hose would do—just something to buy us some time until we could get Natty free.

“Okay, here’s the plan.” I wedged the torch under my arm so I could rub his cold shoulders again. “I’d say stay here, but you don’t have a lot of choice, huh?”

Natty gave me a shaky smile.

“I’m going to go to Young Harry Barnes’s house and?—”

“You can’t,” Natty said. He shook his head.

“What do you mean?”

“The waves are too strong. That’s—that’s why we wait it out up top.” His expression crumpled, and mine sure as hell did the same as he spelled out the bleeding obvious for a dumbfuck mainlander like me. “Dominic, you can’t get out of here when the tide’s still coming in.”

And then he began to cry.