Page 94 of The Island

Petra stirred, shivered. “Is everything all right?”

“So far. I’m going back to the mesa to see what’s happening.”

“OK,” Petra said, reluctant to move and wake the kids. “I’ll look after them,” Petra added.

Heather nodded and walked to an old gnarled gum tree that had been burned to charcoal. A bird with blue feathers and a long beak was sitting on the upper branches gazing at her.

The bird squawked.

“Same to you,” she said.

She sat at the base of the tree.

The dogs were coming today. Dutch Island was not big. There were no forests, no mountains, no places to hide. The dogs would find them.

If they gave themselves up, she knew exactly what would happen. Probably only Olivia would survive. And that wouldn’t be much of a survival.

Better to risk it with the sharks.

“What would you do?” she asked the bird.

It was looking south.

She followed its gaze and saw movement by the ferry terminal. She watched for a while and saw vehicles on the far shore.

She heard the sound of motorcycles and that distinctive Toyota Hilux engine.

She leaned against the tree and waited.

Eventually she heard the ferry’s big diesel engines kick in and she watched the vessel churn up a wake. There was a pickup truck on it and some kind of cage in the back of the pickup.

The dogs were coming.

She ran back to the beach. The kids were already awake. Petra was pointing at the water. “The ferry is coming back,” Petra said.

Heather nodded. “They are going to be hunting us with dogs today. We’ve got to move. We’ve got to keep one step ahead of them.”

“Where will we go?” Olivia asked.

“As far away from here as we can get. Our scent is all over this beach.”

They watched the ferry cross the water. They could hear a couple of the dogs barking excitedly. She was angry at herself. The trail from the prison would take them directly here. She should have thought of that last night, tried a diversion or a—

“We should go,” Petra said.

And it was on. Olivia, Owen, and Petra got to their feet and brushed themselves off. Olivia knocked sand out of her sneakers. Owen tightened the belt on his shorts.

South was the ferry terminal, east was the heath, west was the water—their business now was north.

North along the beach.

Through the rock pools.

Through the mangrove bushes, mosquitoes, flies, land crabs. The kelp was stinking; the day was hot and it had only just begun.

The tide was out, exposing those friendly rocks from yesterday. They’d be seen easily if they tried that trick again. The rocks wouldn’t save them today.

Heather could hear another motorcycle and an ATV. At least two cars. A lot of people. Three or four dogs.