Page 42

Boarding

Haley

W e’re crouched on the edge of the jungle, waiting. From what we’ve seen, they’ve been changing the guard every two hours. There’s only two of them. And one is definitely not getting a Christmas bonus. He’s sitting on the edge of the deck, smoking. The other one has almost been doing his job.

I want to get going. Do this. I’m scared the boat is going to take off. But we’re waiting for the other one to come back on shift.

“We could just swim? Are you worried they’re going to leave?”

“I was. I’m not sure why they haven’t left yet. But I’m not worried anymore.” Easton hands me the binoculars.

We’re nestled behind a clump of short palms and dense scrub away from camp and the treehouse.

I’ve got on the darkest clothing available to me: a pair of dark pants, my dark trainers, and another one of Emily’s shirts, this one a dark green, long-sleeve shirt with the name of her high school in yellow on it, so I’m wearing it inside out.

The name still shows, but not as prominently.

It’s well-worn and loved and I almost didn’t put it on, but Easton handed it to me.

He’s wearing a black crew T-shirt, a dark warmup jacket, and dark swim shorts.

They were the most similar outfits we could find to the three dead guys.

I’m wearing two sports bras to make me look as much like a man as possible.

And I don’t care about what we had to do to my hair. It’s hair; it will grow back.

I adjust the binoculars to see. There’s something going on in the aft. “They’re launching the tender.”

“I think so. We can take off running now or?—”

“I’m done hiding.”

“Same,” Easton growls.

“We take their tender,” I blurt out. “They won’t know it’s us coming in. They’ll be looking for their crew.

“Fuck, Haley. That’s?—”

“No more dangerous than trying to grab a rope ladder from a WaveRunner. What’s the alternative? Leave the guys on board the pirate ship? No. Not happening. Stay here and wait? Wait to be slaughtered?”

“No. But I could go without?—”

“I said I’m done hiding, Easton, and I mean it.”

“True, same. But I don’t like bringing you on board their ship.”

My fingers ache. I want to snap off. I want to go now. I’m like one of those poor racehorses shaking their heads behind the gates. Holding while they get into their tender makes me want to charge into the water. I glance at Easton. “How can you be so calm?”

“How were you calm when you had the primary who drank all the champagne in the first two nights and then made one of your stews quit? And you had a captain who didn’t back you up.

But you stood up to her and got her to be almost a decent human being.

You did that by keeping your cool. This is no different than a billionaire diva or a world-class swimming meet. ”

“Other than it’s our lives.”

“We risk our lives every day by getting out of bed. But today we risk our lives for our family.”

“You’re amazing,” I say.

“No, you are amazing. I’m just better with you.” He cocks his head to the boat.

The tender’s away. He hands me the binoculars again. I lift the binoculars; the lazy crew member is back on duty. There’s three men in the tender. I’m just hoping they don’t leave anyone there to guard it.

“You pilot the boat,” he says. “I’ll hold the gun.”

“Right.” I can do it. Zane’s been teaching me how to drive our tender. And theirs, from the look of it, is a hell of a lot smaller. I don’t want to hold the gun. Though Calvin’s shown me how to do that in the last few months too.

I glance back at camp. We took Penny out behind the map tree, off to the side, and gave her a dose of her anti-anxiety tablets in a large fish, then tucked her out of the way behind the treehouse. I hate that we had to drug her, but having her bark when we leave isn’t going to help her or us.

The tender bounces onto the shore. They take it way too far.

I can only imagine what Charlie would have done last season if one of his guys had driven the tender all the way onto the sand.

They jump out, and one of them tosses the rope around the big rock, like he’s been here before.

Another one lights a cigarette. The first guy smacks it out of his hand and points to the blind up to camp.

The other one is already on his way. He scans up and down the beach but doesn’t glance as far as us. Instead, he turns to the fish weir. He picks up a fish and tosses it back into the ocean. Then he kicks down three of the posts, the same way Calvin does when we have too large a stockpile of fish.

My heart pounds with each step the guy takes toward the camp. He vanishes behind the blind.

We wait a good ten minutes until we’re sure they’re far enough into the jungle to not hear us on the beach. “Ready?” I whisper.

We’re silently flying down the beach. It’s so different from the run we did on our island festival day. Or the times when we’re goofing around challenging each other.

I jump in and go to the outboard. Zane’s voice echoes in my head.

I’m looking for the kill switch lanyard.

But of course, there isn’t one. Don’t fall out, then, Haley .

I go to turn the fuel valve to the “on” position, but it’s already on, and since they just shut it off, there’s no need to prime it.

Easton tosses the rope in and gives us a good shove. He points the boat in the right direction before rolling into the tender. “Go.” He’s already getting the gun out of the pack.

The gear shift is in neutral, and I start the engine, one hand in place on the motor to steady it.

I pull the cord sharply, and the engine sputters and coughs but turns over, roaring to life.

A quick switch to the run position and we’re off.

I’m sitting as low as I can. No need for my head to be a target.

It’s just another day, and it’s a good one to live. I’m going to get my guys.

A handheld radio in the bottom of the raft squawks.

Easton and I both stare at it. It’s rapid-fire French.

“It’s the ship, I think. They’re asking if the tender is returning. My French isn’t as good as Dante’s,” Easton says. It goes off again. Easton picks it up with one hand, the gun in his other hand. We’re getting closer to the ship, but there’s no one on deck.

“The jungle is thick. I always had problems with my radio too far into town. The away team might not be able to hear it,” I say into the wind.

“ Oui ,” Easton says into the radio.

Another long string of French comes through, but we’re almost to the aft of their ship where they launched it from.

Easton throws me a look when I don’t pull alongside the rope ladder like we talked about for the WaveRunner.

Instead, I take the tender around the back where they launched from.

I’m doing my best to not lose my nerve. Doing this is crazy.

But also, not doing this will cause them to know it’s not their guys.

This way, they’ll be one guy at most. Hopefully the lazy one, who will not have his gun strapped to his chest.

I slow the throttle and do the best I can to get close to the ship. I keep my head down. Easton turns the radio off and tucks it in his belt. He’s got the gun under the flap of his jacket.

My throat closes up. There’s a crew member on the back of the boat.

But of course there would be. He’s not even looking at us but at the side of the tender, his hands extended, waiting to grab the rope.

I push it with my dark trainer. And Easton gets the hint.

He picks it up and tosses it to the guy.

The guard ties us up without glancing into the tender.

Easton climbs out of the boat as I turn the tender off. I need to play the part—leaving the engine on would be a dead giveaway.

Easton’s after him. He cocks the gun and has it up when he stands from tying the tender. “Quiet.”

“No, no kill me.” His English is different than the others, less of a French accent and more a British one. “I’m...” He’s clearly searching for a word. This is the lazy guard. “They take me...”

“Are you a prisoner?”

“Yes, mga lalaki .” He shakes his head. “ Les hommes .”

“Like the men?”

“Men, yes. Come.” He reaches out and pushes the barrel of Easton’s gun down. He steps to the port side.

Easton and I lock eyes.

“It seems reasonable. He’s not really trying to guard anything,” I say.

We follow him. Easton has his gun tucked under his jacket. And the man turns and stares at the gun. Then he points to the island. “ Fant?me .”

“Ghosts?” Easton says.

“ Oui , no good.”

I shiver. They know about the massacre on the other side of the island. “Are you taking us to our friends?” I ask.

“ Oui, ” he says. But then I get the feeling he might agree to anything with a gun pointed at him. I don’t blame the guy. He’s not that old, maybe twenty.

He stops at a hatch in the deck. There’s no one around. But then a ship like this... needs what—maybe seven to ten to run it? Three are dead, another three are on the island. There’s whomever radioed earlier.

The guy flips the latch and pulls the hatch open. It’s pitch-black down there.

“If you’re going to piss on us again, you could try and have a little better aim. You missed me last time, mate,” Zane says.

“Zane,” Easton calls out.

It’s killing me to not speak, but we both decided the longer we can hide that I’m a woman, the better.

“Easton?”

“Get up here,” Easton says.

Zane’s up first, followed by Calvin. He takes a glance at me but then lunges for our captive helper.

“No, Green. He’s helping us.” Easton blocks Calvin from hitting the guard.

Sam and Dante are up the ladder now too.

“What’s the plan?” Sam asks me, and I want to laugh.

I want to say this is the plan, but I counter with, “Take over the boat?”

“Love it, Sugar.”

Our captive friend gawks between Sam and me, then he cocks his head at me, squinting. It’s dark, but I’m pulling off my best teenage boy voice.

“Let’s go, Hal,” Calvin says, but he’s glaring at Easton like he wants to smash him for bringing me.

Dante asks the captive something in rapid French.

“He’s been on board for two years. They took him from his village.

He learned French from a visiting nun. And he made the mistake of speaking it to one of the other pirates.

They threatened to kill his family if he didn’t go with them.

He says we should kill the rest of them.

Oh, and the captain isn’t on the bridge.

He’s drunk in his cabin. They’re expecting a big payday tomorrow when they deliver us. ”

“Deliver us where?” Sam asks.

Dante relays the question. “He doesn’t know, only they said they would let him go after they get paid, but they’ve said that before.”

“Big, lots time,” the captive says.

“Let’s get this captain while he’s drunk.” Calvin moves from the hatch to the cockpit.

“Belay that, Green.” Sam’s pointing to the horizon. “I think we’ve found who’s giving the payday.”

“Holy shit,” Zane says. “That’s got to be 120 meters.”

“And a good 100 million more expensive than the Rock Candy,” Sam adds. “A Lürssen by the looks of the upper decks.” It’s one of the most expensive luxury yachts, and it’s coming right at us.

“In pirate-infested waters?” I ask in my best alto voice. But I know the answer. It’s who paid the pirates to capture us. “It could be your dad.” I turn to Easton.

“My dad has a code word. He would have given it to anyone who was trying to help us. And he wouldn’t have hired this lot.

No. If he knew we were here, he would have hired English-speaking mercenaries with high-tech equipment,” Easton says, crossing his arms over his chest. “We could make a run for it.”

Dante shakes his head. “That, my friends, looks like an organized crime yacht if I’ve ever fucking seen one. And I’ve seen plenty—when I was working for the Russian mob.”