Page 3 of Wayward

I follow him silently out to the beach, where he waves off everyone but his chief and me.

“Ingenious,” Z says, sitting on the big rock. He points to the fish weir.

“It fed us most days.”

Chapter 2

Murky Water

Sam

I’m bracing myself for the sound of a gunshot. Though it’s not logical. Out of all of us, Easton’s the one worth something . . . though it has crossed my mind more than once that sinking the Rock Candy would have taken out all the Rockwells.

Shadows flicker on the path. I’m about to let out a sigh of relief, but it’s Holloway. By himself. He nods to us men. I turn to Dante next to me. He’s glowering, his normal carefree smirk long vanished. There’s a vibration coming off him that says he could snap at any minute. I put my box down on the table. It doesn’t have much in it. My logbook and the book Haley made me. Penny’s things, her life vest and bowls. My Rock Candy jacket with my name on it mocks me from the top of the pile.

Zane comes down the ladder, his box overflowing.

“Here, let me help you,” I offer.

“Thanks, Cap.” He hands me down his box. It’s a mixture of clothes, tools both from the derelict and from the Rock Candy.His phone lies on top of his clothes. The five of us are gathered around the table.

“It’s a good table.” I tap the top of it and look over at Zane and Calvin.

“Thanks,” Zane says. His throat bobs with a visible swallow. “You need any help, Chef?”

“I’m done.” Dante takes his box from the counter. It’s packed with precision, things rolled up in banana leaves, the contents flush with the top of the box.

The guard watching Calvin steps up. “Holloway, you want me to start taking the boxes to the tender?”

Holloway glares. “Z said alone. No one goes on the beach until Z says so.” Holloway’s watching from the opening of the path.

“Copy,” the guard says and steps back. I don’t blame the guy. I don’t want to stand next to Calvin right now, either. There are waves of anger pouring from him too.

This isn’t a rescue mission. But why go to the trouble of getting our pets and letting us gather our things? Unless he wants to make Easton think that everything’s okay? Is this about the diamond? I glance at Zane. He’s got the same focused expression he had when he was working out the codes. We need some time alone. Even back in the room, I can’t talk.

Dante moves from the kitchen area over to the chairs next to the Christmas tree. It’s been gathering new shells and trinkets since the holidays. “Come here, Sassy.” Dante holds his hands out for Haley. She’s slow to move from the table. It’s weirdly quiet. Like the island knows we’re leaving one way or another. It’s going to be alone with the boars and goats. The chickens . . . I glance over at the pen, but someone has already let them out. They’ll be fine, filling in the gash we’ve left on the land.

Haley settles on the arm of the chair Dante’s sitting in, between Dante and Calvin. And I’m glad she’s there.

“You,” Dante says.

“Me?” Haley asks, pointing to her chest.

“It’s always you.” There’s a brief flicker of a smirk. “But no, him.” Dante points around Haley to one of the younger guards. “Did you work for?”

The guard cuts him off with a nod.

“You like my Lasagna al Forno. Harris, right?”

“I’m loyal to Mr. Z.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t,” Dante says.

It’s quiet. I’m not the only one trying to hear what’s going on on the beach. When I glance back to Dante, he and Calvin are involved in a nonverbal conversation. Dante touches his right shoulder and flicks his eyes to Harris. Harris has moved next to Holloway, distancing himself from Dante.

Yesterday, silently whispering together, we made one decision: to not ask about the other raft. To not let them hold that over us. I’m a patient man. More patient than the others here. At least, that’s how I used to think of myself. But not anymore. I want to know if they’re okay. Rocky, Emily, and the crew. But mostly Anders. I’ve come to think of him as a brother.

Fuck it, it’s been bothering me. “Did the other raft get picked up? My crew? Easton’s sister and dad.”