by Mark Mosley
January 10th was the day before the pickup. Sam and I left around dusk to complete my personal mission of getting Xavier and Adam—and maybe even Darryl and John who, according to Xavier, were helping him.
Jungle leaves and limbs reached out and brushed my shoulders as we trudged once again to Masonville. The path was narrow, so Sam walked behind me. She asked, “What will you do when you get home?”
“Find my brother. Let him know I’m not dead. You?”
“Same. And I want to tell the world about this place. The public deserves to know.”
I slapped my sweaty skin in vain as gnats flitted around and bothered the hell out of me. “I don’t think the public will care. As long as the convicts aren’t bothering them, why would they?”
“To have family members secretly taken, convicts or not, is wrong. If the convicts had absolutely nobody to care for them, then maybe. But to fake deaths in order to pull this off . . .”
I remembered what the Suits told me, Deonte, and Mitch about our sentence to the island. Their smug faces were engraved in my memory. Maybe a part of me wanted to get back for revenge. But what would revenge look like? All I knew was that getting off the island was step one.
Sam shot her arm out and pulled me to a stop.
“What—”
“Shhhh,” she hissed, holding my wrist. She looked behind us, eyes piercing through the jungle leaves in the semi-dark. We stood for several seconds, not moving a muscle. Finally, Sam said, “I thought I heard…something.”
“A cat? I’ve been terrified of running into one.”
“If I knew I wouldn’t be trying to look, now would I?” It was another minute until Sam was satisfied she was hearing things. “Probably a bird or rat or something stupid.” She didn’t sound convinced.
After we walked a bit longer, I asked, “Do you know why you were sent here?”
“Not a clue. You?”
I shook my head, still ignorant to why, or who even made that call. I pictured the room where the sentence took place, wondering again who was behind the two-way mirror lining the wall. Somebody that intimidated the other Suits. Perhaps the one that decided to send me here.
We reached Masonville, the smell of barbeque in the air. The Masonites were huddled around a huge fire, pulling meat off a carcass that dangled above the flames. Hiding in the brush, we watched as Zigor got everyone’s attention and barked orders to prepare for the pickup tomorrow.
“Man, I hope I’m not here when he’s boss,” I whispered.
“You won’t need to worry about him,” Sam said.
“You think we’ll get off the island, then?”
“We either escape, or we don’t and you’re dead. No matter what, you won’t have to worry about Zigor.”
“That’s not comforting.”
She waved her hand dismissively.
As the men followed Zigor’s orders, I wondered if all the Masonites knew what was going on. Was I seriously the only guy that had no clue? They must’ve looked at me—the little teenager—like a child unaware that Santa isn’t real.
Did they know Mason left the island? I regretted not asking Smiley more questions.
We snuck around the edge of camp. If we were spotted, we’d be dead. The idea of Sam losing her life because of me hardened my resolve for a successful trip. And if I failed to get Xavier out of the pit, he’d be executed by Mason…no pressure. Or was Xavier already dead?
“Alright, idiot,” Sam whispered. “What’s your bright idea at this point? What the hell you wanna do?”
I assumed it’d take longer to get Xavier out of the hole than talk to Adam. “Find Adam first, then get Xavier, Darryl, and John.”
But before we headed towards the waterfall and Adam’s area, a twig snapped behind us. Sam fell forward, crashing into the brush. I turned and saw Smiley standing above her, pointing a spear at her throat. My blood boiled. I’d never wanted to hurt someone so badly in my life.
“Well, howdy again.” He looked down at Sam. “I don’t believe I’ve met you, young miss.”
Since Masonites weren’t charging towards us, I figured we were far enough from camp that nobody had seen us yet.
“Looks like Cammie was right.” Sam’s voice was cold. She was pissed at me. “Should’ve killed ‘em.”
“Maybe,” Smiley said. He addressed me. “What you tol’ me got me thinkin’ about how I could move up the ladder. So I thought: what if I brung in the feller that escaped? I hanged out in them woods after you let me go.”
“We could’ve killed you. I even buried your friend.”
Smiley giggled. “Welp, that’s your stupidity, ain’t it? I waited there, and then who do I see come? Not on’y the guy that got away, but also a lady! I’ll be darned if I just ain’t the luckiest fella on the island! I followed ya here—easier than knocking ya out and draggin’ ya. If I bring the two of ya to Mason and Miguel, they’ll be excited as a kid in a candy store!”
“You swore you’d leave us be,” I said.
“It’s a cutthroat world, sonny. And your throat just got cut cuz you—”
I lurched at him, pushing Smiley’s spear aside with my right hand, then tackling him off Sam. I rolled on the ground with Smiley, then jumping off him, I yelled to Sam, “Split up!”
She headed back from where we’d come.
Picking up the spear, a monster within me awakened. I slammed it into Smiley’s leg, feeling the sharpened wood puncture skin and muscle. He screamed and I let go of the spear, leaving it sticking from his leg like a knife in a roast. I took off towards the waterfall.
Anticipating being chased by dozens of felons, I abandoned the path for a shortcut through the jungle, jumping over fallen bamboo and brush. The sound of water slamming from great heights got louder, and I finally broke through the jungle into the openness of the picturesque waterfall, the dimming sunlight reflecting in the small swimming pool at the bottom of the falls.
Adam was nowhere to be seen. I dashed past the pond and found him in a clearing, sitting on a log. I rushed to him and grabbed his elbow to pull him to his feet. “Adam, we gotta get out of here. There’s a boat we’re stealing to get away.”
“Woah, woah, woah.” His usual surfer-boy voice and inflection drew out his words. “Slow down, brother. Let’s breathe and talk about this.”
“No time.” I dragged him along. “We need to go. Smiley’s gonna get me killed.”
“Now c’mon, brother, let’s take it easy.”
I kept moving.
“Brother, you need to stop.”
I didn’t.
“Brother, you need to stop.”
I didn’t.
Then, in a tone and accent completely devoid of its usual lightheartedness and easy-come-easy-go vibe, Adam became stern. “Jhalon, I said to stop.” He jerked his elbow free from my grasp, pulled a knife from his baggy shorts, and put the blade against my jugular.
Chapter 26
My heart fell to my stomach. “Adam, what are you doing?”
He looked me right in the eye. “Sorry…brother. But it’s time to end this charade. You’re not goin’ anywhere except maybe the hole. Mason can decide what to do with ya before we leave.”
We?
“What—”
“Oh gosh, Jhalon. Does my sudden lack of an idiot accent upset you? Want me to go back to Cali talk?” His malicious tone was palpable. “Bummer, dude. This is a totally radical change,” he mocked. “Sorry. That’s not really me.”
“You were acting? The whole time?”
“You’d be amazed what you can learn when people think you’re a pothead with his head in the clouds.” He kept steady pressure on the knife blade to my skin.
I could feel his strength through the way he held himself. If my outlook and knowledge of the island was a balloon, Adam just popped it. With a freaking torpedo. “Does Mason know?” I asked.
Adam laughed. “That blowhard has his head so far up his own ass that he wouldn’t notice a shark in six inches of
water.”
“What’s your angle?” I whispered—talking made my neck scrape against the blade.
He observed me like I was an idiot. “My angle is to get out of here. Isn’t everyone’s angle the same on this shithole?”
Sweat fell from my brow into my eyes. “How do I play into this then? How’s this get you out of here?”
“Everything costs something.” He sighed. “Your life for my freedom. Mason put a bounty on you and Danny’s head. Miguel won’t free Mason if there’s a chance this location is compromised. Mason’s freaking out. You’re responsible. Bring you in, and the reward is a trip on the bird of freedom. Or boat. Whatever.”
“You’ll let them kill me for freedom?”
“Sweet freedom, Jhalon. That’s all that matters.”
“I’m curious”—buy time, buy time—“you weren’t smoking weed while here? You rolled one when I first met you.”
“I never said I don’t have an occasional break from reality. But I’m not a pothead. I like to have my wits about me.” He pushed slightly on the knife, nudging me backward and in the direction of the pit. “Now, what we’re gonna do is head to the hole. You join Xavier, I’ll go look for your buddy.”
Right on cue, I spotted Xavier creeping up behind Adam. I smiled.
“What the hell you grinning at?”
“There’s a bear behind you.”
“There are no bears on this island. If you think I’m dumb enough to turn around and take this knife from your neck, you’ll need to do better than that.”
“This bear goes by the name of Xavier. He kinda looks like somebody messed with his cub.”
The confidence and swagger drained from Adam’s face.
Xavier spoke his gloriously baritone voice. “Put the knife down, Adam.”
Adam lowered his head in dejection but kept the knife on me. “X, stay out of this.”
“I can’t do that.”
Adam pulled me into him and turned me so that we both faced Xavier. He held me like a hostage, the knife still to my throat. “X, don’t make me do something crazy.”
“The crazy thing would be to not drop the knife.” A thick branch dangled from Xavier’s hand, like King Kong holding a giant sequoia.
“Listen to him, Adam,” I pleaded. “This doesn’t have to get bloody.”
“X, turning this kid over is my ticket out of here. Miguel’s giving me that. And more.” He sounded like a child begging to keep a pet.
“Not true,” I played it nice. “Come with us. It’s not too late. You don’t even know if Mason will hold up his deal. But I came back for you, Adam. This island makes people do crazy things. You don’t even have to give up the knife. Just take it away from my neck.”
Then something Adam said suddenly stood out. “What more?” I asked. “What’s he giving you besides freedom?”
He didn’t budge. “Did you know my sister was murdered? Shoved in a trash bin just off the beach, bent at all angles and shoved in and left to bleed.”
“I’m sorry, Adam.”
His voice shook. “Four guys did it. Only two went on trial. Neither were convicted—the judges were bought off.” He wiped his nose with the back of the hand holding my collar. “I killed the two on the steps of the courthouse when they walked out.” He sniffled. “Miguel is well-connected. He can get me the other two guys. And the judge. Miguel’s my way to all of them.”
Needless to say, that was way darker than I’d imagined for Adam. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But Miguel isn’t the only way to get to the others.”
“He is. And you know it. I don’t have any other choices. The law failed.”
Xavier leapt into action, charging with his arm raised behind him, ready to deliver a blow. Adam protected himself, slicing me from my shoulder blade to the small of my back as he pushed me away. It was like lava had been poured on my back. I screamed and fell to the ground. Xavier jumped over me, yelling at me to run. I got to my hands and knees and slowly stood. Running was torture, so I jogged through the jungle, weaving between trees and ducking under vines as fast as my wounded body could handle. The pain made it hard to think, but I stumbled to a familiar area, but I couldn’t pinpoint why I recognized it. Half of my survival instinct told me to stop, but the other half insisted I fly like a bat out of hell.
Then I made the connection: this was where Darryl and John set a trap.
It was too late. The snap! ricocheted through the trees, scaring off a dozen birds that flew away in protest of the noise. A net shot up from the ground, leaves and branches falling away as the net ripped me in the air like a puppet at the fingers of its puppeteer.
The net finally stopped moving, leaving me suspended ten feet above the trampled path.
Chapter 27
As I’m sure you remember, I was stuck, there was an explosion, Adam came out of the brush and fell down and died, and I just sat waiting for help like a true hero.
Pain shot all across my back. I wasn’t sure how deep Adam had sliced me, but it probably wasn’t pretty. Infection could be a problem. Wincing, I put my fingers to my back and pulled them away, warm and slick.
Then Sam ran out of the brush. Her confused look told me she had no clue I was there. She actually laughed at me.
“Please get me down.” I probably sounded like a pathetic idiot.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Just hanging out. Thinkin’ about takin’ a nap.” Talking made me tired. How much blood had I lost?
“Always a smartass.”
“What the hell you think I’m doin’?”
She saw Adam dead on the ground. “You do this?”
“Xavier.”
Sam studied the trap. “Where’s your knife?”
I pointed to the ground. She retrieved it and climbed the tree like a freakin’ monkey. I added another point to her awesome scale. “Get ready to land. It’s not gonna feel good,” she warned.
“Not much I can do about it.”
She hacked at the rope, which finally thinned enough to snap, dropping me like . . . well, like a net holding a 190-pound teenager. Sam whisper-yelled at me to get up and follow her, but it was like I was caught in a heavy spider web. I escaped, but my wound had drained my energy. I tried to keep up as she swerved around trees like a snake through the brush. We headed east, Middle Finger Mountain looming larger and larger.
Then we ran into a wall. Literally. Sam stepped to the mountain face, then followed it to the right, leading me down a small rocky path that hugged the base of the mountain. She reached to the right and shuffled through leaves and debris like a mad woman going through her purse. She pulled out a board made with four thick bamboo stalks tied together and leaned it against the mountain. “Over here.”
“You want me to climb to that ledge of the cliff by using this flimsy board that appears to have been made by a second-grader out of paper towel rolls?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s it go? And how’d you know about it? And—”
“Holy crap, just climb the thing, yeah?”
I reached the bottom of the inclining bridge, and gingerly went over. Sam followed. When across, she pulled the bridge up to hide our entry. There was a small cave with a pile of coconuts in the corner—some unopened, and others plugged to hold water. The cave was concealed well enough that if Mason’s men scoured the island, they’d still never see us.
“I say we hang out for a bit until things die down,” she suggested.
“Die down?”
“Well, when you decided to abandon me—”
“—Split up.”
“Whatever.” She situated herself in a little groove in the cave as if settling in for the night. “When we split, Smiley followed me. I lost him but couldn’t find you. Then I bumped into Xavier and told him what was goin’ on. He said two guys helped get him out of the pit.”
“Darryl and John?”
“Yeah. Anyway, he went to the waterfall. Told me to create a diversion if he didn’t c
ome back in five minutes.”
“Boom goes the dynamite?”
In the heavy darkness, I could barely see her smile. “Damn right.”
“How’d you know about this place?”
She crawled to the coconuts and grabbed two, handing one to me and taking a large swig from the other. She wiped her mouth and said, “The Solos went out like ninjas. We made this hideaway in case we ever got spotted and needed a place to crash.”
“Impressive.” I told her about the run-in with Adam.
Sam shook her head. “You’re pretty stupid, Jhalon. You know that? And you suck at reading people.”
“Apparently. Any pillows and sheets? If it’s less than an 800 thread-count you can go to hell.”
Sam laughed. “I have what the island offers—leaves. You’re welcome. But I don’t think we should stay the night here. I say we take an hour or two and then slip out.”
I dropped to all fours as I prepared to lay down, grunting in pain. “Don’t try any funny business.”
She huffed. “Don’t worry about that. You look like crap.”
“That’s how I feel, too. Consistency is a good thing, right?”
Concern flashed across her face. “Is that blood?” She pointed to the ground. “Roll over to your side.” After I did, her response was immediate. “This is bad, Jhalon. We need to get back to camp.”
I envisioned movie scenes where guys have open wounds burned shut with hot irons. I prayed that was not in my future. But all I said was, “Sounds like a plan.”
“A good plan?”
“I’d rather not say—based on how good I am at judging things, it’s best I keep my mouth shut.”
I fell asleep within five minutes. Sam woke me in the night and told me it was time to go. We made slow progress because of the dark and because of me—my back was killing me. Literally. She guided me through the jungle, oftentimes with me leaning my entire weight on her. At some points I insisted on taking a break, but she only allowed it twice. She was in a hurry, which suggested my back was bad.