“This is crazy,” I said. “Crazy. She’s crazy.”
“Off her nut,” Jason agreed.
“Well, her husband just dropped dead. And she’s trapped on this island with a bunch of teenagers she’s responsible for…” Caleb trailed off.
“Yeah,” I said. “She’s really being responsible, asking you guys to bury a dead body.” Imogen made a funny choking noise, and I put my hand on her shoulder and blew out a long, slow breath. “Imogen? You okay?”
She nodded. “I will be. Just…” She looked at Caleb. “Just give me a minute. I thought we were about to be killed. Seriously. We thought you guys had killed Tara and were burying her body.”
Jason pulled back the top of the sleeping bag and shone the flashlight beam on what was unmistakably Warren’s face. His very dead face. “See? Not Tara.”
Imogen whimpered again and covered her eyes.
“Since you’re here, you might as well lend a hand,” Caleb said. “Burying a body isn’t as easy as you might think.”
TWENTY
Alice
The grave they’d dug was barely deep enough to fit the body, but the ground out here was hard and full of roots, and Jason’s and Caleb’s hands were a mess of blisters. Imogen and I shoveled the loose dirt on top of the sleeping bag until it was hidden.
“Aren’t graves supposed to be, like, six feet deep?” I asked.
Caleb shrugged. “It’s only until Saturday. Then we’ll have to dig him back up so Claire can take his body home for a proper funeral.”
“If no animals have a go at him first,” Jason said.
“There are animals?” I looked around. “Like what? Bears?”
Caleb looked at me pityingly. “You’re such a city kid. There’re no bears here, Alice. But there are plenty of scavengers. Rats, for one. And mice.”
“Mice eat people?” Imogen looked ill.
“Mice eat whatever they can find,” Caleb said.
“Racoons too,” Jason said. “And eagles.”
We studied the thin layer of dirt covering what used to be Warren. “Maybe we should put some sticks or rocks or something on top,” I said. “To protect him, you know?”
“Bit late,” Jason said grimly.
No one said anything, because there was pretty much nothing you could say to that. We all stood there staring at each other, and then Imogen’s hand slipped into mine. “I think it’s a good idea,” she said. “And maybe—don’t make fun of this, you guys—maybe we should say something. Like, because this is sort of a funeral, isn’t it? And it feels really wrong just leaving him here. In the woods.”
“Sure,” Caleb said. “It’s a good idea, Imogen. A really good idea.” His voice was gentle—kind—and if I hadn’t still suspected he knew something about Tara’s disappearance, I would’ve liked him for it.
We picked up armfuls of dead branches and laid them, crisscrossed, on top of the burial mound.
“Um, who wants to go first?” Imogen said. “Should we each say something?”
I made a face. It was the last thing I felt like doing. But for Imogen…“I’ll start,” I said. I picked up a branch and added it to the mound. “So, thanks for trying to help us by running this camp. My mom always said you were a good guy, and she’ll be really sad to hear about what happened.” I got a lump in my throat at the thought of my mother and rushed on before I could start to cry. “And, uh, I know it wasn’t because of anything I did to the food, but I’m really sorry you got sick. And, well, died.”
“That’s it?” Imogen said.
I nodded. “Sorry. Not good at this kind of thing.”
“This burying-bodies-in-the-woods-at-night thing?” Jason gave a low laugh, but he sounded depressed. “No kidding.”
“You want to go next?” Imogen asked, handing him a stick.
Jason laid it where Warren’s feet would be. “Sorry, man. You were a decent guy, and you didn’t deserve to die like this.”
Caleb cleared his throat and placed a slender branch across the pile. “I don’t know what you believed in, but I hope you’re somewhere good now. I’m sorry we had to do this tonight. Claire’s pretty broken up, but she’s going to make sure you get a proper funeral back in the city. And, uh, thanks for believing me about my stepdad and trusting me to come here.” His voice wobbled a bit on that last part.
Imogen gave his arm an awkward pat. Then she pushed a large rock toward the grave, positioning it like a headstone, and she knelt beside it. “I didn’t know you well, Warren, but I know you were kind. On the Zodiac, when I was puking, you didn’t single me out or embarrass me in front of the others, but you whispered to me to hang in there, and I could tell that under all the tough-guy stuff, you actually cared.” She paused for a moment and glanced up at me. “We’re here burying you tonight at Claire’s request, and I want you to know that we’ll take care of her until we get out of here. All of us, you and Tara included.” She wiped her eyes and stood up. “There. That’s it.”
We walked back through the woods together in silence. As stupid as it might sound, I was feeling a strange bond with the three of them. Like we’d been through something that no one else would ever understand.
But it wasn’t over yet. It was only Wednesday, and unless there was a miracle, we were all stuck here—trapped here—until the Zodiac came to pick us up on Saturday morning.
Don’t let your guard down, I told myself. Don’t trust anyone. Though I did trust Imogen. I couldn’t help it. And I wanted to trust Caleb and Jason…but I wasn’t sure I could. Not with that note Caleb had written still unexplained.
“Look,” Imogen said, pointing through the trees ahead of us. “We made it. There’s the campfire.” She put her arm around my shoulders.
I squinted through the trees at the ring of empty log seats around the dying fire, and I shivered.
It wasn’t over yet.
THURSDAY
TWENTY-ONE
Caleb
When I woke up the morning after burying Warren, I could hardly move. Apparently I did not have a future as a gravedigger, which was a relief. A short cold shower woke me up but did nothing to unkink the knots in my arms and shoulders or get rid of the dread that clung to me like skunk spray. I hadn’t wanted to come to the island in the first place, but I could never have imagined how totally insane this week would turn out to be. Insane and, if I was being honest, terrifying.
I decided to check on Rahim and Nick, make sure Rahim had survived the night. My stomach lurched when I considered that we might have another body to bury. I left Jason sleeping—Chad was AWOL, but that was nothing new—and headed over to the staff cabin.
Nick answered the door. The circles under his bloodshot eyes were a deep purple, and his skin was blotchy. I wondered if he had slept at all.
“How’s Rahim?” I asked, glancing at the open door of one of the bedrooms. A motionless body lay on the bed. For a moment I was afraid he might be dead, but then I saw a slight movement and heard a low moan.
“Not so good,” Nick said. “He started vomiting early this morning. I’m trying to get him to drink, but he’s getting dehydrated. He needs IV fluids. And insulin, obviously. We have to get him some help. Soon. Otherwise…”
“I know,” I said. “I’ll stay with him so you can have a break. Is Claire sleeping?” The door to the other bedroom was closed. I understood why she’d bailed on us the night before, but I guess I’d hoped she’d be of some help today. Even if all she did was sit with Rahim. Or lead us in a sing-along.
“She went out when the sun came up,” Nick said. “Said she was going to the woods to meditate or something. She’s a total mess. I could hear her crying and talking to herself all night. Too bad Mandy’s meds are missing. Claire could really use some.”
“So could Mandy,” I said. “Oh, Alice and Imogen are hooking up, I think. Also, Jason and I buried Warren in the woods last night. FYI.”
Nick’s eyebrows shot up. “You what?”
“Claire asked us to bu
ry him. He was in her bed, and she was panicked about him, uh, decomposing.”
“Jesus.” He thought for a moment. “I’ve been here in the staff cabin the whole time. You guys were in Claire’s room last night, fetching Warren’s body? While I was in here with Rahim?”
“Yeah. I was surprised you didn’t hear us, actually.”
He shrugged. “I’ve been dozing on and off. Trying to stay awake, but…”
I nodded. “Alice and Imogen followed us into the woods and showed up in the middle of it all. They freaked out. Thought we had murdered Tara and were burying her body. We had to show them it was Warren. We ended up having this, uh, ceremony. Like a funeral, almost. It seemed wrong to just toss him in a hole, cover him up and walk away.”
“That is all kinds of messed up,” Nick said slowly. “Missing girls and impromptu funerals weren’t on that glossy brochure my parents showed me.” He smiled weakly. “Are you sure you don’t mind staying with Rahim? I could use a shower, even a cold one, and some food.”
I nodded. “We’ll be fine. Take your time.”
He stepped back into Rahim’s room, leaned over him and said, “I’m going to grab a shower and get something to eat. Caleb’s here. You won’t be alone. I promise. You’re gonna be okay.” He reached out and patted Rahim’s shoulder gently. When he walked past me on his way out, I thought I saw tears in his eyes. “I’ll be back soon,” he said. “Try and get him to drink something.”
“I will,” I said. “Don’t worry.”
Nick shut the door quietly, and I was left alone with Rahim. I looked around the cabin. There was a tiny kitchen area—just a bar fridge and a hot plate next to a small sink. A glass of water sat on the counter next to the sink, so I took it into the bedroom and helped Rahim sit up to drink it. He took two sips and then waved the glass away.
“No more,” he whispered, and I helped him lie down again. His skin was pasty and mottled, and he was almost panting for breath. After a while he seemed to fall asleep. I hoped he hadn’t slipped into a coma. I had no idea how to tell the difference, other than to try to wake him—and that seemed unkind. I felt for his pulse. His heart was racing.
I sat by the bed in a hard chair, watching Rahim breathe, but eventually I got restless and pulled out my sketchbook. It felt wrong to draw someone who was that out of it, so I went back into the main room and did a couple of sketches of what was on the table—a dirty coffee cup with lip gloss on the rim, a crumpled piece of paper towel and a small red plate with crumbs on it. But I couldn’t even get the plate right. It looked like a melted Frisbee. I got up and wandered around the cabin, tried unsuccessfully to find a comfortable position on the lumpy brown couch and then stood up again and opened the door to Claire’s room. I wasn’t sure why. Boredom. Curiosity.
An unmade double bed took up most of the floor space, and the room smelled of vomit and lilacs, as if Claire had spritzed the room with perfume to mask the stench of Warren’s death. A small bookcase next to the bed held a row of books, some binoculars, a few shells, a collection of bird skulls, a couple of feathers and an ugly pottery candlestick. I ran my fingers along the spines. The Power of Now, Helping Teens Handle Tough Experiences, The Happiness Project, The Big Book of Icebreakers, Awaken the Giant Within, Reclaiming Youth at Risk. Next to Shouting at the Sky: Troubled Teens and the Promise of the Wild was a bright-yellow book called You Are a Badass: How to Stop Doubting Your Greatness and Start Living an Awesome Life.
I felt kind of stalker-ish being in Claire’s bedroom, but I needed to distract myself while I waited for Nick, so I pulled You Are a Badass from the shelf. I could see something in the gap between the books. Something that made me drop the book as if it were on fire. I could read about living an awesome life later.
Right now I had to figure out a way to pick up an empty prescription bottle without smudging whatever fingerprints were on it. Of course, Mandy’s would be there…and at least one of the counselors’. Still, probably better not to add my own to the mix.
I grabbed a piece of Kleenex from a box on top of the shelf, picked up the empty pill bottle by its lid and read the label. Mandy Ostrofer. Xanax (Alprazolam) 1 mg. 30 tabs. I looked around for something to put it in. I found a ziplock bag in a drawer in the tiny kitchen. There was no way to know how many pills had been in the bottle when Mandy came to the island, and I had no evidence that the pills had been used for anything criminal, but it was still evidence. I just didn’t know of what. Could Tara have broken into the locked cabinet and taken an overdose once she was out on the water? It seemed unlikely, but it was possible.
I sat on the couch until Nick came back, his hair still wet from the shower. When I showed him my discovery, he shrugged. “Maybe Claire took them. But if so, they didn’t work—she was freaking out last night.”
“But why hide the bottle?” I asked. “And how come all the pills are gone?”
“No idea. You don’t think Claire would off herself, do you? Should we go look?”
Before I could answer, Rahim started to cough and then choke. Nick ran to his side and helped him sit up and vomit into a bucket by the bed. “Go look for Claire,” he said, waving me away. “Rahim doesn’t need both of us.”
I nodded and left the cabin, making my way down to the beach, the pill container in my hoodie pocket. I needed to think, to sort things through in my mind before I told everybody else what I had found. If Claire had killed herself, five minutes wouldn’t matter one way or the other.
I was about to climb down the path onto the beach when I saw Chad and Claire. They were sitting on a log together, and Chad had his arm around her shoulders. At least I wouldn’t have to search the island for her body. As I watched, he pulled her closer to him and ran his hand up her thigh. She leaned into him, and his hand moved higher. Then she stiffened and pushed him away. I couldn’t hear much of what she said, just the occasional word—young, crazy, stop—but whatever she said made Chad put his hands up in a gesture of surrender.
Claire stood up, moving away from him and scrambling up the embankment to the path. I slipped into the shadows, and she ran past me, toward the staff cabin. Chad lit a joint, inhaled and slid down so his back was against the log. Then he exhaled loudly and said, “Chicks!” before he closed his eyes and appeared to doze off. What a prince.
TWENTY-TWO
Caleb
I left the beach and found everyone else in the mess hall, more or less awake and finishing breakfast. After I ate some French toast (courtesy of Jason and Mandy), I filled them in on Rahim’s condition and the scene on the beach.
“Chad was with her?” Mandy said. “She’s, like, old.” The look of befuddlement on her face would have been funny under other circumstances. Right now it was just really sad.
“She’s everything Chad wants,” Alice said. “Single and female.”
Mandy looked confused. “But I’m single and female. And a lot hotter than she is. I don’t get it.”
Alice sighed. “Forget it. He’s a jerk.”
“And there’s something else,” I said, pulling the pill bottle in its plastic bag out of my pocket and holding it up. “I found this in Claire’s room, behind some books.”
That got Mandy’s attention. She screeched, “Those are mine!” and lunged for the bottle.
I held it up where she couldn’t reach it. “It’s empty, Mandy. And it’s evidence.”
“Evidence of what?” Imogen said.
“Not sure,” I said. “But it’s definitely a clue.”
“Caleb’s right,” Alice said. “It is evidence. My mom’s always going on and on about the chain of evidence—who found it, where and when it was found, who secured it, who had access to it. If you mess up the chain of evidence, your case can get thrown out of court.”
I was surprised to hear Alice, of all people, supporting me. I gave her a grateful nod. She started to grin back but quickly broke eye contact and looked away.
“So the chain of evidence is important even if you don’t know what th
e crime is?” Imogen asked.
“Especially if you don’t know,” Alice replied. “Let’s see what we have so far. Does anyone have any paper? And a pen?”
No one moved. I sighed. So much for hiding my sketching habit. I pulled out my notebook, ripped a piece of paper out and handed it to her along with my pen. She stared at the paper as if she had never seen anything like it before.
“One empty Xanax bottle,” I said, putting it on the table. “Picked up with Kleenex and sealed in a plastic bag. Should be good for a few prints.”
Alice nodded and started writing.
“Missing insulin,” Jason said. “Missing radio part. Missing girl.”
“Let’s start with physical evidence,” Alice said. “The things we actually have. We’ll come back to the missing stuff later.”
“Kayak with a hole in it,” Imogen said. “Can’t exactly put that in a bag for safekeeping. Maybe we could find some rope and cordon it off?”
“Good idea,” Alice said. She hesitated and exchanged a long glance with Imogen, who was sitting beside her. Imogen nodded, and Alice let out a shaky sigh. “Okay. Uh, this may not be anything, but I saw blood on a log on the beach, near where the kayaks are kept. At least, I think it was blood. Plus, there was a footprint nearby.” She looked right at me. “The footprint was pretty big, Caleb.”
“So you think I killed Tara?” I tried to sound composed, but I could feel my heart speeding up. “Because of a footprint on the beach?”
“It crossed my mind,” Alice said.
“I’m not a…I hit one person, Alice. One. A person who was hurting my mom. That’s it.” My voice was low and even, but I wanted to yell at her, tell her not to judge me, tell her what an idiot she was being. If I was a violent, out-of-control guy, I’d have punched her by now. Lucky for her, I wasn’t.
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