Isle Royale

by John Hamilton

  Sally bit her lower lip, her eyes haunted. “I hope my dad’s okay.”

  “We need to get out of here,” Ian said, his mind clear now as he remembered his father’s instructions. “Gotta get help.”

  “This way.”

  They scrambled away across the lawn, toward the line of woods beyond the compound. But when they’d gone no farther than a few yards from the house, Ian suddenly heard voices coming from behind the tool shed off to their right.

  “Wait!” Ian hissed, pulling back on Sally’s arm. “My mom’s still out here.” They crouched low, then slowly crept toward the shed.

  LeBeck set his Tommy gun against the wall of the toolshed and turned toward Collene. He moved close to her, desperate with desire. Collene was noticeably uncomfortable, her back pressed against the wall of the shed, her nails digging into her palms.

  “I want to show you something,” LeBeck said breathlessly. He gently took the gold locket from his coat pocket and presented it to her.

  “My locket!” she exclaimed. “But I lost this years ago. How did you…” Collene examined the locket a moment, then opened it. Inside she found the photo of herself, taken many years ago. She looked up at LeBeck, frowning now. “You stole it.”

  “I had to have something to remember you by,” he said hastily. “It saved my life. Look.” He turned the locket over, showing her a deep dent in the metal. “It deflected a bullet heading for my heart.”

  Collene gulped. “Jean, I…”

  “Have you ever been to Paris? It’s wonderful, Collene. Let me take you there.”

  “No.”

  “I’ve got money. Lots of it. After tonight’s job, I can take you off this cursed rock. Come with me to Paris, Collene.”

  She stared at him, horrified. “You know I can’t.”

  For a brief moment, hate burned in LeBeck’s eyes. “It’s him, isn’t it? That… lightkeeper.” He spat the word out with contempt.

  “Jean,” Collene said, anxious for him to understand. “I couldn’t wait for you any longer. You were in Europe all those years. You’re the one who broke off the wedding, for God’s sake.”

  “Only until I got better. I needed time, that’s all.”

  “That’s not what you said in your letters. Besides, how long did you expect me to wait?”

  LeBeck looked away. “You told me you’d marry me,” he said finally.

  “Clarence was here for me, Jean. You weren’t.”

  “But I’m here now,” he said, looking back into her eyes. “I love you, Collene. I want you back.”

  “But why?” she asked, imploring him for an answer. LeBeck looked down at his shoes, unsure what to say. The conversation wasn’t going as he’d planned at all, and he was on the verge of panicking.

  “Why do you want me now?” she insisted. “Look at me. Jean, look at me!” She cupped his chin and forced him to look her in the eyes. “I’m old. I’m a mother. You can have anyone you want. Why me?”

  LeBeck snatched the locket back from her, gripping it in a tight fist. “Because you promised. You promised.”

  It was Collene’s turn to look down. Her hand reached out, touching him on the chest.

  “You should have waited for me, Collene,” he continued, nearly in tears now.

  “I’m sorry, Jean. I don’t love you anymore.”

  The words hit LeBeck like a shotgun to the chest. He stood there a moment, his face glazed with shock. He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it.

  “I don’t love you,” Collene said again, slowly, deliberately. “I never will. You have to leave.”

  Something snapped inside LeBeck then. It was as if someone had lowered a red curtain in his mind, clouding all his thoughts with rage and despair. “Then I’ll make you love me,” he said through clenched teeth. He shoved her roughly against the wall of the shed and pressed himself on her, crushing his lips to hers.

  Collene tore her head to the side and grimaced. “Jean, no!” She struggled and tried to fight him off, but he responded by pinning her arms back. Collene snarled and brought a knee up into LeBeck’s groin. He grunted in pain, then slammed her back hard against the wall again.

  “Make you love me!” he shouted. His face now contorted with a snarl, he groped for her dress, then tore it off one shoulder.

  “No!” Collene shrieked.

  Suddenly, emerging from the shadows, Ian leapt forward, pocketknife gripped firmly in his hand. “Get away from her, you bastard!”

  LeBeck dodged to one side just as the knife swooped down, but Ian rammed the blade up to the hilt in LeBeck’s buttock. LeBeck howled in pain, dropping the locket to the ground.

  “Ian!” screamed Collene. “Get out of here!”

  Ian scooped up the locket in one swift motion, then grabbed LeBeck’s Tommy gun and fumbled with the cocking bolt. Sally, half-hidden in the shadows, crouched behind Ian, ready to run.

  LeBeck roared and jerked the knife out of his flesh, then staggered forward toward Ian. “Give me that locket, boy!”

  “Run!” Collene ordered.

  “Give me that locket!”

  As Ian stumbled backward, still struggling with the machine gun, LeBeck raised the knife high, ready to strike. Collene took a step forward, her eyes wild with fear.

  “Jean, for God’s sake! No!”

  LeBeck stopped and looked back at Collene. She stood still, hands out, pleading with her eyes. For one brief moment, the red veil lifted from his mind, and all the hate and self-loathing melted. He slowly lowered the knife.

  Ian saw his chance and took off across the yard, with Sally following in close pursuit.

  Startled at the sudden movement, LeBeck whirled and saw Ian running away, gun in one hand and locket in the other. The red veil returned. He scowled at Collene, then turned and limped after his prey.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ian and Sally dashed across the compound, rain pelting their mackintoshes as they headed back toward the houses. Ian led the way, awkwardly trying to pull back the cocking bolt on the Tommy gun while at the same time trying to keep his feet from slipping on the wet grass. Halfway across the compound, Sally caught up with him and gripped his arm, halting him momentarily. “Where are you going?” she demanded, her breathing ragged.

  “To the rescue!” Ian said, voice quavering, as he held up the machine gun, his false bravado further betrayed by his trembling hands gripping the weapon.

  “With that?” Sally said incredulously. “You’ve never shot a gun before in your life!”

  Ian finally managed to pull back the bolt. “There,” he said with satisfaction.

  “We’re going to the Coast Guard station,” Sally said decisively, leaving no room for argument. “Come on.” She took off again, toward the tramcar at the end of the compound, then stopped when she realized Ian hadn’t followed. She turned and gestured impatiently. “Come on!”

  Ian stood there holding the gun, undecided. Suddenly, LeBeck emerged from the shadows, limping but moving quickly across the grass. His face was contorted like a wild animal, his hook hand waving through the air in front of him. He spotted Ian and gave a wolf-like grin. “I’m commin’ boy. I’m commin’ for you!”

  Ian bolted like a rabbit, sprinting across the compound and quickly catching up with Sally. They rounded the corner of the shed marking the end of the tramway rail and surprised a thug standing guard.

  Sally moved to the tramcar while Ian leveled his Tommy gun at the hoodlum. “On the ground,” he ordered. “Now!”

  The thug, half-amused, raised his arms partway and feigned fright. “Now little boy,” he said sweetly, “Don’t shoot. Why don’t you just give me that gun?”

  Ian thrust the muzzle forward, his trigger finger twitching. “I said get down!”

  Ian squeezed the trigger and shot off a burst into the ground in front of the thug. The rat-tat-tat sound of the machine gun ripped through the air, and the force of the blast nearly knocked Ian off his feet. Several shots went astray as the muzzle jum
ped up in Ian’s hand. Finally he let go of the trigger and stood there, wide-eyed.

  “Okay! Okay!” shouted the terrified thug, dropping to his knees. His beady eyes darted back and forth, watching for an opening.

  Sally grabbed Ian by the arm and yanked him away. “On the tram. Quick.”

  The pair tumbled onto the flatbed tramcar. Sally disengaged the chain, then kicked away the emergency brake. The car started its free-fall descent and quickly gathered speed.

  “This is nuts!” Ian shouted over the wind.

  LeBeck and another thug rounded the corner of the shed and saw the tramcar accelerating away down the hill. Ian and Sally ducked down as the thug whipped out a pistol and began shooting. Bullets ricocheted off several boxes stacked at the trailing edge of the tramcar.

  Ignoring the pain from his stab wound, LeBeck worked up a burst of speed and gave chase. Sprinting down the hill, limping and wincing in pain, he leapt and fell heavily on the very edge of the tram, his feet dragging behind him.

  “The locket!” he roared.

  Sally screamed as LeBeck reached up and snared her hair, trying to pull her off the speeding tramcar. The ground whizzed by in a dizzying blur.

  Ian aimed the Tommy gun, but couldn’t risk shooting as Sally and LeBeck struggled and twisted. He set down the gun and reached inside one of the crates. He found a store of lake trout, brought earlier by Captain Ben, still packed in ice. He gripped a ten-pounder by the tail, hauled off, and with a sickening smack hit LeBeck full in the face. LeBeck screamed as he lost his grip and fell, tumbling off the side into the darkness.

  Sally pointed downhill. “We’re gonna crash!”

  “Should have thought about that before we started!”

  They careened around a curve in the track, the car nearly coming up off two wheels. They zoomed past a storage shed midway down the path, then entered the steepest section of the hill, the last descent to the dock and the steam engine shack at the end of the line.

  Down below, Ian and Sally could make out a gang of thugs at the bottom of the hill, waiting for them with machine guns and pistols.

  “Sal!” Ian yelled, pointing just ahead. “The tree! Now!”

  As the car streaked by, the two teenagers leapt up and gripped an overhanging tree branch. The car rushed by underneath them, zooming crazily down the tracks. Sally actually managed to hang on to the branch, but Ian, thanks to their momentum and the wet bark, lost his grip and tumbled headlong to the ground.

  Sally let go of the branch, dropped to the ground and rushed over to her friend. Ian sat up, groaning, his raincoat torn, and rubbed his head and backside.

  “You okay?” she asked, helping him to his feet.

  “The woods,” he said, shaking his head to ward off the daze he was feeling. “Come on.”

  They moved off into the cover of the trees.

  At first, the thugs on the beach could only hear the runaway tramcar. With a screeching, metallic roar it came whizzing down the tracks at breakneck speed, like a bat out of hell. Several men at the bottom of the rail line opened fire, hoping to shoot whatever crazy person was responsible. Then, as it emerged from the rain and mist, they saw the car racing downward, an unstoppable beast of metal and wood.

  The tramcar whizzed by the last section of track, then crashed into the engine shed, which exploded in a hail of sparks and splintered wood.

  The thugs went berserk, screaming and scattering in disarray like a colony of ants whose nest had just been stepped on.

  Once more Ian and Sally found themselves fleeing through the woods. Ian couldn’t believe he was stumbling over the stone-and-root-covered terrain twice on the same stormy night. At least this time he had a clear mission. Get help and rescue his family, and Sally’s, from that bastard LeBeck.

  They set off eastward, away from shore and toward the ridge they’d arrived on. It would be a long trek, but it was the quickest way to the Coast Guard station at Rock Harbor, except by boat, and that was out of the question the way Lake Superior was behaving tonight.

  Just as Ian was wondering if they’d even arrive at Rock Harbor by dawn, and if perhaps they shouldn’t try the boat after all, a huge gust of wind blew through the forest. A tree, a tall aspen, no more than twenty yards in front of them, bent sharply. Then they heard a crack like cannon fire, and the tree toppled to the ground with a thunderous crash.

  Ian and Sally looked at each other, wide-eyed. “Guess we won’t be taking the boat for sure?” surmised Ian, bracing himself against the ever-increasing wind.

  “Got that right,” said Sally. “Let’s move.”

  They set out, stepping carefully over the fallen tree. They walked a few more yards into the forest when suddenly a man appeared from behind a tree in front of them. He carried a green lantern, which cast an eerie shadow over his aged, craggy face. Ian and Sally stopped dead in their tracks, open-mouthed.

  “Captain Ben!” Ian blurted out.

  Ben put a finger to his lips, then whispered to them. “Follow me, kids. Maybe we’ll make it out of this pickle you’ve gotten yourselves into.”

  Ben moved quickly and stealthily through the woods, green lantern swinging at his side. After a moment’s hesitation, Ian and Sally plunged into the forest after him. They followed his lead the best they could, at times struggling to keep up with the old mariner. Ben obviously knew his way around the island.

  After several minutes of tripping over hidden paths and moose trails, and on several occasions bushwhacking straight through thick, seemingly impenetrable foliage, Ben eventually led them quietly to the shoreline at the base of the cliffs, not far from the dock where the thugs were still running amok in panic and confusion.

  Ben set his lantern down and then set to work on a pile of sticks and branches, uncovering a small, single-masted dinghy. He quietly slid it into the water, then turned to Ian and Sally. “This’ll be a rough ride, but we’ll make it. Come on, in with you.”

  Sally looked at the churning waves attacking the shore, then felt a blast of wind tearing at her. “I don’t think so,” she said.

  “Come on,” Ben said, waving them on. “It’s the only way.”

  “This is completely crazy,” she muttered.

  “No kidding,” said Ian, moving past her. “Let’s go.”

  The two teenagers hopped into the little boat and crouched down in the bow. Ben hoisted the sail and the dinghy took off with a jerk. Almost immediately, a large wave crashed over them, nearly swamping the boat and causing Sally and Ian to cry out in fear.

  On the nearby shore, the gang of thugs heard the screaming, even over the roar of the waves. They spotted the dinghy and opened fire with their weapons, but by then the dinghy had sailed out of range of all but the best shot, and the thugs on shore were mediocre marksmen at best.

  Ben handed Ian the rope controlling the end of the sail as he took his seat in the aft of the dinghy, gripping the rudder with strong, weathered hands. “Hold this,” he commanded.

  Ben was forced to talk loud over the roaring wind. Waves hurled them up and down in the water, spray stinging their eyes, the cold water sending shock waves through their bodies. The worst part was the sideways rolling motion as they sailed parallel to the shore. Soon, Ian was ready to heave his guts up. After a few more minutes, he turned an interesting shade of green, then leaned over the side and emptied his stomach into the lake.

  “The Lady’s mighty angry tonight,” said Ben, ignoring Ian’s retching. “We can’t beach the boat on these rocks. We’ll smash up.”

  “Where are we going?” Sally shouted.

  “North toward McCargoe Cove, up past Sandy Point.”

  Ian sat back next to Sally, his face ashen. He glanced knowingly at Ben, then turned to Sally. “We can ride out the storm there, then head for Rock Harbor when the wind dies down. Right, Ben?”

  Ben gave a faint smile, then spent his energies on keeping the dinghy upright in the water.

  Ian, his arm muscles screaming from the effort of holding t
he sail taught, started tying off the rope to his seat. Sally grabbed his arm.

  “Don’t,” she said, shaking her head. “If a wind gust hits, just let go of the sail.”

  “My arm’s tired. Why can’t I tie it down?”

  Ben shouted from the stern. “With this little dinghy, the wind’ll heel us over, lad, and we’ll drown for sure.”

  “Okay,” Ian said, bracing himself and gripping the rope with both hands, redoubling his efforts to hang on. Sally leaned closer and put her hands next to his, grabbing the rope as well. She looked over at Ian and smiled weakly.

  “This is crazy,” she said again.

  Wind blasted into the sail, propelling the little craft down the coast at a rapid clip. Ben hung onto the rudder, his knuckles white, as he tried with all his might to keep the boat from being blown onto the granite shore.

  Back at the cove below Wolf Point, three thugs hopped into a motorboat tied to the dock. The boat had an enormous outboard engine, which gave it the horsepower to overtake almost anything on the lake. The ship bobbed precariously on the water, which was rough even in the semi-protection of the harbor.

  Guns ready, the thugs cast off, heading north along the coast in pursuit of the runaways.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Out on stormy Lake Superior, the tiny dinghy skipped across the turbulent water, its sail filled with gusts of cold wind. The trio had ridden in silence for the past several minutes, partly because it was so difficult to hear over the surf and thunder booming overhead, and partly because of the sheer terror of their situation.

  The dinghy passed Sandy Point and the ghostly remains of the ruined lighthouse, made more eerie by the increasing fury of the storm. Sally’s eyes searched the shoreline.

  “No green lights now,” she said.

  Ian nudged her with his elbow, nodding at Ben’s green lantern, which was stowed away at the bottom of the boat.

  Sally looked up at Ben, who smiled back at her as he manned the till. Through all the excitement, she hadn’t made the connection before now. “You’re the ghost, aren’t you?”