by Kathy Reichs
“Don’t forget my world-famous ghost tour.”
Given the circumstances, Chris’s levity was unnerving.
My instincts screamed in warning.
I caught Hi’s eye, motioned with a hand behind my back. He nodded, tugged Shelton’s sleeve. Together they inched backward around the pit.
I edged to my left. Chris’s eyes followed me, but he made no move.
“Listen up, Grad Student Chris Fletcher.” Chance’s tone was cool. “This is a private party, and you’re not welcome. Run along.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t? Ben. Help me convince good ole Chris here that it’s past time he left.”
The two boys started forward, Ben still holding the shovel.
Chris pulled a Glock 20 semi-automatic pistol from the pocket of his sweatshirt.
The boys stopped dead. Ben dropped the implement and raised both hands.
Shelton gasped. My eyes fixed on the Glock’s muzzle, knowing its deadly power.
Chris spoke in a very low voice. “Get the picture now?”
Chance and Ben retreated a few steps.
“Good.” Chris craned his neck. “And tell the fat kid and his wimpy friend to stop sneaking around back there.”
I took a baby step left. Encountered a branch on its serpentine journey across the sand.
Go. Get help.
I was about to slip under the bough when something clicked in the blackness beside me.
Adrenaline pumping, I turned.
Sallie Fletcher faced me from across the dead limb.
Smiling, she motioned me backward with her own gun.
“They came alone.” Sallie slipped around the branch and walked to Chris’s side. “Just one boat, anchored near the northern point.”
“I expected nothing less,” Chris replied. “These kids are incredibly resourceful.”
Chance, Ben, and I stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the treasure chest. Hi and Shelton were behind, on the far side of the hole.
The cursed tree had us trapped. The only exit was straight through the Fletchers.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“Let’s start with answers. How’d you discover Bonny’s escape route? Who told you to look in the Provost Dungeon?”
“No one. We figured it out ourselves.”
“It was you in the tunnels.” Ben’s voice sounded menacing, despite our situation. “You tried to kill us.”
Chris ignored him. “You just figured it out? Impossible. Sallie and I researched Anne Bonny for two solid years. All you did was swipe a worthless map.”
“Map?”
Sallie laughed. “Did you really think you could steal an artifact that easily?”
“I didn’t notice at first.” Chris sounded amused. “But something about you guys seemed … off, so I checked the case the next day. Guess what? No map.”
“Why didn’t you report it stolen?” I was genuinely puzzled.
“We couldn’t believe you swiped it.” Sallie shook her head. “The crime was so audacious, so reckless! You had to know something. We decided to wait and see.”
“Her plan.” Chris squeezed his wife’s side. “And it worked. Glad I listened.”
The situation was surreal. Our conversation was amiable, a friendly chat.
Except for the guns pointed at our chests.
“You guys are tough to follow.” Chris scratched his chin. “Boats. Cars. Pawnshops. It got overwhelming. Luckily, you came right to us.”
“The ghost tour,” Ben said sourly.
“You two suck at espionage.” Hi spoke from behind me. “Next time you tail someone, lose the bright red Studebaker.”
Chris’s brow wrinkled. “We drive a Prius, you dope.”
“The ghost tour business is a front, isn’t it?” I asked. “You used it as cover to search underneath East Bay Street.”
“Looking for Lady Peregrine’s roost.” Sallie nodded. “We knew Bonny’s tunnel had to be near the East Bay docks. But we combed the Provost Dungeon a dozen times, and never once noticed a loose stone. How did you know to look there?”
“What was inside the last chamber?” Greed hardened Chris’s voice. “How did you know to come to Bull Island?”
I held out a hand. “Give up the gun and we’ll talk about it.”
“You’ll tell us everything!” Sallie’s sudden anger was alarming. “We study and search for two years, find nothing, but you brats solve the mystery in one week? Impossible. You had help. Who? We know others are looking, too.”
Silence. No point in responding.
“Not knowing is killing me!” Chris said playfully. “When we lost you underground, I was sure you’d stolen our treasure. We almost didn’t bother plugging the bolt-hole, but Sallie convinced me to keep the faith.”
“Always trust your spouse!” Sallie blew him a kiss. “Thankfully, we’d planted a cell phone in your boat. That made tracking you easy. By boat, at least.”
Chris chuckled. “We even searched that ridiculous cabin top to bottom. Found nothing. It was very depressing.”
“You’ll pay for that,” Chance promised. “That’s Claybourne property.”
“Imagine our surprise tonight!” Chris was rolling. “I don’t know how you learned the treasure was out here, but thanks for doing the legwork.”
“Piss off!” Ben spat.
“Step away from the chest.” Suddenly, Sallie was all business. “And hand over the map.”
“We found the chest,” Chance said coldly. “By law it belongs to us. Even if you steal it tonight, we’ll get it back. Only we know how it was found. Good luck explaining yourselves when the police come knocking.”
“Shut up, Chance.” Hi was watching the Fletchers carefully. “These two are dangerous.”
“Your friend is smarter than you, rich boy.” Chris pulled back the slide on his Glock. “Maybe it’d be better if you disappeared. No competing claims that way, right?”
“Just one incredible tale!” Sallie’s teeth flashed. “Meet the fabulous Fletchers! Hear how they decoded an ancient map, discovered long-forgotten tunnels beneath our city’s streets, and found Anne Bonny’s lost treasure!”
“Fortune and glory,” Chris said. “Modern day Indiana Joneses. We’ll be renowned archaeologists before finishing grad school. Not to mention filthy rich.”
“People will search for us,” Shelton said in a timid voice. “Hundreds.”
“But not here,” Chris promised. “No one will ever connect Bull Island to Anne Bonny.”
“Admit it.” Sallie’s tone was taunting. “You snuck out tonight. No one knows you’re here. When your boat is discovered in Breach Inlet, everyone will assume you drowned after capsizing. One midnight cruise too many.”
“Sad,” Chris said.
“And look, honey!” Sallie pointed her gun at the gaping hole in the sand. “The kids were thoughtful enough to dig their own grave.”
THERE WAS NO time to plan.
The Fletchers had us trapped between the twisting branches of the cedar. It’d be over in seconds.
I don’t remember reaching, but my canine double helix suddenly took charge.
SNAP.
The flare burned like a brush fire out of control.
My senses exploded, battering seams at every level of my brain.
Raw energy sizzled through my body, stronger than ever before. The deluge nearly overwhelmed me.
Full moon.
We had only moments. I scanned our attackers, seeking an opening.
Sallie’s chest rose and fell. She licked her lips. Often. Too often. My eyes read “Walther P99” stamped on the barrel of her gun.
Chris’s muscles were taut as piano wire. His knuckles bulged white on the handle of his Glock.
They’d do it. More, they’d enjoy doing it. I knew this with bone-deep certainty.
The Fletchers would murder us all to safeguard their chance at celebrity.
As before, I closed my lids a
nd plumbed the depths of my subconscious.
In my mind’s eye, I stood on an empty black field. Ben appeared beside me. Then Shelton. Then Hi. I felt Coop in the distance, disturbed, tossing in his sleep.
Fiery cables linked the five of us, connecting the group like flashing puppet strings. I reached out and touched the closest one.
Immediately, I heard Ben’s thoughts. Racing. Furious. It was the same connection we’d shared in the underwater tunnel, only clearer and sharper.
Excited, I grabbed the lines running to Shelton and Hi. Their minds opened. Their thoughts flowed to me.
Then, for the first time, I noticed myself. Golden light haloed my body, encircling me in a ring of yellow fire.
Why was I gleaming, but not the other Virals?
In a flash, I understood. And didn’t waste time. My dream self gathered the fiery cables together. Tugged. The glow spread outward from me to the other Virals.
Focusing all my strength, I willed a message to them.
Chris and Sallie are about to shoot! Prepare to scatter!
The boys tensed as the flares took hold. Ben clenched his fists. Hi dropped to one knee. Shelton moaned softly as tremors wracked his thin frame.
In seconds, six golden eyes blazed like mine.
“What are you doing?” Sallie waived the Walther. “Nobody move.”
Chris was staring at Ben. “What’s wrong with your pupils?”
Chance turned and met my gaze. His eyes widened, then darted to Shelton and Hi. “Golden eyes!” he whispered. “They do glow!”
“Enough.” Sallie raised her pistol and took aim at my head.
Time slowed.
Now!
I was coiled to spring when a blood-curdling howl split the night.
Sallie started in surprise.
Chris cast a nervous glance toward the dunes at his back.
A second howl sounded. A third. The noise seemed to come from all around us.
A foreign presence entered my mindscape. Unconnected. Not a Viral.
The aura was alien, yet somehow familiar. I tried to make contact. Primal thoughts brushed against my psyche.
We come.
Images flashed in my brain. Ancient memories from another species.
Stalking a deer through a stand of sea oats. Wrestling with littermates on a chalky white dune. Sleeping surrounded by the warmth of a pack.
A red-brown form appeared in my mind, four-legged, snout up and sniffing the breeze.
White Muzzle.
I sensed the red wolf and his pack racing down the beach.
We come, brothers.
Sallie and Chris were moving with short, jerky motions, unnerved by the baying all around them.
Stooping quickly, I grabbed the shovel at my feet.
The movement caught Sallie’s attention.
“Time’s up, Little Miss.” She aimed the Walther with one trembling hand. “In your next life, remember to mind your own business.”
Blood pounded in my ears. No place to run. No chance to dodge.
A brown streak burst from the shadows and clipped Sallie’s legs. She screamed as she went down, firing wildly.
Crack! Crack!
Bullets struck a branch above my head.
More howls sounded in the night.
Chris whipped right, then left, unsure which direction to face.
Two blurs shot from the dunes and knocked Chris to the sand. He rolled, futilely searching for targets.
I sent another message to the Virals.
Ben! Take out Chris! Hi and Shelton, distract Sallie!
Moving like quicksilver, Ben dove and tackled Chris before he could stand. The Glock flew, dropped. The two rolled, scratching and clawing to retrieve it.
“Get away from him!” Sallie rose to her knees and leveled the Walther on Ben.
Two more red-brown shapes buzzed close. Sallie cowered, eyes fearful.
Then a fist-sized rock winged past her face.
Sallie spun, cursing.
Shelton chucked again, then ducked behind the treasure chest.
“Bastard!” Sallie screeched.
A conch shell zinged through the air and struck her shoulder. She swung the gun quickly and caught Hi in the crosshairs.
“Blaaah!” Hi dove headfirst into the pit.
“Bad move, you little prick!” Sallie scrambled to the edge and took aim. “Enjoy your final resting place.”
I sprang forward and swung the shovel at Sallie’s head. The blade connected with a sickening thud. “Nighty night, bitch.”
Sallie’s eyes rolled backward. She wobbled a moment, then collapsed and lay still.
Hi’s voice floated up from below. “Nice cut, A-Rod!”
Ben was still struggling with Chris on the beach.
“Claybourne!” he gasped. “A little help!”
The words snapped Chance from his shock.
Racing forward, he jumped on Chris from behind. Momentarily freed, Ben kicked Chris in the stomach, driving the wind from his chest. Then Chance’s fist connected to Chris’s temple and he crumpled to the sand.
Shelton scuttled forward and scooped up both guns. “Anyone know where the safeties are?” Then he threw up on the beach.
“Your eyes.” Chance was panting, staring at Ben. “Why do they glow like that?”
Ben turned his back.
Chance’s gaze shot to me.
“Yours too!” Chance stumbled to his feet. “All of you!”
“Chance.” I had no idea what to say next.
“What are you, some kind of cult?” Chance backpedaled, face swiveling from Viral to Viral. “I saw this before. That night, in my basement! It wasn’t a dream. I’m not crazy!”
“If you’d just—”
“Did you summon those animals here!?!” Chance’s voice was taut with horror. “How did you all move so fast!?!”
“Relax.” I reached out to calm him. “There’s nothing to—”
“Stay away!” Chance turned and bolted down the beach.
“Wait! The boat’s in the other direction!”
But he was gone.
“We have to go,” Ben said. “Right now.”
I spread my arms. “And leave Chance out here?”
“No choice.” Hi was already gathering tools. “Shots were fired. We don’t know who heard, or if these two psychopaths came alone. Time to make tracks.”
I groaned, frustrated. But the boys were right.
Working quickly, we broke down the work site, keeping a close watch on the unconscious duo sprawled on the sand. In minutes we were packed and ready to go.
“We just leave them here?” Shelton asked. “They tried to kill us. Twice.”
“You have a better idea?” Ben grabbed the chest by one handle, motioned for Hi to take the other. “We can’t both escape with the loot and deal with police. I choose the treasure. Otherwise, what was the point?”
“Seconded,” Hi said.
“Agreed.” I shook my head to clear it. “We can plot our next move once we’re safe.”
“Okay.” With two semi-automatics tucked in his belt, Shelton looked quite the gangster.
“Ready?” Ben hoisted his end of the chest.
“Ready.” Hi lifted the other.
Shelton and I shouldered the remaining tools, buckets, and other equipment. With our flares still burning, we had strength to spare.
The boys started off down the beach.
I paused, concentrated hard, and fired one last message into the ether.
Thank you, brothers.
Moments later, canine voices yipped in the night.
BEN CUT THE motor.
Sewee bobbed in the current. We’d just rounded Isle of Palms and come alongside Sullivan’s Island. Ahead lay Charleston Harbor, Morris Island, and home.
Dawn was less than an hour away. The moon was setting, but still reflected off the ocean, lighting the night. With my flare extinguished, I was dog tired.
“Why are we stopped?�
� I suppressed a yawn.
“You can’t be serious.” Ben powered the lamp.
Shelton’s brows rose. “What are you, some kind of robot?”
“What?” I hadn’t a clue.
“Anne Bonny’s infamous, long-lost pirate treasure.” Hi touched his forehead, then his hand shot toward the chest. “Right there. Get it?”
“Time to open this puppy.” Shelton rubbed his palms. “After what we’ve been through, I wanna see some gold bars. Diamond rings!”
I started to protest, then stopped. Why not open it now? There was no real reason to wait, and the boys were clearly out of patience.
“First things first.” I pointed to the two handguns. “Over the side.”
“What?” Ben frowned. “Why?”
“Because we have to get rid of them.”
“The insane curators should be waking up about now,” Ben argued. “And we still don’t know who tailed us in the Studebaker. We need to protect ourselves.”
I crossed my arms. “What do you know about guns?”
“Plenty,” Ben said. “My father has a whole rack.”
“You willing to hide two semi-automatic pistols at your house?” I turned to Hi and Shelton. “How about you two? They aren’t coming home with me.”
“The guns could stay in the bunker,” Shelton said. “We could hide them in the back room near the old mineshaft.”
“We do not need guns.” I caught and held Shelton’s eye. “Are you really ready to shoot someone?”
He looked away.
“I’m with Tory,” Hi said. “I get nervous just talking about firearms. We’ve done fine so far without packing heat.”
“It’s not who we are,” I said. “We don’t need guns to protect ourselves.”
Ben sighed, then picked up both weapons and tossed them overboard.
“Now can we open it?” Hi wheedled.
I flashed a wicked grin. “Try to stop me!”
“Shoot!” Shelton shook a fist in frustration. “I didn’t bring my lock-pick set.”
Ben reached for the excavation tools. “Give me room.”
We spread out as best we could. Ben wedged a chisel against the padlock and began hammering. For five minutes the lock held. Then …
Clunk.
The hasp gave.
“I promise to still hang with you guys when I’m super loaded,” Hi said. “The swank life won’t change me. Much.”