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Shy watched as Bill pulled a gun out of the bag and pointed it at him.

Shy froze in disbelief. “What are you doing?”

“And Mr. Miller pays me a lot of money for protection,” Bill continued. “As long as he’s alive, I will always protect his interests. The company may be ruined, but he’s assured me my services are more valuable to him now than ever before. No one on the mainland knows about his vaccine, and I intend to keep it that way.”

“He’s dead, though,” Shy said.

“Oh no,” Bill said, standing up. “Jim Miller is very much alive. He’s on his way back home as we speak.”

The helicopter, Shy thought.

“Oh, and as far as the two men you found on the ocean,” the man went on, “one of them was a doctor who intended to get the vaccine to California. To protect those who are still healthy and to expose us. The other man was one of mine. His instructions were to make sure this man never arrived. I’m sorry to hear I lost a good man, but at least his mission was a success.”

The man motioned with the gun for Shy to sit on the ground. He did, staring directly into the barrel. His whole body shaking uncontrollably now. Out of a blinding fear. What if this guy didn’t let him go? What if he wasn’t able to get on the ship with Carmen and Marcus? And he never made it back home to look for his family?

“I’m going to teach you something,” Bill said. “And I’m only doing this because you helped me on the ship. Otherwise you’d already be in the ground.”

“I got you on a lifeboat,” Shy said weakly.

The man took a deep breath and stared at Shy. “We all have roles to play in this life,” he continued. “It’s simple really. Mr. Williamson had a gift for science. Ego led him to create the perfect disease. Mr. Miller had the business sense to make money off that creation. My role is to protect Mr. Miller. And do you know what your role is, Shy?”

Shy stared as the man continued pointing the gun at him. “It’s not right, though,” he barely managed to say.

Bill shook his head. “I learned a long time ago to never get caught up in right or wrong. The problem here, Shy, is that you know too much. Maybe you’ve known too much since the night Mr. Williamson decided to end his life. Or maybe you only know too much because of what I just told you. Either way, your role comes to an end today.”

Bill cocked the gun and moved forward a little, so that the barrel was only a few inches away from Shy’s forehead.

Shy looked down at the ground in front of him and then closed his eyes, waiting to hear the explosion that would end it all. His mind furiously flashed through hundreds of images: boarding the ship and his grandma lying in her hospital bed and Rodney’s red eyes and his nephew sleeping and his mom climbing the steps to their apartment and Addie tearing the fish in half and meeting Carmen for the first time on the ship.

And then he heard it.

The shot.

And he let his head fall toward the ground, assuming he was dead.

But he was still sitting there. Smelling the dirt. Breathing. Thinking.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked up.

Bill was lying facedown two feet in front of him, blood already pooling in the dirt around his body.

At first Shy thought he’d shot himself, but then he sensed someone to his right and turned.

Shoeshine was standing there.

The gun in his right hand still pointed at the man.

The brown and blue duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

48

Kicking Down the Door

Shy stumbled to his feet, watching Shoeshine check Bill for a pulse. “Is he dead?” he asked.

“He’s dead.” Shoeshine peeled the gun out of Bill’s right hand and shoved it into the back of his waistband. He picked up the green backpack and then looked out over the ocean.

Shy knew he was in shock, because he couldn’t process what had just happened. But seeing Bill with a bullet wound in his back made him kneel down like he was about to be sick. He’d almost gotten shot in the head. After hearing that Addie’s dad’s company planted the disease to sell their drugs. He spit and looked up at Shoeshine, told him: “You saved my life. Twice now. Who are you?”

The guy shook his head, still looking over the water. “Just a guy who shines shoes, young fella.”

“No way, you have to be something else, too.” Shy wanted to do something for the guy, to show how grateful he was. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring, thrust it forward in his palm. “Here, you should have this,” he said.

Shoeshine looked down at the ring and shook his head. “No thanks. Never been big into jewelry.”

“But you could sell it or something. When we get back to California.”

“Not interested,” Shoeshine said, unzipping Bill’s green backpack and sifting through it.

Shy shoved the ring back into his pocket, watching. He thought of all the things Bill had just told him about the disease and Addie’s dad and everyone’s role. It disgusted him that anyone could make people sick on purpose. How would he explain it to Carmen? And what about Addie?

He turned toward the flooded lab, where it had all started. “How’d you even know we were here?” he asked Shoeshine.

“Been watching that man watch you since back on the ship,” Shoeshine said. “I could sense something wasn’t right.” He turned to face Shy for the first time. “Felt the same way about this whole island, soon as we landed here. It ain’t done with yet, young fella.”

Shy nodded. He wasn’t sure what Shoeshine was talking about, but he knew he agreed. The man hadn’t been wrong yet. Shy stood up and moved closer to Bill’s limp body, studied the bloody bullet wound in his back.

Shoeshine pulled a clear spray bottle out of the green backpack and held it up to the sun, which was much lower in the sky. The bottle was filled with a yellow liquid. Shoeshine sprayed a little onto the back of his hand and smelled it. Then he tasted it and spit.

“What is it?” Shy asked.

Shoeshine shook his head and looked back toward the island.

“What is it, Shoe?”

Shoeshine turned suddenly and tossed Shy the duffel bag. “Make sure everything in there stays safe,” he said. “It’s very important, you hear? There’s something else I gotta see about.” He started hurrying down the hill.

“Where you going?” Shy called after him.

Shoeshine didn’t answer.

“Everyone in the penthouse is sick!” Shy shouted. “They have the disease, too!”

“Stay off that ship!” the man shouted over his shoulder. “Long as you can! You hear me?” Then he ducked around a corner, out of sight.

Shy started down the hill a few minutes later, obsessively running through everything he’d just learned from Bill and replaying the sound of the shot he thought had ended his life. When he heard two people talking in the distance he stopped cold and ducked out of sight. It was two of the researchers coming down from the other path, toward the Y.

Once they passed, he looked around, trying to figure out what to do with the duffel bag. He didn’t want to take any chances, since it was the one job Shoeshine had trusted him with. To be safe, he climbed partway up a tree and stashed the bag in the elbow of a high branch that was covered by a dense layer of leaves. He’d come back for it, he decided, just before he lined up to get on the ship.

Shy hurried down the rest of the path, past the gazebo and into the hotel lobby. A few passengers were leaving just as he got there. “Where you going?” Shy asked.

“A bunch of us are heading down early,” one of the women said. “We’re just so excited.”

“Come down when you can,” the guy next to her said. He held up a deck of cards. “Might play a little poker to pass the time.”