“Hey,” she said. “Watch it. You okay?”
He peered at her. She was frightened, but rock steady and determined. Gabe wondered where this woman had come from, because the smart, pretty, flirty girl from the offices back in Miami had vanished completely.
“There’s nothing you could have done for him,” Tori said.
She thought he’d been upset, or grieving for Boggs, when in truth he had been glad the man was no longer his problem. Gabe gently tugged his arm free of her touch, unworthy of her concern.
“Go on, Tori. You next,” he said.
Kevonne and Pang already stood on the weathered hull of the schooner’s starboard side, which had spent many years exposed to the elements. The two sailors had considered it a minor miracle to discover that the winch cables at the aft end of the trawler — which had once hauled its nets — were already strung across the gap between the fishing boat and the schooner. Gabe saw it as an ugly omen. Lives had probably been lost just getting from one ship to the next, but someone had succeeded in turning those winch arms toward the schooner and tying the cables off somewhere on its deck. But he couldn’t make himself believe that whoever had done that had managed to make it away from the island alive. The fact that the things were still in the water suggested that no one had come here in force, and that no one had ever gotten away and lived long enough to do anything about the bizarre Venus flytrap this paradise had become.
“Come on!” Kevonne shouted across the gap. “The Antoinette’s coming!”
He sounded so excited, as though he thought Miguel might actually try bringing the Antoinette up close to the rusty freighter. Gabe knew that wasn’t the case. The water just wasn’t deep enough, especially now, with the tide out.
But Miguel said he had a plan.
Gabe looked down into the gap between the trawler and the schooner. At the bottom, only seven or eight feet of water showed. But they needed to cross to a place far enough up the side of the lopsided ship’s hull that they could stand without slipping off. Once Kevonne and Pang had been able to put their feet down, they had used the cables as guide wires to move up farther. Now they were almost at the deck — which would be practically a sheer drop-off into the water on that side.
“What if I fall?” Tori asked.
He looked at her, almost relieved to see that her steely resolve had cracks in it. It shook him from his reverie. Tori needed him to step up, to be the captain.
“You’ll be fine. You saw the guys do it. Just shimmy, and don’t let go.”
Tori arched an eyebrow. “Easy for you to say.”
Gabe glanced at the horizon, feeling the urgency of the dwindling afternoon. Tori caught the look and nodded, as though trying to convince herself. She put her back to the schooner and grabbed hold of the cable, hoisted herself up and wrapped her legs around it. Hanging upside down, she started to haul herself as quickly as she could, hand over hand, across the gap between ships.
“Don’t stop for anything,” Gabe said.
“Thanks,” Tori huffed, the muscles in her arms standing out from the effort. “Now … shut up.”
Gabe watched her, holding his breath. Across from him, on the hull of the sunken schooner, Pang and Kevonne stared in silence, waiting to help. None of them looked down, not even when something splashed below them, between the trawler and the two-masted sailing ship. At the start, Kevonne had wanted to go feetfirst, so he could look ahead and see where he was going. Gabe and Pang had immediately nixed that idea. Headfirst, pulling themselves along, would be much faster, and lugging your own body weight that far, speed was of the essence.
Three-quarters of the way across, Tori paused to rest.
“Don’t stop!” Gabe called.
Kevonne held on to the cable and worked his way toward her. The angle of the hull wasn’t steep, but it did slant, and the wood was smooth, and if he slipped he would end up in the water.
“Tori?” Kevonne called.
“I know!” she snapped. Her arms were wrapped around the cable, giving her hands a rest. She flexed her fingers, took a breath, and then grabbed hold and started moving again, hanging down, muscles straining.
Twenty seconds later, Kevonne was helping her down off the cable. Together they started moving back to the flatter area at the top of the hull, holding on to the cable as an anchor and guide. At the highest vantage point on the schooner, the way it laid in the water, the hull was as flat as the deck would have been had the ship been upright, while the actual deck had become a sheer drop down into the water.
The three of them stood waiting. Gabe felt very old, suddenly, and exhausted. For a few seconds, he almost gave up. Angry with himself, he shook it off. Miguel said he had a plan, and Gabe would have to rely on that. Whatever it took, he would make it back to the Antoinette. No way in hell would he let himself die before he got a chance to look his brother in the eye and ask if the FBI agent had been telling the truth about Miguel and Maya.
Idiot. He’s not lying. What did he have to gain?
Anguish filled him, overpowering his fear. He thought of Maya’s bronze skin, the softness of her hair, and the gentle curve at the small of her back. He thought of the way her eyes sparkled when he made her laugh, and the way they dimmed when he made her cry, and he couldn’t decide in that moment who he hated more, his brother or himself.
Gabe crossed himself, kissed the tips of his fingers, and glanced into the sky. If God took any notice, perhaps he would also take pity.
He hooked his left arm over the cable, then pulled his legs up, troubled at having to support his own weight. It wasn’t something he’d be able to do for very long. Heart fluttering, he began to move across the gap between ships. The cable bit into his hands, but he’d been at sea for years, and the calluses were thick. Working his legs, keeping them hooked over the cable as he made his way, was much more difficult. At twenty it would have been simple enough. Gabe didn’t usually think of himself as very old, but his muscles weren’t as limber as they’d once been.
His arms strained, his shoulders burned, and his hands stung, despite their calluses. A terrible certainty filled him that his strength would give out before he reached the other side, that the extra weight he carried from years of indulgences — not a lot, really, but perhaps enough — would drag him down.
“Captain!” Kevonne yelled. “Put your feet down!”
The words broke through his concentration and he listened carefully, afraid he’d misunderstood. But then Tori spoke, much closer than Kevonne.
“Gabe. You’re here.”
She reached him, touched his arm. Tentatively, blinking with amazement, he let his legs drop down to the schooner’s hull, holding tightly to the cable, and turned to look at Tori. She had walked out to guide him in, just as Kevonne had done for her.
“Thanks,” he said.
Tori squeezed his wrist. “Let’s move.”
The two of them made their way to where Kevonne and Pang waited, and they all rested a few seconds. Gabe had to take a step back from the edge, where the deck dropped straight down to the water. He had never been afraid of heights, but any time he stood on a balcony or even the walkway along the Antoinette’s accommodations block, the physical urge to jump tugged him forward. He’d read about that feeling. Thanatos, they called it. The death urge. Fortunately the instinct to stay alive overrode his body’s strange desire to succumb to gravity.
“The rest should be easy,” Kevonne said.
Pang snorted, glancing at him. “You think?”
Kevonne shrugged, gestured back the way they’d come. “Compared to that, yeah.”