The world didn’t care about him curing psychotics. But it turned out people were willing to pay big bucks to Plincer to create psychotics.
So strange how life works out.
Plincer sighed, digging another bit of putty out of the gap in the bridge of his nose and flicking it off into the dark. Funny, that he’d still have so much vanity he had to put on his face before the new arrivals saw him. He had no reason to care if they saw his disfigurement or not. Even if one of the female visitors on the island took a liking to Plincer, there wasn’t much he could do about it. Lester had bitten off those parts of him.
Chalk it up to an old man’s pride, Plincer thought. We’re all entitled to our little idiosyncrasies.
He sighed deeply and burrowed his head into his pillow. If all went as planned, by this time tomorrow he would no longer have money troubles.
Plincer allowed himself a small smile. Perhaps he should write a letter to his accountant, have him invest in a company that made ear plugs.
If the meeting went as well as Plincer anticipated, there would soon be a lot of screaming, all around the world.
The flashlight from the first aid kit was small, but it had a nice bright LED bulb. Sara clenched it between her teeth and bit down, hard, as she peeled off her jeans. The wound didn’t look too bad when she cleansed it; just four tiny punctures and a growing oval bruise. But it bled like hell and wouldn’t stop. Sara knew that a vein, or maybe an artery, was torn beneath the sin, and wasn’t sure what to do about it. She settled for wrapping it as tight as she could, then putting on a fresh pair of jeans and a sweater.
While Sara chugged a bottle of water she went through the backpacks, searching for anything useful. She pocketed some fingernail clippers, a lighter, and a compass when something caught her attention. Resting unfolded on the ground, like a dead dove, were the divorce papers.
Seeing them brought a lump to her throat.
Martin, her Martin, was out there, in the woods, with their son. So were Tom and Laneesha and Georgia. Of course she worried about Jack, and the others, who were like surrogate children.
But I’m worried sick about him, too.
The thought surprised her. Here they were, a signature away from never seeing each other again, which was something Sara initiated. Yet the thought of Martin being killed—it scared her down to the marrow.
Sara reached down, picked up the papers, and crumpled them into a ball.
If we get out of here, Martin, we’re going to find a way to make it work between us. I swear.
Then she left the tent to check on the kids. Both Tyrone and Cindy had put on shirts. Cindy had opted for something less baggy and a bit more flattering, a gray button-down top that showed she had a waist. Tyrone was in a familiar red and blue plaid shirt, but it wasn’t familiar on him.
“Meadow’s,” he said, noticing Sara’s stare.
She nodded at him. They’d told her about Meadow, and Sara had compartmentalized that particular horror, sealing it away until she had time to deal with it.
“I’m going to use the radio.” She knew she didn’t need to add anything else, but she said it anyway. “Stay on guard. There are twenty more of them out there.”
Sara studied the walkie-talkie, a Core-Sea VHF One Way Radio. On its face were an LCD screen, which was empty gray, a tiny red light near the base, and half a dozen buttons including wx band, 16/9, band, hi/lo, and mem. She had no idea what any of that meant. There were two equally confusing dials on the top, and a large black call button on the side. Sara hoped Captain Prendick already had it set to his unique channel or frequency, so she pressed call.
“Um, I’m calling for Captain Prendick, or the Coast Guard, or anyone who can hear me. This is Sara Randhurst. I’m stranded on Rock Island in Lake Huron with my husband, baby, and five children. We’re under attack, and one of my children was…” The words wouldn’t come out. “We need immediate help.”
She released the button and waited for a response. There was only silence.
“Please, we’re fighting for our lives. Can anyone hear me?”
More silence. Sara stared at the buttons, wondering which one to try, and then the radio squelched at her.
“Mrs. Randhurst, this is Captain Prendick, I read you, over.”
Sara felt like crying in relief.
“Captain, thank God, there are people on this island. They’re trying to kill us. You have to call for help.”
“Did I hear you correctly, Mrs. Randhurst? Someone is trying to kill you? That’s an uninhabited island, over.”
“Not anymore. Please. You have to hurry.”
“Is this some kind of joke, Mrs. Randhurst. There are stiff penalties for using a marine radio for pranks.”
“This isn’t a joke, Captain. I swear. We’re under attack. You have to believe me.”
Sara waited, hoping he would believe her.
“Do you know how to work the radio? Can you call the coast guard?”
“No. I don’t understand what any of these buttons mean.”
“I’ll call them right now. I’m in the area, only a few miles away, so I should be able to get there quickest. Can you make it to the spot where I dropped you off?”
Sara glanced into the black void of the woods, her hands shaking. “I don’t think so. We’re lost.”
“Do you have a compass?”
“Yes.”
“Follow it north-east. That’s where the beach is. If you reach the cliffs, you went too far north, so go further east. I’ll meet you there in an hour, maybe less.”
“Thank you, Captain. Please hurry.”
“I will. Over and out, Mrs. Randhurst.”
Sara held the walkie-talkie, wondering what to do next. Though she had a responsibility to Cindy and Tyrone, and a duty to get them to safety as soon as possible, Sara wasn’t going to leave without the others. But she couldn’t go after Martin and the kids by herself. She needed the Coast Guard, or the police, or a whole Army platoon to do that. And she certainly couldn’t do it dragging Cindy and Tyrone along. She had to get them on the boat before she searched for anyone else.
Hopefully, Captain Prendick would arrive with the cavalry.
Sara considered turning the dials, pressing a few buttons, to see if she might be able to raise the Coast Guard herself, but she was afraid she would change the setting and no longer be able to contact Prendick. Besides, there wasn’t time to play with the radio. Three cannibals had already found their campsite. Sara didn’t want to spend any more time here than necessary.
Just in case any of the others showed up, she found a notebook and left a message.
We went north-east, to the beach, to wait for the boat. Captain Prendick is coming with help. Hide nearby and wait for us to return. Sara, Tyrone, and Cindy.
She left the notebook open to that page, sitting on the ground near the fire. For a few seconds she wondered if maybe she should use a stick to point north-east, but her time in the woods had shown Sara how easy it was to lose your sense of direction.
Sara took a last, lingering look at John, his head askew and his red eyes staring off into infinity, and told the kids it was time to go.
Captain Edward Prendick got off the radio with the Coast Guard, and wondered if everything was going to work out okay.
Prendick considered himself a good man. He loved his mother, and visited her on every holiday, Labor Day and Valentine’s Day included, even though she lived out of state and it cost a fortune. He treated other people with decency and respect. He had an aquarium on board his boat, which contained a single goldfish, named Goldie, which he’d dutifully taken care of for more than five years.