Less than two minutes later, as they were climbing a small rise behind the cabin, Brandon heard the unmistakable sound of a car engine in the distance. He caught Miss Collins’s gaze, and saw from the surprise on her face that she’d heard it, too.
29
The answer to Dominic’s problem was right in front of him. Perhaps if he’d been feeling better, he would have seen it sooner. As it was, it took him nearly thirty minutes to realize what he’d been staring at was a way to prevent him from exposing the others to his disease-ridden body.
He’d been sitting on the beach, looking out at the ocean. With each passing minute, the water pulled farther and farther back from the island.
The tide was moving out.
He’d been on the island long enough to know low tide was still a few hours off. Though he had dismissed swimming out as an option before, he hadn’t taken into consideration an assist from the receding ocean. The tide could do a lot of the work for him, and he could then use what energy he saved to swim out into the current that swept past the island toward the mainland.
As he stared at the water, wondering if he could really do it, he coughed, deep and violent. Phlegm flew out of his mouth and landed on the beach. It was a blood-speckled, sickly yellow blob. He covered it with dirt and rose to his feet. The longer he waited, the less chance he had at succeeding.
The water was warm on his bare feet. He was tempted to leave behind the shirt and shorts he was wearing, but he knew the virus could very well be clinging to their fibers.
He looked back. His shoes were sitting near the supplies he’d been given. He should take those.
The supplies, too, he thought. Everything could be tainted.
But there was no way he could haul it all out with him. Perhaps he should write a message in the sand, warning people to stay away.
Robert will figure it out, he told himself, as he stepped farther into the surf.
After delivering Dominic’s breakfast, Robert returned to the hotel to find a small group gathered in the bar, discussing the possibility of returning to the mainland.
When he realized what was going on, he said, “Do you not get it? Did you not see what’s been going on everywhere else?”
He looked at the TV. Though the news channels had gone off the air, one of the movie channels was still broadcasting as if nothing was wrong. Its current selection: an old black and white gangster film.
“It can’t be everywhere,” one of the men at the table said.
“Maybe not, but it’s in Costa Rica. Where else are you going to go?” Robert asked.
The man shared a look with the others. “We thought we’d head north. For Texas.”
Robert stared at him. “And how exactly are you going to get there?”
“One of the boats.”
“First off, due north is Cuba, not Texas. And even if you did take a boat, which is not going to happen, there’s not enough gas on the island to even get you as far north as the Nicaraguan border, let alone all the way to the US.”
This last fact seemed to throw a wrench into the group’s plans. They grumbled for a few more minutes, then scattered, no doubt hoping to come up with an alternative idea.
Robert found Renee in the office, and they went over the inventory list.
“So this gives us, what? A month before we run out of food?”
“Maybe six weeks if we don’t do anything else,” she said. “But once we start fishing, we should be fine.”
He nodded. The sea would become their main food supplier if they were going to be on the island for an extended period of time. He and Dominic had discussed using the scuba boats to fish beyond the island, but had agreed it would be a good idea to wait until everyone settled in and got used to the idea they weren’t on vacation anymore.
“We’ll start up in a few days,” he told her. “Do we know if there’s anyone who can—”
“Come in, base,” a scratchy voice over the radio speaker said.
Robert snatched up the mic. “This is base. Who’s this?”
“Chuck Tyler.”
“Go ahead, Chuck.”
“Um, I think there’s someone in the water.”
Robert and Renee shared a puzzled look. “A body?”
“No, swimming. Away from the island.” A pause. “I think it might be Dominic,” Tyler said.
“Dominic?”
“Looks like whoever it is came straight out from his beach.”
Robert was sure Tyler had his geography wrong, and was about to say so when he remembered something from his visit with Dominic that morning.
His friend nowhere to be seen. Robert calling him, his panic growing. Then Dominic stepping out from behind a rock and telling him to relax, that he was just relieving himself.
Was that really what he’d been doing? He could have answered Robert even if he was in the middle of taking a piss. And why had Dominic stayed by the rocks while they’d talked? On other occasions, he’d always come a lot closer so conversation could be easier. And he had looked tired that morning. Robert had assumed that was from worry over his ordeal, but could it have been something else?
“Oh, my God,” he said.
He grabbed a spare walkie-talkie and raced out of the office.
“Where are you going?” Renee called after him.
Not answering, he ran through the bar and down the path to the bay. The two speedboats rocked calmly in the water next to the dock. He untied the lines mooring the nearest one and jumped on board. The engine rumbled to life on the first try, and instead of easing the boat away from the pier like everyone was supposed to do, he gave it all he could, and the boat shot away from shore like a rocket.
Dominic’s Beach was on the opposite side of the island from the bay. So even going all out, it took Robert fifteen minutes to get there. As the beach came into view, he raised the walkie-talkie to his mouth.
“Come in, Chuck.”
“This is Chuck.”
“Give me an update.”
“That you in the boat?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s a lot farther out now. Ahead and to your left. Uh, what is that? Port?”
“How far?”
“A couple football fields, I think. Hard to tell.”
Robert veered a few degrees to port. “Am I on line with him now?”
“A little bit more.”
Robert turned the wheel again.
“That’s it,” Chuck said.
“Give me a heads-up when I’m getting close.”
“You got it.”
Keeping his speed down so that he didn’t accidentally run over his friend in the water, Robert guided the boat carefully across the swells.
It wasn’t long before Chuck’s voice came over the radio again. “Slow down. You’re almost there. Right in front of you, maybe a hundred feet.”
Robert craned his neck, searching the water ahead. At first, he didn’t see anything, then a swell passed by and suddenly there was Dominic. Robert brought the boat up alongside his friend and cut the engine.
Dominic’s arms moved back and forth in a less-than-successful attempt to keep his head above water. He looked exhausted, his eyelids half closed.
Robert leaned over the side and reached out. “Give me your hand.”
Dominic bobbed up so that his mouth was above the waterline. “No. I’m…” The lower half of his face slipped into the water again, and it took a moment before he could get his mouth clear. “I’m sick. You’ll catch it.”
His hand still out, Robert said, “You’re fine. You just need some rest.”
“Robert, I’m sick. I’ve been throwing up and…” Under the water, then up again. “And coughing. I wanted…wanted to get…” He nearly choked as a wave slapped into his face. “I’m trying to get away so no one else…gets it. Trying to get to the current.”