John Sneeden
The Island
CHAPTER ONE
VICTOR COUDRIER WALKED briskly down the dark beach. Sweat covered his upper body, causing his T-shirt to cling to his torso. He always perspired when he was nervous, and tonight he was as nervous as he’d ever been.
Hearing voices ahead, he came to a stop. Two silhouettes walked toward him, and his pulse quickened in response. As they drew near, he saw it was a man and a woman holding hands and whispering to one another. Two lovers. Victor breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t the police. Pairs of officers patrolled the area after dark and wouldn’t have been happy to find a teen wandering around on his own.
As he set off again, Victor glanced at the ocean on his right. He had been so jittery that he hadn’t truly noticed it until now. As he watched, a tiny wave hit the shore and washed silently over the sand. Like most Caribbean bays, the water’s surface was as smooth as glass. The perfect conditions for what he and Antoine had planned.
The two French teens had journeyed to Terre-de-Haut with their parents. The four adults were staying at adjoining homes on a hill overlooking the bay, while Victor and Antoine stayed in a small detached bungalow just behind them. According to the leasing company, the bungalow had served as servant quarters in the early twentieth century.
Initially, Victor and Antoine had enjoyed their time on the island. Their days were filled with snorkeling over coral reefs, and their nights were spent roaming around town or watching movies at the bungalow. But after several days, the repetition grew old. And being adventuresome, Antoine suggested they raise the stakes. When Victor asked what he had in mind, Antoine unveiled a bold and risky plan to spice up their vacation. They would steal a boat from the local marina and venture out to L’Ilet à Cabrit, a small island at the outer edge of the bay. L’Ilet à Cabrit was sparsely populated, making it the ideal place to get away, drink, and explore.
Once Victor was on board with the idea, Antoine had revealed a surprisingly detailed course of action. After their parents left for dinner at an upscale restaurant in town, the two teens would set out in different directions. Antoine would travel to the marina to find a suitable boat. Taking one wouldn’t be difficult, he had determined. Terre-de-Haut had little crime, which meant many of the boat owners left their keys on board.
While Antoine secured their transportation, Victor had snuck into his parents’ rental house to steal a bottle of liquor. He had a key, so it was simply a matter of going inside and picking out what he wanted. Fortunately, his parents were heavy drinkers and wouldn’t miss a bottle.
Victor’s phone buzzed in his pocket, jarring him out of his thoughts. He looked at the lighted screen. Antoine’s message was short: Pier Three. White boat at the end on the left. Victor’s heart beat a little faster. They were really going to do it.
Victor picked up the pace. The sooner they got out onto the bay, the better he would feel. After coming around a promontory, he saw the marina’s boardwalk directly ahead. Cones of light shone down from poles situated at regular intervals. Victor stopped behind a palm tree and studied the area. A night manager was always on duty, but he made his rounds only at the top of every hour. That meant he wasn’t due for another twenty minutes or so. Still, Victor wanted to make sure the man hadn’t changed his routine.
Seeing no movement, Victor stepped onto the boardwalk and walked quickly down the wood planks, turning right at a sign that read 3. Now hidden from the marina office, he sprinted as fast as he could. As he neared the end of the dock, he saw a twenty-three-foot pearl-white powerboat with a black canopy. La Jeune Fille was printed in black letters along the hull.
Antoine emerged from under the canopy and made a gesture with his hand. “Welcome to our ship.”
After glancing down the dock one last time, Victor clambered over the gunwale.
“Did you get our adult beverage?” Antoine asked.
“Of course.” Victor set the backpack down on one of the seats.
“Let me see what you got.” Antoine unzipped one of the pockets and pulled out a bottle filled with amber-colored liquor. “Jose Cuervo Especial. Nice.”
Victor pushed the bottle back into the bag. “Let’s get going.”
“Easy, easy. No need to rush.” Antoine nodded toward the marina office. “Our pal with the beer gut just finished his rounds, so he won’t be back for a while.”
“No need to push our luck.”
Antoine placed a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down. We’re done. We made it.”
“We haven’t gotten away with anything yet. He might have seen me coming down the dock.”
Antoine shook his head. “If he had, then he’d be out here by now. Last I saw, he was playing video games in the back room. I could fire a gun out here, and he wouldn’t hear it. Besides, even if we did get caught, we’re teenagers. They’d slap us on the wrist and tell us not to do it again.”
“Dad wouldn’t slap me on the wrist. He’d ground me for several months.”
Antoine pointed at the bottle sticking out of the bag. “Don’t worry. Jose is going to make you feel better.”
“Well, the sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can partake.”
“On that we agree.”
After putting the bag away, Antoine settled into the driver’s seat and started the boat. Victor cringed when the engine roared to life, but after a moment’s reflection, he realized there was almost no chance the night manager could hear them. And even if he did, he would assume it was one of the local fishermen coming in.
Antoine guided the boat out of its slip then thrust the throttle forward slightly as they passed through the no-wake zone. About two hundred yards out, he opened the throttle completely, and the bow rose out of the water. A V-shaped wake appeared behind them as the boat shot out into the bay. “Yeah, baby!”
Although he was only fifteen, Antoine had a great deal of experience on the water. His father owned a small boat that they took out regularly along the Rhône River near Valence, France. That was one thing that made Victor more comfortable with their outing — Antoine knew boats as well as most people knew cars.
Their destination was L’Ilet à Cabrit, but Victor soon realized they weren’t traveling in that direction. Instead, Antoine had directed the boat to the northwest of the islet.
“What are you doing?” Victor asked.
“There has been a change in plans.” A wry smile played on his face.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“Whatever you have in mind, I didn’t agree to it.”
Antoine looked over at him with a smile. “Come on. You really thought it would be exciting to just sit on the beach at L’Ilet à Cabrit? We could do that back at our place.”
Victor felt a wave of anger rise inside of him. Antoine was an adrenaline junkie who seemed to thrive on anything that might lead to danger. He had no safety filter, nor did he seem to care about consequences. Victor knew he needed to gain control right now, or Antoine would find a way to get them into serious trouble.
“Stop the boat,” Victor said.
“Look, we’re almost there.” Antoine pointed ahead. “It’s just a little—”
“I said stop the boat.”
Antoine throttled back and slowed the craft to a crawl. “Please, let me just show you what I have in mind. I promise there is zero chance we’ll get into trouble. Zero. If anything, this will be safer because there won’t be as many people around.”
Victor frowned. “What do you mean there won’t be as many people around?”
“Actually, I don’t think there will be any people around.”