Marla was struck by how white his teeth looked, just like a shark’s. They reminded her of Welland, looking for all the world like he might devour her as he’d questioned her in his office. Your chariot awaits, he’d said on the quay before she boarded the Sentry Maiden, the same boat that killed those innocent people and crippled poor Pietro. The boat, of course, the bloody boat.
“Why can’t we just take the boat! Sail her way from the island?”
“We thought about it,” Adam replied, “but the jetty is so heavily guarded that it would mean involving a couple more of the guys. And frankly…”
“Frankly, we’d be fucked over before we even pulled anchor,” finished Jessie. “Not a trustworthy bunch, Fowler’s men. Present company excepted of course.”
Adam smiled again, eyes twinkling. Marla channeled thoughts of cold winter days in a desperate attempt to prevent herself from blushing. It didn’t work.
Jessie smirked at her and said, “Trust me, Fowler’s gonna be furious that we’re locked up in here. While he tries to bust us out, hopefully a few vessels will pick up our distress call—the bigger the better.”
With that, Jessie returned to the kitchen and began rifling through Marla’s backpack in search of something edible.
“Anyone hungry? Come on lovers, we can’t explore a big old house like this on empty stomachs.”
The house was massive, with each room revealing another doorway and each hallway or landing giving access to yet more rooms. Twice now, Marla and Adam had to retrace their steps to avoid getting lost, such was the labyrinthine complexity of the structure. Jessie had set up shop in the kitchen, busily preparing a meal from the unbranded canned and dried goods Vincent had generously donated to their cause. Enough food to feed a small army, Jessie had remarked, and she wasn’t wrong. At this, Marla felt a sudden pang of guilt somewhere between her heart and her windpipe, thinking now of Vincent. She’d abandoned him, left him in his lighthouse to fend for himself and Pietro. Surely that made her as bad as those who’d forced him to stay there all these years—and surely she could’ve found a way to bring the old man along with them. If the island was as much of a threat as Jessie made it out to be, then Vincent was in danger too. As she clutched the cool hard surface of the carved wooden banister, Marla made a mental oath to help get Vincent away from this place just as soon as help reached them. Feeling invigorated from her new found determination, she began another ascent up the stairs and into the uncharted reaches of the Big House.
When they reached the next landing, Adam stopped still. Marla assumed he was being gallant—her breathing was rather heavy as they scaled the stairs.
“You don’t have to wait for me,” she said breathlessly, “I’m right behind you.”
His hazel eyes twinkled in the half-light. “Listen. I just wanted to apologize…”
Don’t make me do this, not now, not here, thought Marla but the only words that would come were, “Apologize? For what? You don’t have to…”
“We… I shouldn’t have played you like that. I can tell you’re pissed about it, and I don’t blame you.”
He winced a little, as if remembering the way she’d looked at him after her grilling in Fowler’s office. That harsh dressing down with her eyes. He’d known she meant it. And now, even with his face part obscured by shadows, Marla could see how very carefully he was choosing his words.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry, that’s all. We just couldn’t be sure… I mean the timing of your coming to the island; Jessie said we should play it careful like.”
She was impressed. He was doing well.
“And you do everything Jessie tells you to?”
Adam smiled goofily. The flush on Marla’s neck and chest indicated she’d already forgiven him for whatever sins he’d visited upon her.
“Pretty much, yeah.”
Their laughter broke the thin veil of remaining tension between them. Marla climbed the rest of the steps to the landing.
“I don’t know, Adam. Think I’d prefer Fowler as a boss over Jessie any day. She’s such a bully.”
Adam laughed again, an infectious sound, and nodded his agreement about Jessie, his harsh taskmistress.
Drawing level with him on the landing, Marla said, “Can I just ask one thing. About you and Jessie?”
His eyes darted from left to right as he re-read the question in his mind then found an answer.
“Oh we’re not together if that’s what you mean…”
“No, nothing like that,” Marla said matter of factly, giving him cause to flush this time. “I just wondered. Jessie’s conspiracy theories about this place, about people going missing, about what happened to Pietro and the boat…”
“Yes?”
“Do you believe her?”
Those hazel eyes narrowed and Adam did not hesitate.
“Oh I believe her. Implicitly. And so should you.”
Marla felt a chill on the nape of her neck, then heard a distant banging noise echoing through the maze of nooks and crannies that made up the house. Jessie in the kitchen? No, that was on the other side of the building. This sound—and there it was again, bang, only louder this time—was coming from above. Fowler’s men, come to gun them down and throw their bodies into the sea? Her brain conjured a series of weak points in the structure of the house; an unprotected skylight rotting in its frame, a dry rot-infested nesting hole beneath the eaves, just large enough for a man to wriggle through…
Peering up the stairs to see how high they’d climbed, Marla and Adam could see one last door ahead.
“The attic. It’s coming from the attic,” he said.
Slowly, and without further conversation, Marla followed Adam up the stairs, wincing painfully as the old wood of the steps near the top creaked loudly beneath their feet.
As the banging sound continued from behind the door, Adam carefully tried the door handle. Locked. He crouched down by the door to examine the mechanism; it was a sturdy security lock, with no keyhole for him to pick at in order to gain access. He weighed up the options; on the one hand if the banging noise was that of an intruder, this locked door provided a useful obstacle. On the other, if the banging were the result of a faulty shutter or unsecured part of the building he’d be better off checking it out and remedying the problem. Relaying his thoughts to Marla in quiet whispers, they quickly agreed it would be better for them to find out either way. It was important to keep the door intact so they could barricade it safely after locating the source of the banging. Rather than kicking the door down, Adam took a penknife from his pocket and set to work on dismantling the door handle. Marla watched intently as he set about his work. Adam gritted his teeth as he tried to work the point of the blade into the rear of the door handle housing. The blade skidded away, almost snapping shut on his fingers. It was fiddly work and looked like it might take him all night. His grunting escalated, echoing off the walls as the metal plate behind the door handle refused to yield to his advances. Then, Marla’s breathing stopped as she heard the sharp creak of the step behind her. At the sudden touch of a hand on her shoulder she squealed in surprise, causing Adam to drop his knife and damn near jump right out of his skin.
“Jessie! Don’t sneak up on me like that, Christ!”
Panic over, Marla noticed the flecks of tomato sauce on Jessie’s clothes and caught the first whiff of something edible from downstairs.
“Didn’t mean to startle you girl. Chill out. I called to you guys—you didn’t hear me?”
Adam and Marla both shook their heads at Jessie, who stood looking matronly surrounded by the scent of hot food, which had followed her up the stairs and onto the landing.