When he reached the top of the bluff, he hauled himself onto the grass and kept low; the hotel was about a football field’s length away, and the land between was open except for the odd palm tree. Off to his right, on a grassy, flat patch of land, sat a dark helicopter. He recognized it as one of the only aircraft that ever left Guam for Skin Island.
He faced the double glass doors that led into the center of the building; they opened onto a covered verandah surrounded by hibiscus plants. A guard leaned on a sculpted column, smoking and reading a magazine. He didn’t have a rifle, but Jim did see a handgun strapped to his side. Not very vigilant, but all the same, Jim couldn’t just slip past him.
If Sophie was nearby, there was no sign of her. Maybe one of the other doors would be open, or a window. He could go around the side of the building, out of the guard’s line of view, find another way in. Just as he was about to make a dash for cover, the doors opened and he froze. It was another guard; they must have been changing shifts. Jim took the opportunity to run across the edge of the bluff until the corner of the first wing came between him and the front doors. He waited ten seconds, then sprinted to the wall. The first three windows he passed were locked, and the first door. He started to go on, but suddenly the door swung open and he was sure he’d be seen. But he still flattened himself against the wall, by the hinged side of the door, so that as it opened it came between him and the person walking out. They shoved the door so wide that it nearly crushed him, and he had to suck in his breath to avoid being hit.
There was a tiny alcove to his right, where the building bent inward before branching out into the next wing. Jim slipped inside just as the person at the door emerged; it was a girl with a mass of curly brown hair and she was followed by two other kids, both of them boys. They all looked to be sixteen or so, and were dressed in identical khakis and white polos, like a gospel choir.
“C’mon,” said the girl. “Before they do the morning rounds.”
“They’ll go looking for us,” said one of the boys, a gingerhaired, gangly fellow with a flashlight in his hand.
“Won’t matter. We’ll be clear across the island by then. Hurry, or we might lose him.”
They walked right past Jim, but the morning was still dark enough that he was hidden by shadow.
“Think he’s still hanging around?” asked the second boy. “What kind of idiot would come here?”
They’re looking for me. The feeling of unease he’d had all night doubled. Had they seen his plane land? Had Sophie’s mom sent them, or Sophie herself? He didn’t think it would be on Sophie’s behalf, to tell him she’d decided to stay on Skin Island and he could go home. They were taking too much care not to be seen by the guards; whatever their agenda was, it didn’t seem to coincide with the doctors’.
And what were a bunch of teenagers doing here anyway? He knew the facility had to do with medical research or something like it. Were they patients? Test subjects?
The door was swinging shut. The trio were still in sight, heading away from the front of the building and toward the trees, but their backs were to Jim. He stepped out of the alcove and lunged at the door, managing to get the tips of his fingers on the handle before it shut. He glanced back, heart missing a beat, but they hadn’t noticed him. Still, there was no time to relax in relief. He slipped into the building and softly shut the door. It locked behind him.
Well, now what? He couldn’t very well wander up and down the halls, calling Sophie’s name. At least it was still early enough that most everyone should be asleep, for another hour anyway. He hoped the three kids had been an exception, and that no one else on Skin Island was such an early riser. What if they made it to the airstrip and found his plane, but not him? Would they tell someone, launch a search? There were just too many variables, too much risk.
He did a harried and not very thorough search. The rooms here were all labs or storage, all of them empty and quiet, though the lights in the hall were still lit. He grew less cautious as time progressed, both because it seemed unlikely that there was anyone awake, and because he knew he was running out of time.
He reached the last door in the hall before it opened to the atrium, and told himself that if Sophie wasn’t in it, then he’d leave. I tried. That’s good enough.
He opened the door and found himself in a room lit with blue light, just bright enough to see the sleeping girl on the hospital bed. His heart stopped. Sophie.
He crossed the room in two strides and wrapped his hand around her wrist. Her pulse was very faint, but it was there. He breathed out in relief. For a moment, he’d thought she was dead, she lay so still.
“What did they do to you?” he murmured. He ran his fingers through her hair. “Sophie?”
She did not stir. There was a metal stand beside her, and on it hung a bag of clear liquid that pumped into her arm through a plastic tube. He looked around, frantic, as if there might be a nurse in the corner who could help him. But they were alone. He looked back at Sophie. She was hardly breathing. I knew this was a bad idea, I knew it from the start. Had she been hurt? Perhaps the IV was meant to help her—but if so, that meant someone here had to have been the one who hurt her. Nicholas? The scientists or the guards? He locked his hands on the back of his neck and stared from Sophie to the door in agitation, then made a snap decision.
He clamped his teeth together and pulled on the tube, and it snickered out of her arm. He felt ill, and his head spun—he had never been one for hospitals and needles. But he forced himself to stay steady as he scooped Sophie into his arms. She was astonishingly light, or else he was running on an extra surge of adrenaline. His heart beat so wildly that he was surprised she didn’t feel it and wake up.
“I’m getting you out of here,” he whispered. She was wearing a thin white hospital gown, and he could feel every curve of her body through it. Whatever drugs they’d given her, they must have been powerful. She seemed to be halfway into a coma.
Jim kicked open the door and burst into the hallway. Now his only ally was speed; there was no way he could sneak around with Sophie in his arms. If she would only wake up, she could walk and they might have a better chance, but even as he ran down the hallway she slept on, her head bouncing against his chest.
He went out the same door he’d come in by, though he had to pause to click the lock. Outside, it was full morning. The sky was blue, but the building still cast a long shadow over the bluff, giving them a modicum of cover should anyone glance their way. He couldn’t run very well with her in his arms, but still he tried, and he made it to the cover of a wide patch of bamboo without being spotted.
“Hang in there, Crue,” he whispered to Sophie. She groaned and flexed her fingers, and he waited to see if she’d open her eyes, but though her lashes fluttered they stayed sealed. “I’ll get you out of here, I swear.”
NINE SOPHIE
Sophie wasn’t entirely certain that she was awake; though she felt conscious, her eyes refused to open, as if her eyelids had been glued together. Light probed at them, red and white and painful. Her throat felt packed with cotton and her tongue weighed like a brick. A strange sensation flooded her body, almost as if she were floating. Her head was heavy and immobile, but the rest of her felt light and airy as a dollop of whipped cream. Still, her body refused to obey her mental commands to move. It was as if someone had disconnected her brain, left a wire hanging loose somewhere. She was aware of herself but had no control.