Scar Island(16)

“What about the guy, though? Won’t he notice … something?”

Jonathan shook his head. “When I got dropped off, Mr. Vander didn’t even talk to him. He stood in the shadows the whole time.”

Sebastian rubbed his chin roughly with his hand.

“But still …”

“We have Mr. Vander’s jacket and hat,” Jonathan said. “Well, we could get his jacket and hat.” Some kid in the shadows gasped, but Jonathan kept going. “And if Gerald stood on a stool or something, he’d be just as tall. Wearing that hat and jacket, back here in the shadows …”

“Let’s do it.” Sebastian’s voice was quick and bossy. “Benny, run and grab the mailbag. Gerald, stay here. Everyone else get around the corner out of sight. New kid, come with me.”

There was only a momentary pause and then everyone scrambled. Colin was the only one who stayed where he was.

“Thith ith tho thtupid,” he said to no one in particular. Sebastian grabbed him roughly by his shirt and jerked him around the corner so hard his head snapped back on his neck. He slammed him up against the stone wall. He pressed his forearm hard into Colin’s chest and leaned in close to his face.

“Don’t mess this up for the rest of us, you little jerk,” Sebastian growled. “You do, you’re dead.”

“Hey,” Jonathan said. “Take it easy, man. He’s cool.”

Sebastian snorted. “There’s nothing cool about this little dweeb,” he said.

“Come on,” Jonathan said. “Let him go. We gotta hurry.”

Sebastian gave Colin one last glare, then followed Jonathan out toward the heap of bodies. They stood together for a second, looking at the corpse of Mr. Vander lying in the middle of the pile.

“You really think we can do this, Johnny?”

“Jonathan. And it’s worth a try.”

There was no time to be queasy or delicate. Sebastian knelt down next to the tall, still form and started pulling at his long, blue coat.

“Damn! It’s buttoned! Help me, will you?”

Together they frantically yanked the buttons through their holes. Jonathan kept his eyes on his fingers and away from the dead man’s face. They did wander once, though—he saw the mouth half-open, a bit of dry gray tongue poking out, saw a raindrop roll off the forehead, saw the swirling storm above reflected in the cloudy, unfocused eyes—and he almost lost it. His breath caught, his fingers fumbled … but he blinked and looked away and kept going.

With the buttons undone, the boys started pulling the arms out of the sleeves. Mr. Vander’s arms were incredibly heavy and stiff. Sebastian and Jonathan tugged and wiggled and jerked. Mr. Vander’s head lolled and rocked from side to side, loose and floppy. Jonathan clenched his stomach and kept his eyes on his work.

“God,” Sebastian panted. “And I thought I hated this guy when he was alive!”

They got one arm loose and, with a grunting heave, they rolled Mr. Vander over onto his stomach to work on the other. His face smacked against the stone ground with a sickening thud. Sebastian grabbed the cuff of the second sleeve and gave it a swift yank like a magician whipping the tablecloth off a table full of dishes. The jacket pulled free and Sebastian fell back onto his butt in a puddle.

“Grab his hat, Johnny.”

They raced back toward the gate, Jonathan holding the hat, and the coat stuffed under Sebastian’s arm.

Gerald stood alone, scratching at his neck and looking uncomfortable.

“Put this on!” Sebastian hollered, tossing Mr. Vander’s jacket to him. He ducked low and peered out the gate. “He’s almost here!”

“Man, I don’t know if I want to put on a dead guy’s coat.”

Sebastian shot him a dark look.

“Don’t put it on and you’ll be a dead guy. Do it. All you gotta do is stand here in the shadows. Big deal.”

Benny ran up huffing and puffing, a canvas bag slung over his shoulder. He tossed it on the ground at Sebastian’s feet.

Gerald grimaced and pulled the long coat on. He pinched it between his fingers like a dirty diaper. The bottom of the coat piled on the ground. Jonathan gave him an apologetic look and handed him the hat. Gerald closed his eyes and plopped it on his head. It dropped down onto his ears.

Sebastian stepped back to take a look at him. Behind them the sound of the boat got louder.

“Shoot!” Sebastian exclaimed. “We forgot the stool! You’re way too short!” He looked frantically around for something for Gerald to stand on.

Jonathan thought fast. He dropped to his hands and knees in the shadows just inside the gate.

“He can stand on me,” he said. “But make sure the coat covers me up.”

Sebastian pulled Gerald over and he stepped gingerly up onto Jonathan’s back. He was a lot heavier than Jonathan had expected. The hard stone blocks ground into his kneecaps. He felt Sebastian adjusting the long trench coat as best he could to cover him.

“Wait!” Gerald protested. “How am I gonna get the mailbag? And give him ours?”

Outside, the motor got louder, then quieter as the gas was cut back.

“Sebastian!” Jonathan hissed from the ground. “You do the bags. And try to stand between him and us!”

“All right.”