Scar Island(36)

“The next what?”

The man pulled the pipe out of his mouth and shot Sebastian a withering look.

“The next order, boy. I assume ye all will still be wanting to eat next week, aye?”

Sebastian looked desperately up at Gerald, then over to Jonathan. Jonathan’s stomach twisted into a nervous tangle.

“Oh, yeah, about that,” Jonathan said, licking his lips. “The Admiral’s a little behind. He’s kinda sick, see. Most of us are. Bad flu going around. He told us to tell you that he’ll be sending you next week’s order in the mail in a couple days.”

The man squinted and looked back and forth between Jonathan and the overcoated figure in the gateway. He popped the pipe back into his mouth and blew out a few little clouds of thick smoke.

“All right. Tell him to see that he does, then. I ain’t coming all the way out to this damned rock to ask him what he wants.”

“Yes, sir.”

With a grunt the man heaved on the ramp, and Jonathan and Sebastian helped him pull it back on board the boat. The boat’s motor roared and gurgled and the boat throttled away through the waves toward the mainland. Sebastian and Jonathan stood shoulder to shoulder, watching it go.

“Nice save, Johnny,” Sebastian said.

“No problem,” Jonathan replied, hefting the new mailbag onto his shoulder. “And it’s Jonathan.”

They turned and walked up the stairs. The rest of the boys fell in behind them. In the courtyard, they swung the gate closed. The boat was already out of earshot, nothing more than a receding white-trailed dot in the green sea.

The shipment was piled just inside the gate. A few big burlap sacks of flour and oatmeal and rice. A dozen or so big crates, and some smaller boxes.

“Okay, everyone grab something,” Sebastian ordered. He picked up the sword where he’d left it leaning against the wall. “We’ll move everything into—”

“Sebastian! Sebastian!” It was Benny’s frantic voice, screaming from across the courtyard. He was ramming the door to the dining room with one shoulder and calling back over the other. Sebastian sprinted across the courtyard with Jonathan, the rest of the boys following close behind.

“It’s Colin!” Benny shouted as they ran up. “He’s going nuts!”

They all crowded around the big windows that looked into the dining room.

Colin stood panting in the middle of the room, by the Sinner’s Sorrow. In his hands he was holding the ax they used to chop the wood for the kitchen stove. Jonathan wasn’t sure what he was doing until another boy gasped, “Look at the Sinner’s Sorrow!”

The wooden monster was nearly in ruin. Its top rail was completely gone, smashed and shredded. The dreaded kneeling rail was almost as bad, torn up and splintered by the sharp blade of the ax. Jason stood in the distant doorway to the kitchen, peeking timidly out.

“Stop!” Sebastian shouted, his voice choked with fury.

Colin’s sneaky smile came and went, and he raised the ax high above his head.

“Don’t!” Sebastian roared, but the ax came rushing down and bit again into the Sorrow’s bottom rail. Through the window they heard the heavy thwock as it hit home, taking another bite out of the dark wood.

Sebastian dug through his pockets and pulled out the ring of keys and fumbled with them, stepping to the door. Colin raised the ax and again brought it down.

“You’re dead, Colin!” Sebastian screamed, jingling the keys and trying to find the right one. “Dead!”

The ax flashed again and with a final crack the kneeling rail split and broke in half. Colin dropped the ax and looked toward the window where they all stood watching. His smile flitted to and from his face, shadowy and sad.

Then Colin walked quickly over to the doorway that led into the depths of Slabhenge’s dark labyrinth. By the doorway sat an unlit lantern and a lumpy sack and the Admiral’s fancy hat. He picked up the lantern and the sack, then pulled the hat onto his head and looked back over his shoulder.

“Stop!” Sebastian shouted, finally jamming the right key in the door and swinging it furiously open. But Colin just threw the sack over his shoulder, tossed a two-fingered salute at the crowd from the brim of the Admiral’s hat, and disappeared through the doorway.

All the others came rushing in. Sebastian sprinted to the doorway but stopped at the edge of the windowless darkness.

“Come back, you little jerk!” he hollered into the hallway, but the only answer was his own hollowly echoing voice. His lungs were heaving. He wiped at the corners of his mouth with his arm. “Bring me a lantern,” he barked over his shoulder.

“No,” Jonathan said. “Let him go.”

Sebastian spun around.

“Let him go?! Why?”

Jonathan shrugged, thinking fast.

“What’s the point? Where’s he gonna go? We’re in a prison on an island.”

Sebastian’s top lip snarled like a lion about to roar. He shook his head again, furious breaths hissing through his nose. The Scars all waited in silence.

“Should I get a lantern?” Benny whined.

Sebastian’s jaw clenched. He shook his head and spit angrily onto the floor. “Don’t bother,” he finally seethed. “There’s nowhere for him to run. He’s dead.” He turned his face back to the doorway and shouted at the top of his lungs. “You hear that, Colin? You’re dead! Have fun living with the rats!”