Virals(35)

"From what I can see without moving anything," I said, "she was young."

"How young?" Hi.

"Less than twenty years old." I felt numb.

"Like Katherine Heaton," Shelton whispered.

Attaching a name to the bones made the tragedy real. This wasn't an experiment, an adventure for a group of high school science junkies. I was kneeling in the lonely, unmarked grave of a young woman.

A teenager long ago murdered, buried, and forgotten.

"It's time to call the cops." Hi's voice held not a trace of humor.

I nodded. "The sun is setting. Take as many pictures as you can before dark."

Ben, Shelton, and I started gathering equipment. I was pulling a trowel from the earth when I heard a soft clink.

And knew right away.

Sifting dirt with my fingers, I discovered what my blade had struck.

"Holy Hell."

The others turned to look.

"This should close the loop." I held my find high. It glinted in the long ginger rays of the setting sun.

A second dog tag, twin to the one in my pocket.

Legible.

Francis P. Heaton.

The last light of day faded to gray.

I wanted to cry. To open the floodgates and unleash a torrent of sobs. But I wouldn't. Not in this lifetime. Not ever.

Clamping my jaw, I backhanded a tear from my cheek. I added the newly unearthed tag to my Ziploc, and started shoving tools into the duffel. Stakes. String. A shovel. A trowel.

The boys were uncomfortable in the way males are when confronted by female emotion. Unsure how to react, what to say, they simply ignored me.

Sorrow coursed through my body. Katherine Heaton was dead. I'd uncovered her bones. There would be no magical happy ending.

Inevitably, the sorrow congealed into fury. Then hardened into resolve.

The crime was official: murder most foul. Now it was time to expose the murderer.

I vowed silently, speaking to Katherine. Someone will pay for this outrage. Four decades of time will make no difference. Justice will prevail.

My promise was cut short.

Men with guns had come to kill us.





CHAPTER 25


"You guys hear that?" Shelton asked.

"Hear what?" Hi froze, iPhone extended toward the pit.

"Listen."

Everyone went still, ears sifting the forest sounds. Night had fallen. My eyes weren't ready. I could barely see beyond my hand.

At first, nothing but crickets, frogs, the whine of a mosquito.

Then a familiar riot of hoots and barks.

As my vision adjusted, I noticed movement among the branches at the clearing's edge.

"Something spooked the monkeys," Ben said.

The primates scurried through the trees, panicked, uncertain of the source of danger. Young males barked and lunged in our direction, then turned and performed for the forest at their backs.

"They seem confused," Hi noted.

"The males are giving threat displays," I said. "But they don't know where to direct them."

"Threatened by what?" Ben asked.

"Can we please get out of here?" Shelton had definitely had enough. "It's pitch dark, monkeys are screaming at us, and we're standing next to an open grave."

"Calm down," Ben said. "I brought a flashlight--"

Clank. Clank.

"What was that?" I whispered.

The noise was not natural to the forest. Somewhere close by metal had struck metal.

"The dogs?" Hi sounded almost as hyper as Shelton. "Somewhere nearby?"

"No," I whispered. "We'd never hear the pack moving through the trees. And what could they clang?"

Swish.

Thwak!

A string of curses followed.

My heart jumped a gear. Someone was out there. And we stood, tools in hand, over the recently uncovered skeleton of a murder victim.

Instinctively, the four of us knotted close.

The startled primates disappeared into the foliage. Whoever was out there had accidentally driven them to our location, warning us.

The woods went silent.

"What should we do?" mouthed Shelton. A three-quarter moon was rising and I could just make out my companions. Beyond them, nothing but black.

I gestured for silence. We needed to pinpoint the source of the noise. Pulse thumping, I held my breath and listened.

Pop!

My head swiveled.

Pop!

One-eighty from the first.

Shit! More than one!

Questions winged in my brain.

Why no lights? Why two directions? How many? Who?

LIRI personnel never prowled the island at night. Sneaking through the woods without a flashlight was not normal behavior.

Hi was on the same page.

"This is wrong! Let's bail!"

"Quiet!" Ben hissed.

Too late.

"Over there!" A male voice. Deep. "In the clearing!"

Branches crashed. Feet pounded. Three beams flared to life, probed the darkness. A motor fired up.

The beams closed in.

"Run!" I shout-hissed. "To the boat!"

I didn't know where the path was or how to find it. But I understood one thing with bone-deep certainty. Capture wasn't an option.