“I know what you’re saying,” Abigail said. “But if it’s financed by billionaires, I guess they don’t care if they lose money. And I guess most billionaires are men.”
“Your husband is one of the financiers, I guess.”
“I actually don’t know too much about it, but yes. I think it was created as a place for tech people to go that doesn’t have screens.
A place to get back in touch with nature, and even though it’s open to other people, it’s not really a regular business.”
“That makes sense,” Eric said. “But I still think there’s something else creepy going on. What if it really was Jill Greenly we saw, and they’re lying about her?”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Abigail said. “If it really was Jill, then maybe she was attacked by her husband, and maybe he followed her into the woods and killed her and the resort is covering it up because they don’t want a scandal. Or maybe because her husband paid them off. I just don’t know. All I know is that I need to get off this island.”
Abigail was aware that she hadn’t mentioned Porter, Jill’s old boyfriend, who was, coincidentally, on the island as well.
“When are you leaving?” Eric said.
Abigail turned to look at him and realized that he’d slid a little way toward her so that they were only about ten feet apart. She didn’t say anything, but she began to walk a little faster.
“Bruce is making arrangements now. We’re leaving this afternoon.”
Eric nodded. “That makes sense.”
They walked in silence for a moment. Abigail could now see the open lawn through the trees, and she heard a noise, a whoosh followed by what sounded like an ax hitting wood. She realized almost immediately that it was someone shooting arrows at the targets she’d seen being set up.
“How long will you stay?” Abigail asked Eric as they stepped from the woods back out onto the lawn.
“Two more days, I guess. Do you want me to let you know if I find out anything more?”
“Sure,” she said, not knowing if it was the right thing to say, if he would read it as an invitation to continue their relationship. But she didn’t really care. If he found out something, she’d want to know.
And all the fear and anger she’d felt toward him earlier seemed to have disappeared.
She heard another whoosh, followed by the thock of an arrow hitting the target. There were two men holding bows, and two staff members watching them. She was suddenly annoyed by the whole existence of this resort, the idea of adults coming to a place to pretend they were at some kind of summer camp, but a summer camp with gourmet food and constant alcohol.
“Is that your husband?” Eric said. Abigail looked up the hill and could make out Bruce coming down, recognizable by his awkward, long-limbed gait.
“Yep,” Abigail said. They were alongside Eric’s bunk now and he was heading toward the door.
“Again, I’m sorry for all I put you through,” he said. “I hope you get home safe.”
“What do you mean?” Abigail said to Bruce.
“They’re booked, but they can come early tomorrow morning.”
They were back in their bunk together. Bruce was changing his shirt. He’d already let her have it for going out into the woods by herself, and now he was letting her know that the plane couldn’t come that day.
“I don’t understand,” Abigail said. “It’s such a short flight. I mean, there must be some way to get off this island today.”
“I’m sorry. Chip felt terrible, too, but apparently one of their planes is out of commission, and they’re backed up.”
“Jesus,” Abigail said.
“Don’t have a fit, Abigail. They’re coming early tomorrow morning. You’ll just have to rough it here one more night.” He smiled sarcastically at her, and Abigail felt an urge to rush at him, shove him in the chest. It wasn’t that the plane couldn’t come, it was the way he was so nonchalant about it. “Why don’t we go swimming, or, hey, I’ll even go back into the woods with you if you want,” he said.
“Look,” Abigail said. “Listen to me for a moment.”
Bruce, who had been rummaging through his suitcase, turned and looked at Abigail, his lips pressed together and his brow furrowed.
“This place is freaking me out. It’s not just seeing Jill last night —and, yes, I am pretty fucking sure that the woman I saw was Jill —it’s everything else. First of all, there’s no way that this place is a viable business. There’re about twenty guests, all men, all your friends, and every time I turn around there’s some new staff person coming out of the woodwork. I mean, tell me what this place is all about.”