“That’s when I saw you,” Abigail said.
“That was really you?”
“Yes, I saw you that night. You were bleeding and you asked me who I was and then you ran away. You don’t remember that?”
“I do. Maybe. I didn’t know it was you. You … you looked … in my memory, you were standing there and your face was not human. I could tell you were a woman by your voice, but your face was something else. I remember a muzzle and yellow eyes. And then the next thing I remember is being in the woods all night long, thinking that there were wolves everywhere. And then it was dawn, and they came and found me. They gave me some kind of shot, and then I woke up here. I’ve been here ever since.”
She was crying again, great ratcheting sobs this time, and Abigail wished she could go to her. Instead, she occasionally made shushing sounds from across the room, not knowing if they were comforting. Jill eventually said, “Why are they doing this?”
“It’s punishment. And because they can.”
“But why are we here? What are they doing next?”
Abigail thought she knew what was coming. She’d been thinking it since she woke up in the blackness of this dungeon.
She didn’t know if she wanted to say the words out loud, but then she decided it could only help. They needed to be on the same page.
“I think they’re going to kill us, Jill,” she said. “It will probably be some sort of ritual, or a game, the way they’ve been playing a game ever since we both got here. But they are going to try to kill us. They can’t let us off this island.”
“What if we promise not to tell?” Jill said, and Abigail recognized that she was already bargaining with them. They weren’t even here, although they could be listening, and she was bargaining.
“Maybe,” Abigail said, and even saying that word out loud gave her a flicker of hope. “Maybe it’s all just a vicious game.”
“Besides, it’ll be our word against theirs. They’ll make it so no one will believe us.” Abigail could hear the rising optimism in Jill’s voice.
“Maybe,” Abigail said again, “but we can’t count on it. These are rich, powerful men and they can’t have us accusing them of what’s happened here. There’s a good chance they are planning on killing us. We should try to find a way to get off this island, if we can.”
Jill was crying again, quietly this time.
“But they can’t kill us and get away with it,” she said.
“They’ll find a way. They’re rich men, and they can arrange it.
There’ll be some kind of accident. Maybe an airplane crash or we drown. And there’ll be no witnesses who say otherwise. That’s why we need to survive. We need to tell this story.”
“Okay,” Jill said.
“If there’s an opportunity to run, with me or without me, take it.
Try to get away and hide somewhere on the island. Hide as long as possible and maybe you can outlast them.”
“But only if they’re really going to try and kill us, right?”
“Right,” Abigail said. “We don’t know what’s going to happen.”
Abigail listened to Jill breathe for a moment. Loud, damp breaths.
“Tell me your story,” Jill said. “Why are they after you, too?”
Abigail began to tell her, not really wanting to, but knowing that it was better if they kept talking. Hearing each other’s voice made it less scary. She told Jill about the one-night stand in California and how it had been a setup. She was still talking when she heard the hollow clip-clop of steps outside in the hallway, then the door was opening, light penetrating the darkness.
CHAPTER 26
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the sudden light, but Abigail could see Chip filling the doorway. He wore a light brown collared shirt with a green vest over it, his red hair seeming to glow. Jill began to scream. Abigail turned toward her, instinctually reaching out before being yanked back by the handcuffs. Jill, now that Abigail could see her, was still dressed in the bloodied nightgown she’d been wearing when Abigail had last seen her. Her hair was dirty and matted on one side with pine needles. Chip said nothing, but went toward Jill, and Abigail heard a cracking that sounded a little like a slap. Jill stopped screaming, her body stiffening.
Abigail was now screaming, too, as another man entered the room—the pilot with the lengthy blond hair, holding what looked like an electric razor in his hand. She batted at him with her free hand when he got close, but he easily dodged her. Abigail saw that his lips were wet. He struck her in the chest and she heard a loud crack, her body surging with pain. All her muscles froze, and strange lights flashed in her vision. She thought she was dead and in that brief moment was struck by the ridiculousness of her death.