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“Over there.” Tyler marched ahead. “I see one of them.”
He pushed through the dense undergrowth with some kind of unearthly determination, and it took everything I had to keep up with him.
We rounded a massive Pandanus palm that had to be a hundred years old. Wedged between two rocks was one of the bodies. The shattered branch next to him confirmed he’d hit the palm on the way down. He was facedown, with a bloody halo seeping into the soil around him. It was Clark. Not the man we needed.
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. I couldn’t shake the image of Clark jumping off that cliff. It had happened in an instant. His plummet was long enough to regret that decision, though. I wondered if he did.
We continued looking and found the second man, Briggs, fifteen feet away.
His broken body seemed to have embedded into the rocks he’d landed on, proving gravity was a nasty bitch when she wanted to be. He was sprawled backward, limbs splayed at impossible angles.
“Stay back.” Tyler shot me a fierce scowl. “You don’t want to see this.”
“You got that right.” Folding my arms, I leaned my back against one of the Pandanus palm branches and positioned myself so Tyler blocked most of my view of Briggs.
Tyler crouched over his battered body, and I cringed as he fished into the dead man’s tactical vest pockets. He turned to me. “Here.”
He tossed two protein bars my way.
“Hell, yes.” I yanked open a packet with my teeth and took a massive bite.
“Got a phone.” Tyler stepped away from the body but as he strode toward me, my moment of joy plummeted. The phone screen was cracked.
To my surprise, the screen lit up.
Tyler held the phone up, searching for a signal. “Damn, only one bar.”
I peered over his shoulder, watching the weak bar of reception to see if it got better.
“Only thirteen percent battery left,” he said. “Hopefully, that’s enough for one call.”
“Yeah, but it’s locked.”
Tyler marched back to Briggs and pressed the dead man’s broken finger to the screen. “Not anymore.”
“Gross, but clever.” I smirked.
"Survival doesn’t have room for squeamishness.”
“Huh. Remind me not to use fingerprint security for my phone.”
He chuckled. “Come on, let’s see if there’s a better signal on the beach.”
As we made a beeline for the ocean we could hear through the vegetation, Tyler devoured the second protein bar.
The sand was barely three feet wide and flanked by crashing waves and dense bush. It was beautiful and secluded, perfect for anyone wanting a romantic getaway, but this island was in the middle of nowhere. Anyone coming out this far would need a decent-sized fuel capacity, and that eliminated most pleasure motorboats.
Standing in the middle of the beach, Tyler made a phone call, and his back was rigid with tension as he held the phone to his ear. “Captain, it’s Tyler Kingsley.”
Relief washed through me as I heard shouts from the other end of the phone, but I couldn’t decipher the words.
“Yes, sir, we’re fine. Indiana is with me, but her dad was murdered. Listen, I don’t have time to explain. We are on a deserted island.” He spun to me. “Do you know the name of this island?”
“It’s Wombat Island. We’re on the eastern side.”
He relayed our position.
I could only hear half the conversation, but it was enough to send my heart racing.
