He kept a steady pace, and he didn’t glance behind him. Given that Jack was nearly his height and that the wild man looked like a malnourished skeleton, it was impressive that he hadn’t stopped to rest.
She wished she could ask the others what they thought, though how they’d know anything more than Claire knew... but she wished she could talk about it, if only to wonder how long the wild man had been hiding in the woods by the shore, waiting for Jack.
Had he been there when the three of them returned to the dock?
Did he know they were hiding too? Did he guess they werefollowing him? He hadn’t looked back. Not once, even though they’d stepped on a few twigs and knocked aside a few pebbles, despite how careful they were being.
She wouldn’t have been at all surprised if he knew they were there but simply didn’t care. Since they’d obviously been hiding from Jack, the wild man might have reasoned that they weren’t likely to rescue him.
Or maybe he didn’t do much reasoning at all. Last time they’d run into him, he hadn’t made much sense. Maybe he’d kidnapped Jack on a whim. Or maybe he’d mistaken him for someone else. Or maybe Jack had done something to piss him off.
Or maybe he was in league with whoever Jack’s father was afraid of.
Given the man’s appearance, it didn’t seem likely he was working for anyone, but did Claire really know? She had to stay open to all possibilities if they were going to avoid being surprised again.
They reached the ruins of the Lake House, and Claire expected the wild man to stop, but he just kept walking across the charred lawn. Claire, Mariana, and Reyva stuck to the woods, skirting the property and the tennis court. They kept an eye on the wild man, but he didn’t veer from his course: straight across and down the center of the airstrip. He didn’t slow when he reached the woods on the opposite side. Hefting Jack higher on his shoulder, he plunged in between the trees and soon disappeared from sight.
Hurrying, they jogged to the place where the wild man had reentered the woods. He’d left a trail: an imprint of a footstephere, a trampled fern there, a snapped twig on a bush. Claire’s eyes darted from clue to clue. Soon—too soon, Claire’s mind whispered—they spotted him. It was almost as if he’d waited for them to catch up.
But why?
And he still hadn’t turned around to look at them.
“This is freaking me out,” Mariana murmured. “Where’s he going?”
Reyva shrugged, then winced—her arm clearly not liking the movement.
Claire concentrated on stepping quietly through the forest. She noticed the birds were few and far between—an occasional warble, then silence. The leaves rustled from the wind, sounding like a whisper. She found herself straining to hear words that weren’t there. She heard a stream in the distance. It burbled incessantly, but she didn’t see it—the woods were too uneven and too thick here, with too many boulders blocking the view.
“Anyone think this looks familiar?” Reyva whispered.
Sure, it looked familiar. Everything on the island looked the same, as Mariana had said. Lots of green. Lots of ferns. Lots of boulders. Slowing, Claire stared at one particular mound of boulders, devoid of the green that crawled over the other rocks and trees. She felt prickles chase over her skin.
Okay, yes, it definitely did look familiar.
“The cave,” Mariana whispered.
“Where’s the wild man?” Claire asked. While they’d been staring at the familiar pile of green-less rocks, they’d lost sight of the man carrying Jack. She hurried forward, scanning the forest.If they’d followed him all this way, only to lose him now—
She spotted Jack lying on the ground near the rocks. He was still unconscious. Or dead? She saw his chest rise and fall. Not dead. And he still had his pack. It was trapped under him, but she could see the straps on his shoulders.
She hesitated, though. This didn’t make sense. Why would—
Mariana didn’t hesitate. She darted toward Jack.
Springing out from behind a tree, the man jumped in front of her with his arms spread wide. “Can’t have him! He’s not for you.”
Skidding, Mariana stopped, then retreated.
Reyva and Claire hurried to flank her on either side. “We’re not here for him,” Reyva said. “All we want is his pack. Give us that, and we’ll go away.”
They would? And just leave Jack here? Of course, if they had the phone, they could call for help for everyone.
“Who are you?” Claire asked. “Why are you here?”
“And what do you want with Jack?” Mariana asked.
The wild man laughed, and his laugh was exactly what Claire would have expected—the kind of laugh that chills your skin, a high-pitched cascade that sounded as if he hadn’t heard a true laugh in years.
