Gray's Domain: Purgatorium Series, Book Two (17 page)

The stables were alive with horse sounds, so it was difficult to hear the subtle snap of twigs near the stable door. Daphne froze when she heard it. Someone was out there.

They all glanced at each other with wide eyes. This was it. The gig was up.

Brock was the first one to step to the door and peer out. He squinted and stared for several seconds as they all held their breath. They heard the noise again, this time closer.

Brock turned back to them, his finger to his lips, and then returned his gaze to the path outside the door. Daphne nearly screamed when Brock swooped forward in a rush, but she was frozen in her shoes.

“It’s the fox,” Brock said, revealing Mini-me in his arms.

“Oh, no!” Daphne crossed the stables and wrapped her left hand around the small device at the end of the fox’s tail.

The fox struggled against Brock’s arms.

“Don’t say anything,” Daphne said. “It’s a camera. Now they know where we are. We need to get out of here immediately. Giovanni, help.”

With her right arm useless, all she could do was hold the tail as Giovanni pried apart the device. Once he finally got it off, he dropped it on the dirt and stomped on it repeatedly, like it was alive and he wanted to kill it. Tears
streamed from his eyes as he pounded his shoe against the device and the ground, over and over, spewing dust up in his face.

“Giovanni, that’s good,” Daphne said, alarmed. She touched his shoulder. “It’s okay. We’re going to get out of here.”

Brock released Mini-me, who scrambled from the stables, and then he and Sharon helped Joe mount the horse. Joe winced as they worked to get him in the saddle. He cried out when Sharon slipped the foot of his broken leg into a stirrup.

“Take it out! Take it out!” Joe cried.

Sharon slipped the foot back out. “I’m sorry, Joe. I’m so sorry!”

He lay across Scout’s crest and wrapped his arms around her neck as Brock tied a leader rope to the harness.

“I hope I’m doing this right,” Brock said.

“Where are the reins?” Joe asked.

“There’s no way I’m going to bridle her,” Brock replied. “I haven’t a clue how.”

“Can we go now?” Daphne asked.

She clutched her arm as they inched their way out of the stables.

“Avoid the road,” her mother said.

“But I don’t know the way without the road,” Daphne pointed out.

“We can follow it from down here.” Brock held the crook of her good arm.  “I don’t want to risk being caught in the headlights.”

The journey was made more difficult by the steep slope of the hill. They tottered, like limping soldiers, with Sharon and Giovanni on each side of the horse in case Joe lost his balance and fell. Daphne was more worried about her mother hiking in flip-flops than she was of her father falling from the horse. The rest of them had sneakers or boots, but her mother’s feet had to be killing her.

It wasn’t long before they heard the jeep retuning from Prisoners Harbor. They froze in their tracks and held their breath as it passed. They saw the jeep stop about a hundred yards away, near the stables.

“Run,” Brock said.

They clambered as fast as they could, Daphne hugging her broken arm to her side but unable to stop the excruciating pain caused by its movement. Sweat beaded on her face, even though the night air was chilly. She wanted to throw up.

“We’ve got to get off this path,” Joe said, still clinging to Scout’s neck. “As soon as they find a horse missing, they’ll know our plan.”

“Cut to the right,” Giovanni said. “We can hide in those trees. I’ve been there all day.”

“No,” Daphne said breathlessly. “That’s the next place they’ll look. They’ll know you were there because of Mini-me.”

“We can’t stay near this road much longer,” Joe said.

“If they expect us to take to the woods, then let’s climb the hill and cross the road to the other side,” Sharon said.

“We better do it now,” Brock said.

Daphne gulped for air as Brock pulled her up the hill. She dry-heaved but kept climbing with her legs as fast as she could. Giovanni helped her mother, who struggled in her flimsy flip-flops. When they reached the road at the top of the hill, they darted across to the other side and half-tumbled back down again toward Central Valley, her father groaning with pain.

At the bottom, there was no time to stop to catch a breath. They ran on, parallel with the road until Daphne recognized the bluff looming before them in the moonlight.

“If we climb that, we’ll be able to see Prisoners Harbor,” she said. “It’s about another half-mile on the other side.”

“Honey, you can’t climb that,” her mother said. “Not with a broken arm. And I don’t think I can climb it even
without
a broken arm.”

“They won’t look for us up there,” Joe said. “That’s for damn sure.”

“It might not be as hard as it looks,” Brock said, leading them toward it.

Of course, he wasn’t wearing flip-flops.

“If it gets too hard for you, Mama, we’ll just turn back, okay?”

Sharon nodded.

As embarrassed as Daphne was about her bald head, she pulled off her scarf and wrapped it around her neck. Her mother ran up behind her to help her tie it into a sling as they walked. Then Daphne eased the broken arm into the scarf. The relief was immediate.

“Don’t let go,” Daphne told her father when Brock led the horse up the base of the thirty-foot bluff. “Hang on.” She hadn’t been worried about him falling before, but this steep slope had her stomach in knots.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Joe said.

Brock zig-
zagged up the incline in a way that reminded Daphne of a McDonald’s play-scape she used to climb as a child. She was glad Brock was in the lead and she didn’t have to think, because it took all of her concentration to deal with the pain. Her mom climbed behind her, pushing Daphne up. Giovanni followed. Daphne hoped they weren’t visible in the moonlight from the stables and surrounding area. If they could just reach the top, they could move out of sight of the search party below. Her left arm strained as she pulled. She gulped air, her heart beating out of control.

About half way to the top, Daphne stopped. She was exhausted and in the most agonizing pain and couldn’t go on. Her good arm was now hurting her more than the broken one. She burst into tears.

“I shouldn’t have thought I could do this,” she said through a flurry of shuddering sobs. “God, this sucks!”

Brock called from above, “I have to keep going with the horse, Daph. I can’t turn back. Come on. You can do it.”

Sharon stayed beneath her, but Giovanni went around them.

“Keep going, Daphne. Don’t stop,” he said as he passed.

“It’s okay, honey,” Sharon said. “I’ll stay here with you if you need a break. Just take in a nice deep breath, and slow down your breathing. Come on, nice and deep and slow.”

Daphne bit back her tears and tried to do as her mother had said. She looked down below, which was mostly in shadows. She could see part of the road, and although the stables were shrouded in darkness, she could make out two tiny pricks of light she knew were headlights. The jeep was coming back this way. She reached up with her good arm and pulled.

Her mother pushed from behind, and a few minutes later, Brock returned. He pulled on her good arm while her mother pushed her bottom, and together they helped her up the steep slope. When they reached the top, she collapsed on the ground and gasped for air. The sight of Prisoners Harbor filled her with unexpected joy. It looked farther away than she remembered, but the moonlit pier was unmistakable. If they could just get to it before the others discovered them.

Just then the buzz of a helicopter roared above from the east. It was coming to the island from the mainland. Arturo hadn’t wasted any time in finding a replacement.

“Quick!” Brock said. “Take cover over here!”

He led them to a stack of boulders that shielded them from the chopper. They expected searchlights, but the helicopter changed direction and headed south toward the resort.

“Thank God,” Joe muttered.

“Can we rest here for a minute?” Daphne sat on the ground with her back against the boulders. “I don’t think they’ll see us up here.”

Joe was still slumped across the horse’s crest with his arms wrapped around its neck. The others sat against the boulders, panting.

“I’m so sorry we sent you here.” Sharon’s voice cracked as she broke into tears. “We had no idea what we were getting into.”

“Mama, please don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have known.”

“We were trying to save your life, not endanger it,” Joe added.

“This place
has
saved my life,” Daphne said, overcome by more tears. “You don’t know this, but I came here to end it.” She could barely watch the looks of horror that came over her parents and Brock, and she was no longer able to speak or breathe.

“Oh, Daphne,” her mother held Daphne’s good hand.
“My sweet, little girl. Please tell me you don’t feel that way anymore.”

Daphne shook her head, still unable to speak. Two years of anger, hate, and guilt boiled in her throat. She coughed and wiped her eyes.

“I think the hardest part of life is accepting things we can’t control,” Brock said. “And when we can’t, we look for someone else to blame.”

“I did that to you, Daphne.” Her mother’s voice cracked with sobs. “And I’m so very sorry.”

Daphne still couldn’t speak. Her entire body shuddered as her throat constricted. A few seconds passed before she could finally suck in air and breathe.

Her mother sat beside her and put an arm around her, careful of the broken arm in the sling. “I love you so much, Daphne. I’m sorry we put you in danger, but I have to
admit that I feel so relieved to have you back again.” Sharon kissed Daphne’s cheek.

Brock took Daphne’s good hand and kissed it, and she felt a tear from his face land on her skin. Everyone was quiet except for the crying. The cold night air clung to them, and Daphne was comforted by the warmth of Brock and her mother on either side of her.

“Should we hide here until morning?” Giovanni asked after a while. “No use sitting on the dock all night only to be found by Dr. Gray before morning.”

Brock squeezed Daphne’s hand. “Let’s take a break, but I don’t think we should wait till morning. It’s still a ways to the pier.”

“Well, if we don’t wait up here and we can’t wait down there, what should we do?” Giovanni asked.

“I have a crazy idea,” Daphne said. “And none of you will like it.”

Chapter Fourteen: Hideout

According to Joe’s wristwatch, midnight was approaching, which meant three hours had passed since Daphne and her mom and Brock had met Greg on the beach. As they crept across the mesa toward Prisoners Harbor, Daphne wondered how much more time it would take to reach the coastline.

The mesa where they had been resting stretched about fifty yards across before it dropped into a series of hills that descended in height all the way down to the harbor. Luckily, none of them were as steep as the bluff they had just climbed. They trudged across the hills in silence (they were all too tired to speak) for another twenty minutes before they finally reached the kayak hut.

“It’s locked.” Daphne was full of disappointment. Now what were they going to do?

“That’s easy.” Giovanni reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. From there, he brought out the key card to his unit. He slid the card between the door and the door frame right near the knob. The door opened.

“How did you do that?” Sharon asked.

Giovanni grinned. “It only works on one kind of knob, but lucky for us, it’s the most common kind.”

Daphne found a switch and flipped on the lights. There were about two dozen kayaks, both single and double-
seaters, stacked along one wall of the hut. Another dozen or so life vests were piled in a corner. They also found cases of bottled water and whistles.  Brock put bottles in each of the pockets of his jeans and handed two more over to Giovanni and Joe, who did the same. Sharon helped Daphne and Joe into life vests before putting one on herself. Then Brock, Sharon, and Giovanni each grabbed a kayak and carried them down the path to the harbor while Daphne used her good arm to lead Scout.

Except for the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the rocky shoreline, the night was eerily quiet as Brock helped Joe into the back of his two-seater kayak and Daphne in the back of Sharon’s.  Even the pelicans, which squawked on this part of the island all day long, were quiet. The fox had been following the group from the stables, but now, as the humans eased into their kayaks and paddled away, both the fox and the horse, with ten yards between them, stood watching.

Daphne’s mom had a hard time keeping up with the others, and Daphne felt sorry that she couldn’t help paddle. She begged her mom to let her try, but Sharon wouldn’t hear of it. The shallow water they maneuvered in was full of rocks, kelp, and seaweed, and Daphne was sure there was plenty of unseen wildlife below and around them. She could hear the occasional flutter of water as something moved away from their kayak.