Chapter 7
I quickly took off Nathan’s shirt, put the cell phone in my pocket, and ran down the steps.
“They seem to be photographers!” Nathan called to me, who was holding a pair of binoculars. “Or tourists.”
I didn’t think about it for a second longer. “Okay. I have to go back to the hut. I forgot something!”
Without waiting for his answer, I hurried off. Maybe there was reception in the southern part of Lost Memories, after all, the others retreated there now and then to clarify things instead of going out on the boat like they did in the beginning.
My hands were shaking with excitement. I could call Dad...hear his voice. Hear him say: Nicholas Garrett Hampton. Who do I have the honor of speaking with? And maybe I would answer him, maybe not. Maybe I would ask him if he was guilty.
I didn’t think there would be a tracer because he most certainly stuck to the requirement of not involving the police. But that didn’t matter. A private contractor could also monitor the connection, but there probably wouldn’t be enough time to locate me.
Out of breath, I reached the wooden shack with the chest, stood on the porch, and tapped the screen.
The cell phone showed me a keypad for the code.
Crap! Crap! Crap! It was switched on and didn’t need a PIN for the SIM card, but Nathan had told me that it was code-protected.
In my excitement, I had completely forgotten.
I stared at the display. There was a bar in the top right.
Heavens, I even had reception here! Weak, but still!
I nervously rubbed my sweaty forehead. Maybe that was a sign that I should give up my plan.
I would see my father again one day. I didn’t have to talk to him.
Suddenly, my heart was pounding and I had the overwhelming desire to finally find out the truth.
Maybe I merely needed to hear his voice once to know whether he was guilty or not.
I could still sense other people’s emotions even if I didn’t have much use for it here.
I stared absentmindedly at the keypad on the display and entered the hut because I felt safer inside.
I only remembered two or three times when Nathan had entered the code because he wanted to look something up.
He had turned away and I had only noticed it in passing.
Had I unconsciously remembered something?
Suddenly, the coordinates of Lea’s burial site appeared in my mind, numbers that meant everything to Nathan.
292119.2N 911638.2W
Seven digits, a letter, seven digits, a letter.
The code showed six dots, so only six digits were needed. If I left out the numbers with the letter in the coordinates, there’d be only six digits per sequence.
I shakily typed in the first six digits. 292119. The phone buzzed as if it were insulted. Damn! I had been so sure. Then I shook my head. But no, Nathan would never use the first digits! More likely the second sequence; I typed them in—the phone buzzed again. Damn!
I had no idea if I had more than three attempts, but I would try again with the second sequence of numbers, only this time backward. I entered them and the phone silently unlocked.
“Bingo,” I whispered. Suddenly, I felt guilty.
Nathan loved me and trusted me! Once again, I was taking advantage of his weakness, his most vulnerable spot, to do something that could jeopardize his plan.
The plan that meant everything to him, that he lived for.
On the other hand, I wouldn’t really be jeopardizing it, would I?
I looked at the screen with mixed feelings. It still showed a bar.
I don’t know how long I stood in the hut with the phone in my hand and hesitated.
Had Dad hired someone to trace all calls?
Maybe they would discover the phone pinged off a cell tower in Louisiana even if I only made the call brief.
I didn’t know enough about all the technology to know for certain if we could be found or how exactly the police or other specialists might pinpoint the location.
Should I risk it? There were a thousand reasons for it and Isaac was one.
I still wanted him captured, even now. Or especially now that I knew how sick he was.
People were like predators, more dangerous when they were dying or injured because they had nothing left to lose.
However, part of me wanted to stay here and live from day to day with Nathan without thinking about tomorrow.
That part wanted to wait and hope that everything would turn out for the best. I wanted Dad to use the time to consider the guilty party that all the people in Coldville could also believe in.
I wanted him to provide evidence of his innocence, not his guilt.
I hesitantly dialed the New York area code.
“What exactly are you doing?”
The sharp voice made me look up. There was Troy, standing in the entrance to the hut.
“Nothing,” I lied, even though it made no sense because I was holding the evidence in my hand.
“Give me the phone, now!”
“Okay, calm down!” I had never seen him so angry apart from his outburst toward Sparta—suddenly, I thought about Hazel Lynn. He must have been running, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to find me so quickly, but he wasn’t out of breath or sweaty.
“I just dialed the area code, nothing else,” I said, defending myself. “I don’t know if I would have dialed the rest.” That was actually true. I might have backed out at the last second and I was annoyed that I would never find out now. I held out the cell phone to him, which he immediately took.
“I saw you with it through the porch window.”
“And you followed me?”
He nodded.
“You didn’t tell Nathan?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes, shortly after you left because it was clear what you were planning to do. He’s searching for you on the other side. By the floating forest.”
“Oh!” A sinking feeling fluttered in my stomach. Nathan probably wouldn’t speak to me for days, but that wasn’t the reason for the sinking feeling. I knew Nathan would forgive me after his first fit of anger. He forgive you in three seconds …
I looked at Troy, who adjusted his old cowboy hat and took a step back to give me access to the cabin. “I’ll look for Nathan and let him know,” he said. “You better get back before it gets pitch black.”
Suddenly, I was scared. The whole scene reminded me of a horror film.
The orange-red evening light had given way to a gray dusk that now hovered over the swamp like mist over the graves in a cemetery.
Troy looked eerie in it, almost like an undertaker.
His hat, which was slightly askew, made him seem taller than usual.
I nodded and he disappeared as quietly as he had arrived.
I cautiously walked around the hut and jumped from the veranda onto the ground, whereupon a flock of quacking ducks fluttered up from the tall grass on the bank.
A few pelicans circled in the sky. Shivering, I hurried off and rubbed my upper arms. I had no idea why I thought about Pan now of all times, of how hostilely he had looked at Nathan.
But Pan was an honest, good-natured fellow.
Yes, he was jealous, but not insidious. He wouldn’t sneak around and lie in wait for Nathan.
I hoped.
I kept walking, glancing left and right.
Spanish moss brushed across my face like a spider’s web and dead branches cracked beneath my boots.
I thought of Nathan. I could already imagine the hard line of his lips as he glared at me.
Gloomy and disappointed . Oh damn! I looked around again.
Fog crept from the side of the floating forest across the flat land like the shadowy body of a ghost. I thought briefly of Mom.
I wondered why I didn’t see her now like I did on the Agamemnon; then my thoughts suddenly jumped to Troy’s warning about Pan.
You should be careful. I won’t say anything more than that .
I never questioned it, so why was I doing so now? Because Troy had advised me to go back to the hut before complete darkness set in? What was he afraid of?
I was so lost in thought and, at the same time, so tense that I only noticed the rustling near me after a while.
I stopped abruptly and peered fearfully into the bushes, but could hardly see anything because of the twilight and the fog.
It occurred to me that people in horror films always stopped too, always at moments when they would have been better off running.
With that thought in mind, I set off abruptly.
I hadn’t gone ten yards when something dark and huge fell out of the bushes and stumbled into me.
It happened so fast, I couldn’t react. I screamed and fell onto the muddy ground together with Pan, who had knocked me over.
The impact wasn’t hard because of the grass and wet ground, Pan’s weight, however, pressed my ribs against my lungs.
We were wedged together, he half hanging on top of me.
I lay there still for several heartbeats, dazed with fear.
“P-Prinsessa!” he stammered, completely dumbfounded, and sat up a little so that his upper body was no longer on mine. “I…I sorry!”
“It’s fine,” I groaned and propped myself up on my forearms. I felt uncomfortable and vaguely threatened. “What are you doing here?” I tried with all my might to suppress the strange feeling. This was Pan. Pan, who had saved me several times!
He stood and wiped his hands on his pants. “I look for you. I worried. Nathan and Noah gone. You gone.”