Chapter 12 #2
His directions are to keep us from falling into one of the many unmarked holes on the island.
No, that’s not lore that we made up to keep visitors from the woods.
There have been many times over the past couple of decades when people have wandered into the forest and didn’t come back.
We don’t find the bodies because the island eats them.
Rumors say that the holes and wells are all connected and empty somewhere in the St. Lawrence River. I don’t know how true that is. It’s just a rumor, but since we never find the bodies that vanish—or that we help to vanish—maybe it’s true.
There are only a few holes that we have marked. One close to the castle and one a little further in. That’s intentional. As a kind of proof for our guests who think we’re pulling their legs. If we can show them a hidden hole, they’ll understand that it’s a true threat.
The tower is a mystery. We’re not sure where it came from or who built it. We know the official story, but everyone knows it’s just a story. I’m of the belief that it was here first, and the castle came later.
We’re not quiet, though we don’t make nearly as much noise as we could be while running through the trees at night. Our intruders are brazen with bright lanterns as they approach the tower.
“There aren’t any more holes between us and them,” Matty murmurs. “Hurry.” He presses his back against the trunk of a tree and watches with wide eyes.
Darwin and I leave our flashlights with him.
Pulling down our masks, we make our way to the intruders.
There are two, as Matty said there would be.
They’re just off to the side of the tower, possibly looking for the door.
They’re on the wrong side, unfortunately for them.
But the door on the outside rarely works anyway.
They’re so confident that they’re alone that they’re not paying any attention to us as Darwin and I wordlessly and impressively stealthily sneak up on them.
Using my the butt of my blade, I slam it into the back of the head of the one I come up behind.
His buddy spins to face me, and he’s rewarded with the same action from Darwin.
We don’t plan to dump them into the well this time; we need to know what they want. After stripping them of anything useful, such as electronics and weapons, we drag them to the nearest tunnel door, which is under a cement slab to the north of the tower.
“Matty,” Darwin calls. “Come on.”
We don’t hear him coming at all. His footsteps are silent. We only track his progress by the flashlight moving in the darkness. Then he’s here.
The cement slab is on a hinge, though you’d never know that by looking at it. We drag the two intruders roughly on our way down into the dark, cold pits of the island. Matty sticks close. I can practically feel his fear.
Silently, as if we’ve had this conversation already, we drag them to the newly rediscovered execution room. I tie one man to a pole on one side, and Darwin ties the second to the opposite side so they’re facing each other.
We didn’t hit them hard enough to do more than temporarily knock them out. We’re talking, like, falling from the couch and hitting your head on the floor kind of nap. It’ll leave a headache but nothing more.
“Where is he?” Darwin’s prisoner says.
I frown.
Darwin checks the ties, and then the prisoners and I watch him as he approaches Matty standing in the door. He pulls earbuds out of his pocket and puts them in Matty’s ears, and hands Matty his phone. “Sit tight, okay? Ignore us.”
Matty glances at me and nods, swallowing. I see his Adam’s apple bob. He crouches on the ground, giving the room his back, and begins poking through Darwin’s phone.
Darwin leaves the room briefly, and not going to lie, I’m as curious about what he’s doing as our two prisoners. He returns a few minutes later with a milk crate of goodies. Nothing I recognize, but that doesn’t mean anything.
“Where is he?” the same prisoner asks. “You won’t get away with this. Where is Kennedy?”
“Is that the first intruder onto our island? Was that his name?” I ask.
“Was?” the second man echoes.
“Was,” I agree.
“You won’t get away with this!” the first one says again.
Darwin crouches down beside the man I tied up, and I think we all watch, somewhat hypnotized, as he expertly inserts a needle into the man’s arm. The man, probably equal parts horrified as he is enthralled, simply stares.
“More restraints,” Darwin tells me.
I find more and begin the process of truly tying this man to the pillar so he can’t move. He doesn’t fight me. He doesn’t try to jerk from Darwin’s touch as he sets up the IV line and begins a drip of some kind.
“Are you familiar with what an anticoagulant is?” Darwin asks.
I almost shake my head, but I don’t think the question is for me.
“A coagulant is something that helps your body to heal from open wounds you bleed from. It essentially prevents you from bleeding out,” Darwin informs the room. He’s finished setting up the drip and is now ripping open the man’s shirt.
His chest is heaving. He’s scared. As he should be. I’m a little scared of Darwin right now. I’m not sure what he’s up to, but I have a feeling it’s not actually to heal this man in some way.
My thoughts are confirmed when he begins carving into the man’s chest with a knife. The lines aren’t deep by any means, but his skin raises like they’re cat scratches. He takes a step back when he’s finished, and we admire his handiwork.
I N T R U D E R
Then, he takes a small vial and holds it up so both prisoners can look at it.
“This is an anticoagulant. That means that it prevents the blood from clotting. It allows a wound to bleed, no matter how small and insignificant it may be. No matter how shallow the laceration is.” He takes a syringe and fills it with the anticoagulant.
“Restrain the other one better, please,” Darwin says.
I do as he says, somewhat enthralled, as I watch him from the corner of my eye while he adds the anticoagulant to the drip.
“Can we deduce what’s going to happen here?” Darwin asks.
“I’m going to bleed to death,” the man with the drip whispers.
“You are,” Darwin says. I can hear the smile in his voice even though I can’t see it through the mask.
“Very good. Quick study. So here’s the deal.
You’re going to die over the course of many hours while you slowly bleed out from these rather insignificant wounds.
Your buddy over here is going to watch you die.
Then he’s going to spend a little time with your corpse.
When we come back to pay him a visit, we’re going to have a little conversation about why you keep breaking onto our island like petty criminals. Am I clear?”
The dead man stares up at the empty mask that Darwin wears. “Yes,” he whispers.
I’m rather impressed. I don’t think I’d die with that much dignity. He’s not the one screaming as we leave the room. Under different circumstances, I think I’d keep him around.