Chapter 63
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
Nigel could do nothing but cling helplessly to the Faraday cloth as it began to rip.
It had never been designed to hold a person’s weight, let alone that of two, even when one was as slight as Montague.
The lantern had gone out, the flaming ship vanished, but the cold rain stole heat from his body with every breath.
Even if the cloth held by some miracle, he couldn’t possibly climb it in this condition.
Tina yelled for Oscar—thank god, he must be okay. A moment later, Oscar’s headlamp switched on, cutting through the gloom. “Fuck—all right, I’ll brace here in the doorway. Chris, you hold on to me. Dr. Lawson, can you hold onto Chris and grab Nigel?”
“Of course.”
“What should I do?” Tina asked anxiously.
“Get ready to step in if we need more hands,” Oscar said, and there was a note of fear in his voice now. “Nigel, Ms. Montague, hang on.”
Nigel hoped they could both follow Oscar’s directive. He was tiring rapidly, and Montague was surely in even worse shape. She had both arms locked around his boot now, but her strength couldn’t last much longer.
“Nigel!” Lawson barked. He opened eyes he hadn’t realized he’d even shut, and saw her hand stretched out toward him. “Can you reach?”
He wanted to say yes, but… “If I let go of the cloth, I don’t think I can support us both long enough to grab your hand.”
The steel deck groaned ominously as a gust of wind buffeted it.
Oh fuck, this was it. “Save yourselves! Let us fall.”
“Like hell!” Lawson yelled back. “We aren’t leaving you. Now move your ass before we all die!”
He could do it. He could—
The cloth ripped further, and Montague screamed as they dropped by a couple of inches.
A couple of inches that might as well have been half the world. Lawson’s hand was out of reach now. And if they added Tina to the chain, her extra weight might break whatever last support held the gallery up.
Gloria appeared above him.
Nigel jerked in shock—and that was it for the cloth, the sound of it tearing apart his death knell.
Gloria seized him around the wrist. Her fingers might be those of a child, but her strength was that of something that had never been human to begin with. Her other hand clutched around Dr. Lawson’s, she ordered, “Pull!”
Oscar let out a yell of defiance against gravity itself. They inched upward—then, as Chris gained the stable platform of the lantern room, things began to move faster. Within a few moments, hands were gripping Nigel’s clothing and arms, hauling him back onto solid ground, and Montague after him.
“Oh god.” Oscar’s arms closed around him, and Nigel had to force his fingers to let go of Lawson’s. His entire body shook, as did Oscar’s. Probably the rest of theirs, as well.
For some reason, Oscar wasn’t wearing a shirt, but that only dimly registered as they kissed. The urge to cry overwhelmed him, and he realized Oscar was crying as well.
“I was so scared,” Oscar confessed. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” Nigel swallowed and sat back a little.
Gloria stood a few feet away, gazing at the unlit lantern, which had gotten broken at some point while he was trying to save Montague. “Thank you,” Nigel said to her. “If you hadn’t…”
She looked at Oscar. “If you hadn’t broken the lantern, I would never have been able to fight off my creator.”
“It was time,” he replied, sounding bone-tired. “I’m only sorry justice was delayed for as long as it was. But I promise you, we’ll spread the word about what happened here.”
Now she looked at Montague. “Will she let you?”
Montague sat beside Dr. Lawson, who seemed torn between offering her comfort and refusing to touch her.
Her linen suit was streaked with rust and soaked with rain, her hair plastered against her skull.
She looked old beyond her years, every wrinkle etched more deeply into her face than Nigel recalled them being just this morning.
“Yes.” She straightened her shoulders and returned Gloria’s gaze with a visible effort. “I will. I owe them my life, after all.”
“Good.” Gloria turned her back on them and peered out. The storm was lessening, and faint light touched the eastern sky where the clouds had thinned. “I’ll remain long enough be sure you keep your promise. After that…” She shrugged. “You’ll never see me again.”
She faded away as the rain slackened and the wind died. Nigel glanced at Oscar—then gasped. “Your hand—you’re bleeding!”
“It’s nothing.” Oscar winced. “Actually, it might be broken.”
Tina helped him to his feet. “Let’s go down and get you patched up. We could all use some dry clothes, blankets, and hot food.”
“That sounds heavenly,” Chris agreed.
They climbed down the ladder one at a time and limped to the tower room on the first floor, where Ethan huddled with wide eyes. While Oscar sat down heavily so Tina could look over his hand, Nigel unzipped the Faraday tent.
“It’s safe now,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’d like the satellite phone, please.”
Ethan crawled out of the mesh tent and took the phone from his pocket. “Are you going to call the coast guard again?”
“No.” Nigel took the phone and dialed 9-1-1. Though he believed Montague had been sincere earlier when she promised not to keep the truth from getting out, he didn’t want to give her a chance to reconsider.
“Hello,” he said when the operator answered, “I’m with a group on Devil’s Den Island. We’ve found human remains. A lot of them.”