CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 18
NESS WAS HOLDING A PORTION OF WELL-DONE, ROOM-TEMPERATURE fish on a large, shiny leaf, trying to convince Libby to eat.
She knocked gently on the door for the dozenth time. “Libby, you need to eat something, and the only something we have is fish. Better yet, Ian and Hayes are back down there trying for more, so guess what’s for lunch?”
No response.
“You’re upset, and with good reason, but maybe if you get a few calories in, some healthy fats, and hell, this green leaf that probably isn’t poisonous but is certainly full of fiber, you’ll be in a better position to deal with your emotions. Or plot your revenge. Whatever feels right.”
From inside the room, Ness heard the rustle of blankets. She could picture Libby rolling over, turning her back to the door, intent on experiencing the full range of her negative emotions in solitude.
“Libby, stop pouting and open the fucking door!” Coco yelled from the bathroom.
Ness walked the few steps down the hall and stuck her head into the bathroom. “Is that you being supportive?”
Coco gave her a weak thumbs-up from where she was curled at the base of the toilet, forehead pressed to the cool tiles. “Did it work?”
“Shockingly, no.”
“Best I could do, given the circumstances.” She took a shuddering breath. “Listen, she’ll have to come out eventually. But tell her to use the other bathroom. This one is permanently engaged.”
Ness put a fresh jar of water on the floor beside Coco’s sweaty forehead and made her way back to Libby’s door.
She sat and leaned against the wall, fish-bearing leaf balanced on her knee.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she tried.
“Does it seem like I want to talk about it?” Libby snapped, voice muffled.
“My therapist says sometimes the things we most want to avoid are the things that need doing most urgently.” Ness drew a star in the dust beside her with a fingertip. “She also says that some relationships are past the point of saving, no matter how badly we want to find something to salvage.”
Something banged against the inside of the door. Ness winced.
“Yeah, she was actually talking about you and me, but it seems like it could be applicable to other current issues.”
“Ness?”
“Yeah?”
“Go away.”
“Nah. I’m all settled here. Besides, I’ve never been very good at listening to other people’s advice. This could be my chance to win you over again.”
“It is not.”
“Remember how much you hated me when we first met? After they gave me my part and you thought you were out? I thought for sure you were going to be out for blood, the way you looked at me.” Ness started to pick up a flake of fish, then made herself stop. “When I found out you were joining I was terrified. I nearly threw up on Ian’s shoes the first day on set, knowing you’d be there.”
“Hey!” Coco chimed in. “Remember that time you puked on his new Jordans at Club Imposter?” Ness ignored her. She could remember, but barely. It was all a vodka-tinted haze.
“And then we did that terrible scene with the foam party when Hayes joined the cast and ‘Theo’ got to town,” Ness continued. “And Hayes didn’t know what a foam party was, but he was trying to play it cool.”
There was a snort that she chose to interpret as stifled laughter.
“Anyway, I have been a terrible friend. Not just since I left L.A., but for the entire time you’ve known me. I was a selfish, self-centered, entitled kid who turned into a selfish, self-centered, immature adult. Just ask my ex-husband. But, Libby, our friendship was one of the best things in my life.”
“Hey!” Coco shouted again. “I was there too, you know.”
“One of the best things in my life,” Ness continued, tearing little strips of leaf free and letting them fall to the floor. “And I didn’t treasure that the way it deserved. I stopped trusting everyone. If my own father could fool me so completely, then how could I believe what I thought I knew about everybody else? Not to mention the paralyzing embarrassment and shame I felt after everything happened. It felt like my fault.”
A terrible, organic sound came from the bathroom, followed by “You’re making it about you again.”
“You had every right to feel hurt. You’re right to think I’m a horrible person. But right now, Libby? Right now, I want to give you some food, a bottle of water, and a sounding board. You don’t have to like me for that.”
“Ness?” came a tremulous voice from behind the door.
She sat up straighter, hope zipping through her.
“Yeah?”
“Fuck off.”
* * *
“Is she peeing in a bottle or something? Does this place have chamber pots?” Coco sipped water and leaned against the wall opposite Libby’s still-locked door.
“Hey, Libby!” Coco leaned forward, extended an arm, and rapped sharply on the door. “You got a chamber pot in there?”
The fish sat cold and sad on the floor beside Ness. She was still tempted to eat it but had decided that, at a minimum, her staid resolve in saving it might win her a point with Libby. Possibly only a partial point. She’d still be farther ahead than she was now.
Hayes had returned earlier looking sullen and announced the sea was devoid of edible creatures. They’d caught the last three that morning. It was over now.
Ian, looking clammy and jittery despite his continued Xanax ingestion, heckled him into playing cards on the shaded side of the balcony. Libby had given up trying to horde her pharmaceuticals and, with Daisy, had put Ian on a consumption schedule unprofessionally designed to stave off any further withdrawal symptoms until they could access medical care.
Daisy and Tyler were practicing what Daisy called “mindful breathing and appreciation actions.” This mostly seemed to involve doing endless downward-dog-to-plank transitions with an occasional one-footed balance activity.
Ness still hadn’t seen Bradley. She’d heard Ian muttering to Hayes about it earlier. That it seemed like a pretty sketchy time to take on an unannounced solo expedition. Ness couldn’t disagree. Part of her was still stuck on the idea that whoever had been recording them was also behind the disappearance of their boat. What if it was hidden somewhere and Bradley had just . . . left them? She thought back to the overheard argument with Libby in which he seemed to be asking for something. Then the letter to Kimberley. What if he was in dire straits for cash and this was his big move? It seemed unlike him, but given the right circumstances and an unprecedented amount of stress, anything was possible.
She was considering grabbing another deck of cards for a rousing game of solitaire to distract herself when Libby whisper-yelled her name.
“Still here,” Ness assured her. “Not going anywhere. I’m ready when you—”
Libby said something in a strangled voice.
“Libby? You okay? Dehydrated?” She grabbed the bottle of water, stood, and jiggled the doorknob. Still locked.
A dull thud came from inside the room. Then another.
Ness looked at Coco, who shrugged and mouthed, “Temper tantrum?”
“This is stupid.” Ness walked quickly through the hall and out the side door. The sun was instantly hot on her shoulders, and she breathed in the warm, clean air as she walked around the back of the house to where the bedroom windows had once looked over the island but were now shrouded in overgrown vines and bird poop.
She pulled some leaves aside and peered in the first window to get her bearings, then counted four down, to where Libby was holed up.
The ground was uneven, with knee-high scrubby grass that was very likely crawling with ticks.
At Libby’s window, she boosted herself up onto the generous concrete ledge and heaved on handfuls of vines until they ripped away from the surrounding stucco, giving her a dirt-dusted but mostly clear view of the room.
Libby was lying on the bed, wrapped in the ugliest blanket Ness had seen on the island yet. It was mottled brown and seemed to undulate in the dappled sunlight. Ness knocked on the glass.
Libby’s head snapped back so she was looking at Ness upside down. Her eyes were huge. Ness watched her mouth something.
“What? I can’t hear you! Just let me in! This is ridiculous, Libby. You need water, at least . . .”
The blanket moved. Ness pressed her forehead to the dirty glass and squinted.
Libby’s chapped lips moved again, and this time, Ness got the message, as a large, diamond-shaped head rose from the bed to look at her with shiny black eyes, its pink tongue flicking the air.
“Help me.”
“Hoooooly shit,” Ness breathed, almost falling backward off the window ledge.
The snake was wrapped around Libby’s body from ankles to mid-torso. It was as big around as a fire hose and, Ness assumed, capable of swallowing a whole pig, goat, or petite actress.
She wracked her brain, trying to dig up any random, useful snake facts that might be lurking there. Nada.
Alright, step one: get into the room. Instinctively, it felt like a terrible idea. The last thing she wanted to do was get closer. Actually, the last thing she wanted to do was sit idly by while Libby disappeared into the snake’s disjointed jaws. With her luck, she’d be accused of plotting a diabolical murder. Imagine possessing the kind of foresight it would take to have packed a python in her carry-on. She might have planned well enough to throw in a few rolls of toilet paper as well.
Okay. Into the room.
She pressed her palms to the glass and tried to force it up. No dice.
Digging her fingertips into the crack between the sill and the window frame didn’t give her anything except more broken nails.
“Do something!” Libby shrieked, her voice carrying through the glass. The snake had managed another loop and was now hugging her chest. Libby coughed. The creature looked at her, its head tilted to the side like a confused dog. She froze.
Ness jumped down and kicked around in the grass, searching for anything that could break the window. Grass, leaves, a startled, running iguana, more grass. She gave a little scream of frustration, which seemed to birth an idea.
Breaking into a run, she sprinted around the house to the balcony, where Hayes and Ian lounged at the heavy iron bistro table, cards abandoned as they stared out to sea in companionable silence.
Ness grabbed the back of Hayes’s chair and pulled.
“Give me the chair give me the chair give me the chair!” She heaved on the iron frantically until Hayes got up, staring at her.
She lifted the hefty chair and staggered across the balcony. God, she needed more upper-body strength.
“Help!” she shouted, her breath coming in haggard puffs. “Snake eating Libby.” She jerked her head toward the back of the house.
The men stood frozen, processing her words.
Ness dropped the chair and screeched in frustrated panic. “HELP ME!”
Hayes jumped into motion first, closing the space between them in long, efficient steps and picking up the chair in one hand as he passed. Ian followed close behind.
Ness ran to catch up, leading him to the right window. She boosted herself up and looked in. Libby’s eyes were closed. Ness couldn’t tell if she was breathing.
“Keep your eyes closed!” she shouted, hoping Libby could hear her, and wishing they had a way to protect her from glass shards.
She jumped back down and turned to Hayes.
“Don’t just stand there. Chuck it!”
He put his arm out to back her up to a safe distance, eyed the glass, raised the chair over his head with both hands, and threw it, muscles straining.
Ready to leap into action, Ness held her breath as the chair flew through the air.
It bounced off the glass and fell to the ground.
They all looked from the window to the chair and back again.
“Huh.” Ian picked it up, testing the weight in his hands. “I think we need to . . .” He took a couple of quick side steps, swinging the chair like a baseball bat.
Thwack.A crack appeared.
“Again!” Hayes called.
Ian backed up and repeated the motion. The crack spread. One more time aaaaand . . . the glass shattered, pieces tinkling from the frame to the tiles below.
Ness took off her shirt, wrapped it around her hand and arm, and set about clearing as much of the remaining glass as she could to make a space big enough for a person to fit through.
She looked back at Ian and Hayes, then at the opening in the glass. She sighed and shook the shirt out. Slipping it back over her head, she felt tiny pieces of glass scratching her face and body.
“Go around,” she instructed. “I’ll open the door!”
She jumped back onto the ledge and started wiggling through the opening, ignoring the painful drag of sharp edges against her skin.
It was a great plan. Open the door and let the burly menfolk pry the monster off Libby.
It was a great plan, except it fell apart immediately.
Aforementioned burly menfolk got halfway across the room, saw what awaited them, and froze.
“Oh,” Ian said quietly, and fainted. Hayes caught him before he hit the floor, lowered him gently, then dragged him to the hall.
Coco stood in the doorway.
“Shiiiiiiiit.”
Libby was definitely too still. They were running out of time.
“Where’s Bradley? Didn’t he have a pet snake as a kid?” Coco looked around like she was expecting him to materialize at the sound of his name.
Ness surveyed the chaos around her, her mind oddly serene. She knew what to do. Or, at least, she knew the only thing she could think of worth doing.
She ran to the kitchen, leaping over Ian’s unconscious form. She was back seconds later, just in time to see Hayes trying to work himself up to launching himself at the beast.
Shoving him out of the way, she grabbed a thin blanket from the floor and approached the snake.
“What are you doing?” Hayes whispered.
Could snakes even hear? Why was everyone whispering?
“Shut up,” Coco hissed, slapping his arm. “Fuck, I wish I had a camera.” She seemed to realize what she’d said and paused, looking at them uncomfortably. “And a gun. A gun seems like it would be good here.”
The snake turned its gaze on Ness, its head rising to the same level as hers. She felt her heart stutter. It took everything she had not to turn and run. She started speaking, low and slow.
“Hey there, friend. Hungry, huh? Yeah, me too.” If snakes could look suspicious, Ness figured this one would be maxed out on side-eye. She edged a bit closer, blanket raised at her side.
“I’m sorry things have to go this way. It’s just, you appear to have murderous intentions, and we can’t really have that here. We’re already pretty stressed out, you know? It’s been a tough week.”
She was an arm’s length from the bed. Raising the blanket farther, she adjusted her grip on the knife in her other hand. Sweat dripped down her back.
“Again, really, really sorry. This isn’t great for me either. Ready?”
It froze, and Libby let out a rattling exhale.
“Okay, then.”
Ness lunged forward, throwing the blanket over the snake’s enormous head and tackling it to the bed, pressing it into the mattress beside Libby’s face with her full body weight. She felt it tense, ready to fling her off and, presumably, commit a second slow-motion murder.
Ness stabbed before she could think about it too much. She watched Daisy’s hunting knife tear through the thin fabric, felt it hit momentary resistance, then sink farther.
The snake jerked, once, twice, then went limp.
Hayes was at her side then, setting her gently on the floor before starting to tug the enormous corpse from Libby’s body.
The top portion of the python thunked to the floor beside Ness, making her jump. Quickly, additional coils followed, piling onto the others like a gigantic, messily wrapped garden hose.
Hayes was talking softly to Libby, gently patting her cheek and making concerned tutting sounds. Ness couldn’t move. Her limbs felt like they were made of jelly. Or dead snake. She shuddered.
Coco joined Hayes at the bed and elbowed him out of the way. She looked at Libby, then gave her a sharp smack across the face.
“You wake up, Elizabeth Honoria Kim, you prissy bitch. I will not have this contribute to my inevitable PTSD.” She slapped the other cheek. “Wake. Up!”
Libby’s eyes fluttered open and she drew in a shaky breath, wincing as her ribs expanded.
“Took your sweet time, didn’t you?” she croaked.
Your Flight Is Confirmed!
Passenger:Robert Larkin
Economy Class
Leaves:Harry Reid International Airport, Las Vegas, 10:00 p.m., Thursday, August 18
Arrives:Hollywood International Airport, Fort Lauderdale, 5:31 a.m., Friday, August 19