Chapter 21
I’m sitting huddled on the school steps, hugging my knees, when Rasmus approaches the dock. He waves when he sees me.
I raise a timid hand as he moors next to our orange boat, which bobs by the dock without a care. Rasmus has a gray rigid-hulled inflatable boat, slim and stylish, not like our clunky old outboard with a wheelhouse. As soon as he gets within earshot, he calls out an apology:
“Sorry I’m late!”
I’m speechless with relief. The moment I arrived on dry land, I started to worry about him instead. I began to fear that he was done for. That the dark shadow chasing me had taken him instead.
My cheeks are still damp from tears.
Rasmus is only ten minutes late, but I was too scared to try calling him. I couldn’t bear the thought of it just ringing and ringing, and knowing he was gone.
“That’s okay,” I squeeze out.
He jogs the last stretch to the school and stops at the bottom of the steps. “Aren’t you cold?”
I wave my hand dismissively.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I burst into loud, hysterical laughter and Rasmus looks scared.
I need to explain my outburst. But it takes me a while to calm down enough to speak.
Once I’ve told him everything, Rasmus just stands there, completely still, with his arms dangling by his sides. I don’t expect him to believe me. I expect him to assume I ran aground or bottomed out, but instead he says in a faint, almost distorted voice: “What do you think it was?”
“No idea.” I hug my knees even tighter. I’m so happy to feel solid ground beneath my feet. I never want to set foot on a boat again, let alone sail home to Haro across the bay.
“It felt like it was after me,” I whisper finally.
Rasmus turns to face the dock. Is he thinking about the fog that rolled in the day that Axel disappeared? Obscuring the sun, stealing the daylight to make an artificial night?
“What do you want to do?” Rasmus asks, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “You want to go home, don’t you?”
I get the feeling he’s implying I’m going to chicken out.
“No,” I say. “And even if I did, there’s no way I’m getting back into that boat yet.” My answer comes out abrupt and harsh. I’m annoyed that he’s already doubting me.
I get up and brush the dirt off my jeans.
“Okay, let’s get on with it, shall we?”
Without waiting for him to respond, I set off toward the woods. It takes a few seconds for him to catch up. When we come to the first trees, he mutters, “Hey, I’m sorry.”
My first instinct is to ignore him, but I don’t want to sulk. We’re here now, on solid ground, and yes, he might be a pain, but there are worse things.
Like whatever awaits us in the woods. Or in the sea.
“It’s okay,” I mutter back.
We reach the edge of the woods, and Rasmus stops. He stares at the damp brown tree trunks that soon condense into one dark mass. There are quite a few people living on Runmaro, almost three hundred, but in this moment the island may as well be deserted. We could be the only living beings here.
Besides what might be lurking in the shadows.
“What are we going to do?” Rasmus asks. “If we find something?”
An image of Axel’s lifeless body laid out in the moss appears in my mind’s eye, and a shiver runs through me. “I don’t know.”
“What if they do the same thing they did last time . . . ?”
It dawns on me why Rasmus seems so tense. The memory of his vacant eyes and lurching walk makes me think twice. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. Maybe we should go back and let the police handle it.
We’re just a couple of kids. That’s all.
But the prospect of getting back into that boat is even worse.
“They’re not going to take you,” I say quietly. “I’m with you this time. I’ll stay by your side, I promise.”
Rasmus shoves his hands into his jacket pockets.
I wait, wondering whether he’s going to back out, almost hoping that he loses his nerve. Then I wouldn’t have to be here, either, among rain-soaked bushes and gnarled pines.
Rasmus just nods and smiles a weak, joyless smile. “Come on.”
“Okay,” I say. “Let’s do this.”
I sound a lot more convinced than I feel.