Isle Royale Part 8

Chapter Sixteen.

Ian and Sally crept near the sitting room door at the base of the lighthouse. A guard stood close by, no more than twenty feet away, his back to them, puffing on a cigarette. He was sheltered from the rain under the heavy branches of a tree, which Sally noted wasn't the smartest place to take cover during a lightning storm. "Why is it," she whispered, "men always tempt the Fates?"

"Quiet now," said Ian, grasping the door and swinging it open. The two teenagers slipped inside without a sound, then latched the door behind them.

At the top of the tower, all was quiet except for the clock mechanism slowly turning the giant lamp prism. From down below, at the bottom of the spiral staircase, a door creaked open.

"Dad?" Ian's voice called out tentatively. The sound died out, replaced by the eerie silence. Several quiet moments pa.s.sed. Then, as the teenagers began their ascent, the sounds of footsteps on the metal staircase echoed up and down the tower.

On the floor of the empty lamp room, a pool of blood spread out on the metal surface. Next to the crimson stain lay a gold watch, shattered into a crazy mix of broken gla.s.s, gears, and springs.

Ian reached the top of the spiral staircase and stood there in the lamp room, his face registering shock. He bent down and picked up the remains of his father's watch, cradling it in one hand. Then he reached out and touched the blood on the floor. He stood back up and examined his red-stained finger. "Dad," he whispered hoa.r.s.ely.

As if on cue, Clarence suddenly popped his head up from the trapdoor leading to the lamp housing. The two teenagers jumped back in surprise at the disembodied head staring up at them from the floor.

"Dad!" Ian rushed over to Clarence and grabbed an arm, helping his father out of the narrow hole in the floor. After struggling for a few awkward moments, Clarence finally scrambled to his feet. He was a mess. He held a b.l.o.o.d.y rag to his forehead, and his crisp lightkeeper's uniform was torn and blood-smeared. Ian winced. "What happened?"

Clarence took a half step back and studied the teenagers standing expectantly in front of him. Ian and Sally were soaked to the skin, pant legs tattered, their faces streaked with blood and dirt. Clarence scowled. "What are you kids doing here?"

"We came to warn you," Sally blurted out. "Some hood chased us, but we lost him down at Sandy Point."

Clarence frowned in confusion. "What?"

"We saw LeBeck shoot a man down on the dock," Ian added.

To Ian's surprise, Clarence didn't look the least bit surprised by the news. "LeBeck kills people for breakfast, laddie. One of his men beat me up just to see if I bleed red."

Ian reached up and examined his father's wound. He cringed at the deep gash that tore through his scalp. "You look dizzy. You better sit down."

"Can't," Clarence snapped. "Got to tend the light. Bad storm." A wind gust rattled the windows, making everyone in the room jump. Clarence lowered his voice and leaned closer. "Och, they beat me a good one, laddie. Can barely stand. They're going to kill us, you know."

This was too much for Ian. Witnessing the murder, the chase through the woods, the fight at Sandy Point, the trek back through the storm-the night's events rushed back to him, overwhelming him. Tears welled up in Ian's eyes. "What are we gonna do, Dad?"

Clarence lashed out and slapped Ian hard on the cheek, the noise exploding off the lamp room walls. Sally gasped and put a hand to her mouth. Ian stood there, face flushed, his hands bunched up into fists.

"Snap out of it, boy," Clarence said urgently. "I need you kids clear-headed. Are you listening to me?" Ian nodded slowly, his cheek still burning with the pain. "Get to the Coast Guard station in Rock Harbor. But don't take the boat, for G.o.d's sake. Go by land. Understand?"

Ian stammered. "But that'll take..."

"If you go on the lake in this weather she'll eat you alive. Go by land. My G.o.d, boy, you're soaking wet." Ian's coat hung open, and Clarence watched as rainwater dripped to the floor. He hastily took off his uniform jacket and handed it to Ian. "Take your s.h.i.+rt off and put this on. You'll catch your death out there like that."

Ian did as he was told, peeling off his sodden s.h.i.+rt and donning his father's coat. He slipped the mackintosh back on, then stood up straight, waiting.

Clarence looked into his son's eyes, then smiled. He reached out a hand and gently cupped the side of his face. "Get out of here now. Get help, and haste ye back. We need you, Ian."

Chapter Seventeen.

Ian stumbled out the door of the lighthouse sitting room, stunned, apprehensive, and more than a little afraid. He walked off in the direction of his house, from which he could see forms moving back and forth across a lit window. The icy wind blew through him unnoticed. Ian squinted, s.h.i.+elding his face from the harsh rain. He moved faster across the lawn toward the house.

"Mom," he uttered, breaking into a run.

Just as he pa.s.sed the tree near the lighthouse, strong hands reached out and jerked him to the ground. He started to cry out, but a hand clamped down on his mouth. Lightning crackled overhead, and Ian could see a big thug looming over him, a cigarette dangling from a toothy grin.

"Lookee who showed up," the man said. "Boss is gonna love this." He picked up Ian completely off the ground, the boy's legs dangling and kicking in midair. "Come on, little boy. Someone wants to see you."

Just then, Ian heard a clang, a sickening collision of metal on bone. The thug's eyes rolled back in their sockets as he groaned once, released Ian, then fell to the ground like a sack of hammers.

Ian landed hard on his b.u.t.t on the rain-soaked gra.s.s, the thug motionless beside him. He looked up and saw Sally standing there, a shovel gripped in both hands.

"Where do you think you're going?" she said. Before Ian could reply, she put a finger to her lips and signaled him to be silent. She pointed to a window in her house.

Ian squinted through the rain and made out Edward Young and Sally's grandmother sitting on a couch in the living room, while two thugs paced back and forth, one of them gnawing on a chicken leg. Sally's father coughed violently, then doubled up in pain. Grandma put her arm around his shoulder to comfort him, then looked up at the thugs, glaring at them with contempt.

Sally bit her lower lip, her eyes haunted. "I hope my dad's okay."

"We need to get out of here," Ian said, his mind clear now as he remembered his father's instructions. "Gotta get help."

"This way."

They scrambled away across the lawn, toward the line of woods beyond the compound. But when they'd gone no farther than a few yards from the house, Ian suddenly heard voices coming from behind the tool shed off to their right.

"Wait!" Ian hissed, pulling back on Sally's arm. "My mom's still out here." They crouched low, then slowly crept toward the shed.

LeBeck set his Tommy gun against the wall of the toolshed and turned toward Collene. He moved close to her, desperate with desire. Collene was noticeably uncomfortable, her back pressed against the wall of the shed, her nails digging into her palms.

"I want to show you something," LeBeck said breathlessly. He gently took the gold locket from his coat pocket and presented it to her.

"My locket!" she exclaimed. "But I lost this years ago. How did you..." Collene examined the locket a moment, then opened it. Inside she found the photo of herself, taken many years ago. She looked up at LeBeck, frowning now. "You stole it."

"I had to have something to remember you by," he said hastily. "It saved my life. Look." He turned the locket over, showing her a deep dent in the metal. "It deflected a bullet heading for my heart."

Collene gulped. "Jean, I..."

"Have you ever been to Paris? It's wonderful, Collene. Let me take you there."

"No."

"I've got money. Lots of it. After tonight's job, I can take you off this cursed rock. Come with me to Paris, Collene."

She stared at him, horrified. "You know I can't."

For a brief moment, hate burned in LeBeck's eyes. "It's him, isn't it? That... lightkeeper." He spat the word out with contempt.

"Jean," Collene said, anxious for him to understand. "I couldn't wait for you any longer. You were in Europe all those years. You're the one who broke off the wedding, for G.o.d's sake."

"Only until I got better. I needed time, that's all."

"That's not what you said in your letters. Besides, how long did you expect me to wait?"

LeBeck looked away. "You told me you'd marry me," he said finally.

"Clarence was here for me, Jean. You weren't."

"But I'm here now," he said, looking back into her eyes. "I love you, Collene. I want you back."

"But why?" she asked, imploring him for an answer. LeBeck looked down at his shoes, unsure what to say. The conversation wasn't going as he'd planned at all, and he was on the verge of panicking.

"Why do you want me now?" she insisted. "Look at me. Jean, look at me!" She cupped his chin and forced him to look her in the eyes. "I'm old. I'm a mother. You can have anyone you want. Why me?"

LeBeck s.n.a.t.c.hed the locket back from her, gripping it in a tight fist. "Because you promised. You promised."

It was Collene's turn to look down. Her hand reached out, touching him on the chest.

"You should have waited for me, Collene," he continued, nearly in tears now.

"I'm sorry, Jean. I don't love you anymore."

The words. .h.i.t LeBeck like a shotgun to the chest. He stood there a moment, his face glazed with shock. He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it.

"I don't love you," Collene said again, slowly, deliberately. "I never will. You have to leave."

Something snapped inside LeBeck then. It was as if someone had lowered a red curtain in his mind, clouding all his thoughts with rage and despair. "Then I'll make you love me," he said through clenched teeth. He shoved her roughly against the wall of the shed and pressed himself on her, crus.h.i.+ng his lips to hers.

Collene tore her head to the side and grimaced. "Jean, no!" She struggled and tried to fight him off, but he responded by pinning her arms back. Collene snarled and brought a knee up into LeBeck's groin. He grunted in pain, then slammed her back hard against the wall again.

"Make you love me!" he shouted. His face now contorted with a snarl, he groped for her dress, then tore it off one shoulder.

"No!" Collene shrieked.

Suddenly, emerging from the shadows, Ian leapt forward, pocketknife gripped firmly in his hand. "Get away from her, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

LeBeck dodged to one side just as the knife swooped down, but Ian rammed the blade up to the hilt in LeBeck's b.u.t.tock. LeBeck howled in pain, dropping the locket to the ground.

"Ian!" screamed Collene. "Get out of here!"

Ian scooped up the locket in one swift motion, then grabbed LeBeck's Tommy gun and fumbled with the c.o.c.king bolt. Sally, half-hidden in the shadows, crouched behind Ian, ready to run.

LeBeck roared and jerked the knife out of his flesh, then staggered forward toward Ian. "Give me that locket, boy!"

"Run!" Collene ordered.

"Give me that locket!"

As Ian stumbled backward, still struggling with the machine gun, LeBeck raised the knife high, ready to strike. Collene took a step forward, her eyes wild with fear.

"Jean, for G.o.d's sake! No!"

LeBeck stopped and looked back at Collene. She stood still, hands out, pleading with her eyes. For one brief moment, the red veil lifted from his mind, and all the hate and self-loathing melted. He slowly lowered the knife.

Ian saw his chance and took off across the yard, with Sally following in close pursuit.

Startled at the sudden movement, LeBeck whirled and saw Ian running away, gun in one hand and locket in the other. The red veil returned. He scowled at Collene, then turned and limped after his prey.

Chapter Eighteen.

Ian and Sally dashed across the compound, rain pelting their mackintoshes as they headed back toward the houses. Ian led the way, awkwardly trying to pull back the c.o.c.king bolt on the Tommy gun while at the same time trying to keep his feet from slipping on the wet gra.s.s. Halfway across the compound, Sally caught up with him and gripped his arm, halting him momentarily. "Where are you going?" she demanded, her breathing ragged.

"To the rescue!" Ian said, voice quavering, as he held up the machine gun, his false bravado further betrayed by his trembling hands gripping the weapon.

"With that?" Sally said incredulously. "You've never shot a gun before in your life!"

Ian finally managed to pull back the bolt. "There," he said with satisfaction.

"We're going to the Coast Guard station," Sally said decisively, leaving no room for argument. "Come on." She took off again, toward the tramcar at the end of the compound, then stopped when she realized Ian hadn't followed. She turned and gestured impatiently. "Come on!"

Ian stood there holding the gun, undecided. Suddenly, LeBeck emerged from the shadows, limping but moving quickly across the gra.s.s. His face was contorted like a wild animal, his hook hand waving through the air in front of him. He spotted Ian and gave a wolf-like grin. "I'm commin' boy. I'm commin' for you!"

Ian bolted like a rabbit, sprinting across the compound and quickly catching up with Sally. They rounded the corner of the shed marking the end of the tramway rail and surprised a thug standing guard.

Sally moved to the tramcar while Ian leveled his Tommy gun at the hoodlum. "On the ground," he ordered. "Now!"

The thug, half-amused, raised his arms partway and feigned fright. "Now little boy," he said sweetly, "Don't shoot. Why don't you just give me that gun?"

Ian thrust the muzzle forward, his trigger finger twitching. "I said get down!"

Ian squeezed the trigger and shot off a burst into the ground in front of the thug. The rat-tat-tat sound of the machine gun ripped through the air, and the force of the blast nearly knocked Ian off his feet. Several shots went astray as the muzzle jumped up in Ian's hand. Finally he let go of the trigger and stood there, wide-eyed.

"Okay! Okay!" shouted the terrified thug, dropping to his knees. His beady eyes darted back and forth, watching for an opening.

Sally grabbed Ian by the arm and yanked him away. "On the tram. Quick."

The pair tumbled onto the flatbed tramcar. Sally disengaged the chain, then kicked away the emergency brake. The car started its free-fall descent and quickly gathered speed.