Island 731

were opened wide, turned to the ceiling, his face contorted in an expression of raw pain. He’d either regained consciousness before the attack, or the pain had woken him. Either way, he’d experienced the agony of being split in two.

Bray groaned and backed away, performing the sign of the cross and saying “Oh God,” again and again.

Hawkins forced himself closer, looking for details about how this had happened. When he found it, he backed away, too. A portion of the man’s right lower leg had been crushed, the flesh stretched and purple. The same mark had been left on his shoulder.

“He was pulled apart,” Hawkins said, his voice almost a whisper.

“What kind of person could do this?” Bray asked.

Hawkins wasn’t sure if Bray was referring to the brute strength it would take to rend a man in half at the waist or the mental state a person would have to be in to perform the task. He looked back at his friend, who did nothing to hide the fear and revulsion on his face. “Maybe ‘what kind of person?’ is the wrong question.”

Hawkins forced himself back to the bedside. He took a blanket from a neighboring bed, opened it, and flung it over the body. He turned back to Bray. “Because I can’t even begin to imagine a human being capable of something like this.”

19.

Drake’s face twitched as Hawkins gave his report, detailing the state in which they’d found Sanchez’s remains. The good news, however, was that he and Bray had searched every nook and cranny of the Magellan’s interior and found nothing. Locked inside, they were safe. When Hawkins finished, the remaining crew—Blok, Bray, Joliet, Bennett, and Ray and Jim Clifton—sat silently, faces turned down to the blue rug beneath their feet.

Jones lay on the couch, conscious now, but silent, staring up at the ceiling. He’d regained consciousness just a few minutes after Hawkins and Bray had begun their search, but hadn’t said anything. Hawkins had seen the look once before, seven years ago, on the face of a man whose son had fallen over a cliff. It was the look of a man mourning the loss of a loved one.

Jones looked like he’d given up hope, which Hawkins resented. DeWinter might still be alive. Giving up on her now would be a mistake and would certainly seal her fate. They didn’t know why Kam or DeWinter had been taken. Both could be dead, or alive, but there was only one way to find out.

Bennett lowered his face into his hands and mumbled, “Why is this happening?”

Hawkins thought the question was rhetorical, but Joliet knelt down in front of him and pulled his hands away. “Phil, we’re safe now. You don’t need to be afraid.”

“But it took her,” he replied. “Jackie is gone.”

“Kam, too,” Bray muttered. “Thought you two were pals?”

“Eight,” Hawkins said, using Bray’s nickname. “Give him a break.”

Bray shrugged. “Just saying.”

Bennett wiped his arm across his nose and pulled away from Joliet. “I’m fine.”

Joliet stood and shot Bray a look.

He raised his hands in frustration. “What?”

Hawkins could feel the tension building in the room. If things weren’t worked out, and soon, they’d all be at each other’s throats. “Sir,” he said, his voice stopping Drake midpace. The man’s face burned red. His sharp blue eyes flicked to Hawkins. “I know it might make sense to cut our losses and leave, but—”

“The hell with that,” Drake said. He pointed to Jones. “That man is my oldest friend. I’m Jackie’s godfather, for shit’s sake. We’re not leaving.”

Hawkins held up his hands. “I don’t want to leave. I want to go look for her. And Kam. Bray, Joliet, and Blok will accompany me. We’ll take weapons and enough supplies for a week.”

“Not good enough,” Drake said.

“I don’t understand,” Hawkins replied.

Drake picked up the fire ax Bray had used. The muscles in his forearms twitched as he twisted the wooden handle. “I’m coming with you.”

The captain had at least fifty pounds on Hawkins and held that ax like he knew how to use it. He’d be good to have along, but given Drake’s previous reservations about leaving the ship, Hawkins felt he should play devil’s advocate, just in case the man wasn’t thinking straight. “What happened to staying with the ship? If something were to happen to you, would we be stuck here, working engines or not?”

Drake mulled the question, patting the ax handle in the palm of his hand. “Blok will stay on board. He’ll have no trouble getting the Magellan back to the mainland.”

Hawkins glanced at Blok. The man nodded, validating the captain’s statement, though Hawkins wasn’t sure if the man was simply afraid of leaving the safety of the sealed ship.

“This is no longer a search and rescue mission,” Drake said. “Our people are not lost. They were taken. We’re not going to find them sitting on a rock, munching coconuts. We’re going to have to take them back. By force. You and I both know that you can handle that. But can he?” Drake pointed to Bray, who looked supremely uncomfortable at being singled out, and equally confused. Drake’s finger shifted to Joliet. “Can she? I can tell you from experience that Blok here can’t stand the sight of spiders. That the kind of man you want in a hostile environment? Or do you want someone like you? Someone who can do what needs to be done?”

While Hawkins didn’t know Drake’s detailed past, he suspected the man had been in the navy—maybe even as a SEAL. In his current state, he definitely seemed capable of defending himself. He looked at Blok. The skinny bookworm probably wouldn’t be much use in a fight. With a nod, he said, “I never disagreed. Just wanted you to be sure.”

“I’m sure,” Drake said. “Jim, Ray.”

The Clifton brothers both looked up. They wore twin masks of discomfort, probably wondering what Drake was going to ask of them. “See to Jones while we’re gone. Anything he wants, you get it for him.”

The brothers looked relieved. Ray even gave a salute. “We will. Of course. No problem.”

“Bennett.”

The skinny kid stood silently, looking at Drake. He kept his head up, but a quivering lowered lip revealed the boy was terrified. And rightfully so. Being brave while looking at a dissected turtle was one thing; facing the possibility of being kidnapped, killed, or maimed was something else entirely. Some people just couldn’t do it, no matter how desperate the situation. The look in Bennett’s eyes was easy to read—a little more pressure and he’d break.

To his credit, Drake adjusted his tone and body language. He placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Look, Phil, I know you’re scared. But here’s the situation. Jones isn’t feeling like himself right now. DeWinter’s missing. That makes you my chief engineer. You copy?”

Bennett nodded quickly. “Yes… yes, sir.”

“While we’re gone, I want you to keep working on the ship’s controls. See if you can’t have us in a better situation than we are right now. You’re a smart kid. You can do it.”

Bennett lowered his head. “But… down there is where—”

“The ship is clear,” Hawkins said. “Seal the doors after we leave and don’t open them until we get back. No one will bother you.”

Bennett still looked unsure, but nodded. “Okay.”

“One last thing,” Hawkins said to Drake. “On the ship, you’re in charge without question. But out there, in the jungle, you need to do what I say. If I say jump, you jump. If I say duck, you duck. Not listening to me could get you killed. Deal?”

Drake stared at Hawkins for just a moment before allowing a slight grin. He took Hawkins’s hand and shook it. “Deal.”

Hawkins turned to Bray and Joliet, who were standing by the door, looking ready to leave. He appreciated