had travelled far to bring them to a new day.
There was a stir of tension. Something had happened in the night. Taken to Mike’s office the two girls were not left in doubt. Mike was displeased.
'You were right, honey,' he conceded grimly. Then, looking at Terry: 'That brother of yours has been raising Cain.'
Dorinda’s heart leaped. Mike noted the sudden radiance that lit the face of his audience.
'Don’t get them little twats twitching too soon,' he added sourly. 'I’m not taking any chances. I’m dumping you but I ain’t taking you back to Kyrexos and I’m damned if I’ll put you ashore at a port. That leaves two choices: a weight tied to your ankles and toss you overboard, or put you ashore where no one will notice.'
He laughed at their dismay. 'You think I just might use that bit of lead. I ought to, but I won’t.' He chuckled as at some secret knowledge. 'Could be you’ll come to wish I had…'
He was interrupted by the arrival of Cuth with a slip of paper. The youth eyed the girls hungrily and departed. Mike scanned the missive before turning his attention back to his captives. 'Radio,' he explained tersely. 'We ain’t out of touch. That’s how I know about the hunt that’s on for you.'
'But you can’t hide this boat forever,' Dorinda said puzzled.
'Honey, I don’t have to. Nobody saw you get on and nobody saw you get off. Suspicious, sure. But no proof.'
'And you think we’ll just keep quiet about all you’ve done -' Terry bit her lip. Dorinda watched Mike’s slow smile agonizedly. 'Sugarpot, you can talk all you want. If you can get someone to listen.' Again the knowing chuckle as at things unseen.
Dorinda’s hope dissolved into awful premonition.
It was neat and functional. Absurd, but cruelly explicit.
'Promised you a surprise at the end,' Mike said.
Dorinda stared at him in disbelief. 'You wouldn’t…'
'Sure I would, sugar. Plenty of precedents.'
'But like this!' His captive twisted her shoulders and tugged at the prisoned wrists behind her back.
She could not take her eyes from it. Terry – too – stared in shocked fascination. A simple plank! It jutted far out over and beyond the deck to which it was secured.
'All the best captains used it,' Mike jibed. 'A girl said ‘non, she got to walk the plank.'
'But we haven’t said ‘non’. We did our best yesterday!'
'Right you are, honey. So you get to wear this nice little decoration.'
Mike tightly knotted a leather lace round each slender neck. On it was the handcuff key. 'Take you a little time to untie them knots,' he opinioned cheerfully. 'In fact you might not be able to undo ‘em at all. But that’s the luck of draw. Can’t say good old Mike didn’t give you a sporting chance.'
'But you can’t dump us in the sea with our hands handcuffed behind!'
'Sure can, honey. You got a medal for swimming and Mabel told me the kid here swims like a fish. We’re right in close. You’ll get your feet on the sand after fifty yards or so.'
'Oh Mike, why make us do this. It’s dangerous.' Dorinda was aghast at what lay ahead.
'Ads a bit of spice,' Mike suggested equably. 'If you make it to the shore you’ll find yourself in one of those wog spots, ain’t quite sure where.'
'Handcuffed and naked?'
'Well, ain’t got it in for you girls all that bad. And I don’t like the idea of them wogs looking at them pretty little quims first off. So, as a special concession mind you, I’m going to give you these.' He displayed two swimming trunks.
'You know we can’t put them on, the way we’re fixed.' Dorinda felt ridiculous gratitude, even though she blushed furiously as her captor tugged the stretchy material into place.
'No halter?' Terry asked wanly.
'Don’t push, sugarpot. You’re fifty percent ahead of where you were. Now just to give you both a good send 0ff, young Cuth has got one of Alfred’s big pots and he will give you a drum roll as you walk out on that plank. Sort of make a real occasion out of it.' He surveyed his captives benignly.
Dorinda’s mind was working furiously. They could face death. Mike obviously did not think so – or did he? She was thankful for the swimming instructor who had made a span up and down the pool with hands tied as hers now were an essential part of the tests. But the pool was one thing. This wide enough stretch of see was something else. Even after they survived they would be on an inhospitable shore, sand and rocks and scrub. No sign of life.
'Well, little ladies. The time has come,' Mike announced grandly.
Cuth appeared with his pot and a pair of wooden spoons. At a sign from his employer he produced a quite surprising response from the metal and the wood. Despite the absurdity and the fear Dorinda’s pulse quickened. The rat-tat-tat of the spoons gave an incredible validity to what they must do. Resolutely, she strode towards the plank.
Her first step upon the narrow width was easy. The second brought a sense of isolation. At the third she knew panic. She was a girl alone, naked, her steps set upon a brief and insecure path from which she might easily slip and which came to an abrupt end. Beneath her was the enigmatic sea, a deep pit in which eyes might watch and jaws and tentacles lay in wait. Another step. Now she felt her arms tense and strain, her wrists rebelling against the steel that held them close. The handcuffs were the most frightening facet of her plight, they made her a prey to evil chance or hostile intent.
Before the last fatal stride, Dorinda did the thing she had promised herself not to do at all. She caught Mike’s absorbed gaze. 'Please don’t do this,' she asked simply.
He did not speak. He did nothing but drink in the loveliness and the fear of the girl who must now plunge to an unknown fate. Myron made a menacing gesture with the pole and advanced one foot on the plank. Cuth beat his improvised drum into a fierce tattoo. Dorinda turned and dived.
As time is measured it was short. A black awfulness of pumping legs and twisting torso, great gulps of air thankfully but briefly achieved. Dorinda knew that without the training the handcuffs would have knelled her death. When her feet found the sand her first thought was of Terry.
But the younger girl was superb. Evading startled hands she had leaped after the falling figure of her love and, ignoring the plank, plunged directly from the rail. She might have been a dolphin or a seal so adeptly did she slice the water and defeat it with her slender nudity. The two girls waded to the shore together.
'Piece of cake,' Terry said.
'Thank god you are safe.' It was all Dorinda could think of to say. They could not embrace. She herself felt a great thankfulness.
'When we get out of site of those rotten kooks I’m going to chew one of these keys loose,' Terry promised.
Without a backward glance they trudged up the slope of a dune, their bodies quickly drying in the sun.
It lay before them in a hollow. A shining new Land Rover. An incongruous intrusion of civilisation in the wilderness. It stood alone, welcoming strangers as a spray of flowers might have done. There was no one in sight.
'Think we might snatch it?' Terry was ecstatic.
Dorinda had the sensation of too much happening too fast. She turned and looked back. The Quest’s anchor was being hauled aboard. A careless arm was waved in desultory salute of farewell. Even had she been able she would not have returned the raised arm. She transferred her attention to the inland instead.
CHAPTER 4
'I knew what was to happen to me the next day. Had I not written it in the letter? I stood with my arms tied high and wide. They took great care that the bands of cord round my wrists were very tight. They even took close ups to show how securely my hands were held.' Thalia chuckled. 'I have learnt since that such pictures are sold at good prices all over the world. No doubt my kidnappers saw this as a small extra perquisite of their operation.'
