on the ground. Kate went over to join him. The trees gave way to a plain of black rock — beyond which, almost a mile away, loomed the mountains. “Most of this ground’s too hard to take a track,” Milligan said as Kate knelt beside him. “Except for here.” He indicated a wide patch of gravel in which some kind of heavy tread had left an imprint.
“What is that, a bulldozer track?” Kate asked, wondering how a bulldozer — or any heavy machinery, for that matter — could have come here.
“An amphibious vehicle,” Milligan said. “I figured this was why we didn’t see any boats. Mr. Curtain has a Salamander.”
“A what?”
“Picture an armored boat with tank treads. Fast on land, even faster on water. Big enough to carry Curtain and a whole crew of Ten Men, with plenty of room to spare for prisoners.”
“That figures,” said Kate, who was hardly surprised to learn that Mr. Curtain had an intimidating machine to carry him and his thugs around. He had terrorized the children at the Institute with his screeching, souped-up wheelchair, and the Salamander sounded rather like an oversized version of that wicked contraption.
“It came from that direction,” Milligan said, pointing northeast. “I imagine they landed in the bay but had to skirt the forest, which is too thick for the Salamander to pass through. Probably they drove the island perimeter, dropping off scouts along the way. Ten Men are good trackers. Mr. Benedict and Number Two would have had no chance of hiding and nowhere to run.” Milligan ground his heel into the Salamander track, angry at the thought of his friends being hunted.
“Where do you think they are?” asked Kate, who was feeling the same way. She imagined herself finding Mr. Curtain and pummeling him about the ears, though in reality she knew she was no match for him alone.
“I suspect they’re holed up in the mountains,” Milligan said. “We didn’t see the Salamander from the plane, so it’s probably hidden inside a gully or a cave.”
Sticky came over to tell them Constance was finishing the puzzle. It had only taken her a few minutes. They went back just as she was placing the last piece. Before them lay a map of the island, which must have been modeled after the one Mr. Benedict had taken from Han de Reizeger’s letter. Mr. Benedict had chosen to depict only certain parts of the island, and had done so simply but artfully, with a swath of upright arrows indicating the little forest, three swooping curves for the mountains, and a dense group of squares representing the village on the other side. A dotted line ran straight through the bottom of the middle mountain, ending at the village.
“What’s the dotted line, do you think?” asked Constance.
“Most likely a tunnel, given its placement,” said Milligan. He knelt and tapped his finger on the village. “This must be where you were to meet them, which makes it my next stop.”
“
Milligan stood. “You’ll stay here under cover of the forest. I’ve searched in all directions and seen no sign of anyone coming — and believe me, if we’d been spotted someone would definitely be coming — so here is where you’ll be safest. Just don’t use your flashlight, Kate, and keep quiet, all of you. Keep yourselves out of sight and your eyes and ears open. If I don’t return by —”
“Milligan!” Constance interrupted in a scolding tone. “You haven’t even seen the other
“The other side?” Milligan hadn’t heard them discussing this part. “There’s more?”
“Give me a minute,” said Kate, reaching into her bucket. She took out her pencil-sized paintbrush and her bottle of extra-strength glue and quickly brushed the glue over the seams between puzzle pieces. “It takes about thirty- five seconds to set properly,” she said. No one doubted the number — everyone knew Kate would have counted to be sure — and indeed, when Kate lifted the puzzle thirty-five seconds later, its pieces held firmly together. “This way we can flip it back and forth if we need to,” she said, “without it falling all apart.”
Kate laid the map face-down onto the ground, revealing on its back a series of dashes and dots that were perfectly familiar to everyone.
“Wouldn’t you know it?” Reynie said, smiling.
Mr. Benedict had had them learn Morse code for their mission to the Institute, and they all could still read it. But because Sticky was the fastest translator, the others had always relied on him to handle their coded messages, and despite the time that had passed they resorted to their old habit and turned to him now. Sticky grinned — a little shyly and a little proudly — and translated the message:
Glad you are here. In the village find supplies and a clue, for we may be out when you arrive. The clue will lead you to us. Until soon. B.
“Another clue!” Kate cried triumphantly. “So you have to take us, Milligan. You know you do!”
To their surprise, Milligan looked relieved. “I’d rather keep you close as long as possible, anyway. Still, we can’t just assume the village is safe.” He considered a moment. “All right, here’s what we’ll do. We’ll cross the plain to the foot of the mountains. You’ll wait there until I scout out the tunnel and the village. If all’s clear, I’ll take you to the village and we can see about that clue. Once we’ve solved it, though, I’m bringing you back here. I want no arguments about that.”
The children agreed and prepared to set out right away, but Milligan said they would wait for it to get darker. The darker it was when they crossed that exposed plain, the better.
“We should also lose the map,” Milligan said. “Carrying it will slow us down, and I want to get across as fast as possible.”
“Constance and I will hide it,” said Reynie, noticing the sad look in the tiny girl’s eyes. He knew what she was thinking. The wind-chime map was another example of the trouble Mr. Benedict had taken on their behalf — another testament to his fondness for them — and it might well be his last, for there was no guarantee he’d left the next clue before his capture. Reynie suspected Constance might like another minute with the map, a suspicion confirmed when she didn’t grumble at him for volunteering her.
“Do you suppose we should bury it?” Constance asked as they moved a little deeper into the trees.
Reynie shook his head. Burying the map would seem too reminiscent of a funeral, he thought, and Constance might fall apart. “Let’s just cover it with spruce needles and twigs.”
