"Have you ever shown anyone how to get to the grottos?"
"No. I've never been there myself. But the old folks of my time used to say anyone brave enough to find them could live their entire lives in them."
"So, it's not a small place?"
"No."
"Thank you, Joshua."
I spend the rest of the afternoon researching the island. There isn't as much about it as I would like for there to be. Because it is a private island, and apparently has been for quite some time, extensive mapping is limited. What needs to be done is something that can only be done once, so I need to be absolutely sure I'm right.
I'm packing my supply pack in my room that evening when Alonso appears at my door again. I'm almost uncomfortable now that I know about his attraction to me, but he only lets his eyes linger on me for a second before we go inside.
“I just wanted to let you know Frederick has already seen Agent Harding and has taken notice of her,” he says. “She will be in room 312.”
“Good,” I nod. “Was Sam able to get a reservation without a problem?”
“I spoke to him briefly, and he said that there was some resistance until he used the words you told him to use, then Constance happily gave him a room.”
I nod, feeling uncomfortable about having to connect Sam and Alonso to handle the details of what I'm planning. As much as I hate it, I need to stay as distant from Sam as possible until this is done. I can't afford for anybody to know we're connected, and he needs to work closely with Alonso to ensure he does and says everything he needs to in order to fit the narrative. I keep telling myself this won't be forever. It will be over soon enough.
“When will he put in the request?”
“Soon,” Alonso says. “We agreed he would add urgency to the request by saying how lonely he is to be here at night alone. Then he will describe his ideal girl and offer a premium to have that description fulfilled.” He looks at his watch. “Bellamy is down by the pool by now. Are you sure about this?”
“Yes,” I tell him. “Just keep them away as long as you can.”
“I will do my best,” he promises. Tossing my bag onto my back, I give him a single nod and move quickly out of my room. Pain still echoes through my body, but I force it down and ignore it. I managed to get into Emmanuel's room; I can do this. I have to do this. There's no choice. This is my one chance, the one opportunity I have to save six women.
Joshua's boat bobs at the edge of the water. I asked him not to bring it up to the dock, but to leave it near the pier at the bottom of the rocks where it would stay safe, but where nobody would see me disembark. I need to be as invisible as I possibly can.
This boat is much smaller and older than the one I rented from the resort, so it takes longer to drive out into the water and make the large curve that will keep me out of sight. The water is smooth and clear, almost eerily calm despite the hammering in my heart.
I make my way to the outcropping of rocks and the strange sanctuary sign that seems to mean nothing. The oxygen tank I saw on the rocks the first time I was there is gone. It tells me exactly what I needed to know. I anchor the boat to a nearby rock and bring the engine to a stop.
Kicking off my shoes, I peel away my clothes and change quickly into my wetsuit. Bracing myself and putting all my trust in my instincts, I stand up. The small boat rocks and moves under my feet, but I'm able to gain enough purchase to gather myself and take a deep breath.
I lower my mask and snorkel over my face and plunge down into the water.
My eyes open. Everything around me is dark. I turn on the flashlight strapped to my arm. The waterproof device came right out of Alonso's emergency supply kit and creates what feels like a protective glow around me.
It takes only a matter of seconds for me to see the gap in the rock wall in front of me. The water moving over it causes the waves to jump up and spray more aggressively than they would without the gap. A shock of trepidation goes through my chest, but I don't hesitate.
I kick as hard as I can, propelling myself down toward the gap, and squeeze through. Panic is starting to set in slightly. Even though I know I'm safe, fear is pressing in around me, making me want to take a breath. I feel desperate to rise up to the surface. But I can't. I’m surrounded on all sides by rocks. I’m too deep now to come up for air. There’s no way out but forward.
I follow the hazy beam of light through the underground tunnel for what seems like forever, pushing and straining every muscle to try to get through. My lungs are burning. My heart is racing. But I have to keep going. Those women are depending on me.
And then the pressure is suddenly gone. The rocks give way, and I shoot upward to the surface. My lungs fill joyfully, desperate for every tiny amount of oxygen I can give them. I rip the snorkel out of my mouth and take a few deep breaths as I drift toward an edge.
The flashlight reveals what I’d expected: I'm in an underground chamber with water filling the bottom and a towering ceiling. I swim over to the edge and climb out. I look around every which way, but there’s only one place to go. Ahead of me is
