Page 98 of Hate Wrecked

“Aren’t you worried they’ll do something to you?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m only worried about you. Those do not look like researchers or anyone who is supposed to be here.”

From the trees, we watch the boat docking. A tall man with blonde hair leaps down, making his way onto the shore. Two other men join him, and together, they secure the boat to a tree.

Their voices are loud and excited—a tone of agitation laces the voice of the blond man.

There is no trace of us out in the open where they’ve landed, but just on the other side, there is evidence. From our vantage point, we watch them walk the shore, circling around to the other side. The side where I dropped my fishing pole.

And I see the blond man’s eyes land on it.

He looks at the other men, snapping his fingers.

I crouch down low, pulling Riley with me; my heart thundering in my chest. I don’t have a gun, but I have my body, my training, my skill set.

Three to one. Those are not good odds.

We watch the men canvass the area, their voices growing louder as they walk closer to us. I need to say something, talk with them, and get to them before they find any evidence that there are two of us.

I look at Riley, kissing her forehead before I leave.

When I walk out of the tree line, the blond man sees me first. I offer a wave and make myself look as non-threatening as possible—an act to get what I want.

“Thank God,” I say, my face pulling into a smile. “I thought no one would ever come.”

The other men turn at my voice, walking toward me as well.

“Was that your boat we saw on the north reef?” the blond man asks.

I nod. “Yes. I’ve been here for months.”

“Well damn,” he laughs, shaking his head. “Are you okay...what’s your name?”

I offer my hand when I reach him, and he shakes it. “Rowan Finn. I was aboard the Vanishing Point with a Captain Daniels. He had a heart attack while manning the boat.”

“Is that so?” the man asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I had to bury him on Bunker Island. I’m so glad you’re here. I knew someone would come eventually, but now I can make sure he gets home to his family.”

The other two men join us, and I assess them. The one to the right of the blond man—who I assume is their leader—has a black eye. The other has a faded prison tattoo on his left forearm. The blond man clears his throat. “I can’t imagine how awful that must have been, Mr. Finn. I’m Butch. This is Chuck, and that’s Domet.” He motions to them—Chuck with the black eye, Domet with the tattoo.

“I assume you have a way to radio to the mainland?” I ask, crossing my arms. “I don’t think anyone would envy a stay in paradise, but I’m eager to get home to my family,” I say. “The radio on our boat was damaged in the crash.”

The blond man nods. “Absolutely. I’ll radio as soon as we get back on the boat. You can even stay with us. I’m sure staying at the Hilton has merits,” he laughs, and the other men join. “But nothing can beat a warm shower and clean sheets.

I eye their boat. They don’t match it. It doesn’t look like it belongs to them.

They look like men you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley.

They look like men someone wouldn’t want to meet out here.

And the wordsthe Hiltonring in my ears. He’s been here before.

“Thank you. I appreciate it. But I don’t want to put you out. How long are you staying? Maybe I’ll get lucky, and they’ll send a plane to pick me up.”

The blond man looks at his friends. “We aren’t staying long.”

“First time to Elderslie?” I ask.

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