Page 83 of Playing With Matches
Rory and Rob exchange a look, and then Rory nods at Rob and pushes her seat back.
“Okay, I’m gonna let you dudes talk this one out. We’ve got a lot to do to get ready for the finale tonight.”
“Is that cooler on the boat?” Rob asks.
“Yep. All loaded up and good to go.”
Rob checks his watch, “Listen, I have to head out on a boat in fifteen minutes. We’re shooting some quick B-roll of the wildlife at the nearby nature preserve. Great stuff for color. Why don’t you come along for the ride, and we’ll brainstorm some ideas, okay?”
“I was planning to bring back breakfast for Isla,” I start to say.
“We won’t be long. It’s barely eight. I’ll text Rory to bring something over and let her know.”
“You think?” I look doubtfully over my shoulder.
“Absolutely,” Rob says with assurance. “She probably won’t even be up yet by the time we get back.”
* * *
“Where’s the camera crew?”I ask. The speedboat driver cuts the engine as we glide toward the simple wooden dock jutting out from a wide, barren stretch of white sand. The small island is uninhabited by humans, although I can see a radio tower of some sort up on the peak. Dense mangroves line the shoreline, and I am delighted to see a giant egret take flight.
“Great snorkeling around here,” Rob says. “We’re not far from where we took the cast out the other day.”
Rob and I have barely exchanged three words since we left the buffet. The motor was too loud and the sea too rough for us to talk very much on the quick, exhilarating trip over.
“The crew got here before us. They’re probably over there by the shelter, setting up.” Rob points at a small lean-to, facing away from the beach and passes a large blue cooler to me. “Why don’t you hop out and bring them this cooler? I’m just gonna be a sec,” he holds up one finger as he gets his phone out. “I have to make a quick call. I have some solid ideas for you, though.”
I glance warily at the floating dock where a small lizard suns himself without a care in the world. Then I squint at the empty horizon. Nothing but water for miles.
“You going?” Rob asks. “I thought you were in a hurry?”
“Fine,” I say. “Just a sec.” I clap loudly like Isla did and the little demon skitters back towards the beach.
Phew.
I hold out an arm to steady myself, and I climb out with the cooler. Once I’m on the dock, I take a few careful steps, scanning the beach for any sign of the crew. “Are you sure they’re already here?”
The beach is empty and peaceful. Too peaceful. And there are no footsteps. Nohumanfootsteps. The sand is littered with skittery footprints.
“Hey, Rob, what did you say this island was called?” I ask, vaguely remembering something.
I turn back to the boat, where Rob is pocketing his phone.
“Reptile Isle,” he says. “The webcam feed of the iguanas is super popular. There are thousands of them here.”
He steps up onto the side of the boat, holding onto the boat’s awning, almost as if he’s about to step onto the dock with me. But then the boat driver fires up the engine.
“Sorry, Jackson,” he calls out as the boat backs away. “But you’ll be fine, I swear. You’ll survive. There’s water, bug spray, sunscreen, and some power bars in the cooler. Oh, and a radio. You might try calling Cappy. I have a feeling he’ll be back in the area. He left a packet of stuff at the bar last night. I think he actually might have meant it for you.”
Cappy?
“What the fuck, Rob?!” I shout as the boat backs away. “What the actual fuck?!”
“Patience, Jackson! I swear it will all work out! Worst case scenario, there’s a tour group coming tomorrow. Of course Isla will be gone by then,” he pauses thoughtfully. “It’d be better if you made it back before we finish filming the final Shell Ceremony.” Rob waves as the boat stops reversing, then it turns and motors away.
isla
“I’m just hoping I haven’t (bleeped) everything up. There’s a lot of things I still need to say.”
