PREDATOR ISLAND (Sea Lab Book 2)

CHAPTER 32

After catching his breath, Jake checked on Sarah. He knew she was more than capable of looking out for herself. In fact, she'd proved she was able to take care of him too. But he didn't care. His protective nature revealed itself with little effort. It was an instinct, deeply buried beneath the surface. A character trait he couldn't deny. However, he couldn't deny fear either. Its claws gripped his heart before—exactly three and a half weeks ago when the Japanese hitman, Takeshi Ishikawa, kidnapped Sarah and sent Tony and himself off to their deaths. He overcame it by focusing on her rescue. That's how he fought his inner battles, by keeping his eye on her. And in return, he didn't care if she watched out for him too. At the moment, it was a silent but mutual agreement between the two of them. One he hoped that wouldn't end.

Everyone busied theirselves by taking stock of supplies while trying to dry out in the sun. The latter would happen, eventually, but they'd lost Tony and Sarah's backpack. In the escape, they'd left their bags upriver at the campsite, and Dylan didn't think it was worth the time loss to go back. He was right, but that presented a few problems going forward, like deducting two bags worth of food and water, and negating two flashlights if they became necessary. The water could be replaced at the river, and the torches might not be needed or wanted at night with the massive feline on their trail. But food was another thing. Jake would have to share his provisions with Sarah, and Rachel would have to share hers with Tony. They'd have to make it work.

Fortunately, Dylan kept his radio in a waterproof bag. Savannah had an extra one, in case one of them broke, and in case they got separated. After talking with Jake about the big feline predator and the fact that he'd wounded it, he had an idea.

"That cat is like nothing I've ever seen," Dylan said. "I bet, with my resources and your connections, we can figure out what it is. Doing so might help us kill it."

"I like the way you're thinking," Jake replied, his eye catching Sarah as she knelt down and cupped her hands in the clear water and sipped. The sight made him remember they needed to refill their canteens. "I'd like to find out what that thing is too. But as long as we're keeping Cat O'Donnell and Sea Lab out of the loop, we'll have to rely on the people you know. So, I guess we'll be using your resources and your connections."

"Fair enough. I thought you might say that. It was my idea from the start to leave your people in the dark. But I may have a cleaver alternative. I know someone."

"Good. What's your plan?"

"You'll see soon enough." Dylan held the radio to his lips and said, "Marlon, you there?"

The yacht captain answered right away. "Yup. Whatcha need."

Dylan explained the situation, mentioned a woman by name, and ended the call.

"I have a friend in San Jose who works at a zoo. She may be able to analyze a blood sample."

"Nice," Jake said. "What's the turn around?"

"Well, a boat ride will take you three days, but a seaplane knocks it down to less than twenty-four hours. A flight here to pick up the sample, a little cash to keep her and her pilot zip-lipped—you can come off some of your share—can't you?"

Jake frowned. "Sure. Whatever. As long your friend comes through."

"She will. Like I was saying, a day here, a day back to the mainland, time to rush through a battery of tests, and a simple phone call. Less than three days."

"We might be dead by then."

"But at least we'll know what killed us...or someone will."

With that, Jake winced and turned to Sarah, who'd walked up and heard the end of the conversation. "Guess that signifies our demise."

"Don't be so pessimistic," she said.

Jake nodded quietly in reply.

In thirty minutes, a drone buzzed overhead and touched down on a rock near the riverside. Dylan signaled Rachel to go to work. She removed a tiny glass vial from a sampling kit in her backpack, dabbed the dried blood with a cue tip, dropped it inside and screwed the lid on tight.

Dylan placed the vial inside a compartment on the bottom of the triple-bladed drone, and then radioed Marlon for the return flight to the yacht. He mentioned that from the last clue on the map, they were heading southwest of their current position. As the drone buzzed away, Dr. Graham looked on with a furrowed brow, and oddly, remained quiet.

At the sight of the doctor's grim expression, Jake bit his bottom lip, remembering how Graham had ruffled through his bag the night before. He wondered if his bag was the only one he'd went through?

"We set to go?" Savannah said, shouldering her pack.

Tony and Rachel nodded, as did Jake and Sarah.

"We're ready for the third clue," Savannah added, "and now we have a general direction to search from, a southwest heading from the serpent's head."

After that, they resumed the hike through the jungle, except now, they were back on the other side of the river.

While Dylan kept their bearing with the compass, Savannah once again buried her nose in the old map. Of the which, Dr. Graham returned to his usual self and persisted in peeking over her shoulder as the group moved along. Although Sarah knew about the prior incident, Jake hadn't said anything to anyone else about the doctor rummaging through his backpack. And Sarah hadn't either. They conspired to keep it to theirselves for the time being, but with the agreement to keep a watchful eye on Graham for the remainder of their time on the island. They hoped the doctor was hungry as he'd said.

"So," Savannah said as they walked, "the third and final clue on the map says, 'One mouth swallows the mist that clouds the way'."

"Let's talk this through," Dylan replied, whacking at jungle foliage between breaths. "We have our heading, a general direction. From the serpent's head location on the store bought map, where does that lead us?"

"May I?" Dr. Graham said.

Savannah smirked but handed the newer map of the island over to the doctor.

"I studied the layout of the island before I arrived. And our heading gives it away, at least in my mind. I may know where we need to go."

"Do share," Dylan said.

Jake glanced at Sarah and released a small smile. Tony and Rachel were behind them, quietly plodding along.

"Cerro Yglesia."

"A volcano?" Dylan replied.

"An inactive one. Dormant, whatever, but regardless it may still harbor some fire in its belly."

"Let's hope not," Rachel said. "That's just what we need is to add lava to our list of things that might kill us."

"Touché," Dylan replied.

"What I was getting at," Graham continued, "is my flight over the island when I arrived. You're not the only one with access to a seaplane." He grinned at Dylan. "From the air, I observed the nearly two thousand foot peak of Cerro Yglesia, and..."

"That's a serious climb," Jake said.

"And...I noticed a lagoon that had formed in a crater, roughly less than halfway up the mountainside. Hence, the mist in the clue, and another key...the word swallows."

"Go on," Sarah said. "You may be onto something."

"The lagoon could be heated by the volcano, creating a mist."

"And what does swallows refer to," Tony said. "That doesn't sound good."

"That, we'll have figure out, but at least we know where to go in the meantime."