Killer Heat

FIFTY-SEVEN

Troy Rasheed was still screaming when I ran out through the gates of the fortress, crossed the drawbridge, and raced across the grassy lawn that sloped downhill. I didn't care whether he had laid traps that would ensnare or injure me. Anything would be better than the torturous death that he had planned.

I stayed on the cobblestone path, shouting Mike's name as loud as I could. The smooth, cold stones felt good beneath my feet, and the pebbles that peppered them barely slowed me down.

I veered to the right when I saw the roadway that led into Nolan Park, up to the Governor's House. In less than three minutes, I reached the porch of the old building. The door was wide open. I called for Mike and for Pam Lear, but the house was deadly still.

I stood on top of the steps, looking out on the quiet scene. Then I remembered the old bell buoy, the one Mike and Mercer and I had passed on the first day. It was closer to the Governor's House than the Park Service office. I could be there in seconds, making more noise than this island had heard in centuries.

I flew down the steps and took off to the left, sticking to the cobblestone path.

The bright green and red bell buoy was more than twenty feet tall. The huge base on which it rested, once bobbing in the sea to warn passing ships, was waist high. I climbed onto it, resting the bloody knife on the ground, working my way inside the frame of the structure.

The brass bell resting in the metal grid was five times the size of my head. I grabbed it with both hands and stood back. With a deafening clang, the clapper struck against the side of the bell. It rocked from side to side, with a clamor that should have alerted anyone in the city that there was life on the little island.

Once it settled down, I released it a second time, then jumped down from the buoy and started on the roadway to check on Mercer and call for help.

I was running on pure adrenaline now. Halfway down the hill, I heard Mike calling my name.

"Coop," he shouted. "Where are you, Coop?"

He must have been standing in front of Leamer's office. The sound was coming from that direction.

"Stay where you are," I yelled back. "Don't move. I'm almost there."

I didn't want Mike venturing out any farther into territory that might have been sabotaged by Troy Rasheed. I didn't want him to encounter that wounded animal, still armed with Mercer's gun.

I ran the rest of the distance as fast as I could. There was a black Bell helicopter dipping its nose toward the spot in the distance where Joe Galiano had let us off so many hours ago.

The instant I saw Mike Chapman jogging up to meet me, he opened his arms and I fell into his embrace. It took him a few moments-and a reassurance from me-to realize the blood on my shirt was not mine.