Riptide

Chapter 50

Keeping as much as possible to the shelter of the rocks, Bonterre hiked inland from Base Camp to the narrow marked trail that mounted the rise of the island. She began ascending stealthily, pausing every few moments to listen. Away from the lights of the camp it was dark, so dark that at times she had to feel for the lines of yellow tape, broken and fluttering wildly in the gale. The muddy trail rose, then dipped again, following the contour of the island. She was soaked to the skin, rain running in thin rivulets from her chin, elbows, and hands.

The path climbed once again and she topped a rise. The skeletal structure of Orthanc lay several hundred yards ahead, a trio of lights winking atop its superstructure, the windows brilliant squares of light etched against the night. The ATV was there, its bulbous tires slick with rain. Two large, empty metal containers were in tow. Below the tower, the mouth of the Pit was dark. But a ghostly light shimmered up from below, as if from a great depth. She could hear the clank of machinery, the rumble of the air pumps, even over the howl of the storm.

Through the glass windows of Orthanc, she could make out a dark shape moving slowly.

She crept forward, keeping low, using the tall grass as cover. A hundred feet out she stopped again, hiding behind a clump of tea roses. Here the view was much better. The figure had its back to her, and she waited. As it moved into the light she saw the broad shoulders and long, dirty-blond hair of Rankin, the geologist. He appeared to be alone.

She hesitated, sheltering the Radmeter from the rain as best she could. It was possible that Rankin might know how to use it, or at least have a better idea. But that would mean taking him into her confidence.

Streeter had deliberately tried to kill them. Why? True, he'd hated Hatch from the beginning. But Bonterre couldn't believe that was enough provocation. Streeter didn't seem the type to act rashly.

Then again, Hatch was trying to shut down the dig.

Were others in on it?

Somehow, she could not imagine the open, hearty Rankin being party to first-degree murder. As for Neidelman . . . she couldn't allow her thoughts to turn that way.

There was a searing bolt of lightning overhead, and she shrank away from the thunderclap that followed. From the direction of Base Camp, there was a sharp crackle as the last generator failed. The lights atop Orthanc blinked out for a moment, and then the control tower was bathed in an orange glow as the emergency batteries came on.

Bonterre clutched the Radmeter closer. She could wait no longer. Right or wrong, she had to make a choice.