Dark Moon Walking (24 page)

“You want to find a place to beach the dinghy, I'll try and work this guy free.” Walker already had a solid grasp on the “wood shirt” that still clothed the body, and as Dan watched he ducked underwater, presumably to see what was holding it. Dan quickly turned the dinghy and took it back to the first landing place he could find, hauled the tarp and rope out, and dragged them back along the beach toward the gruesome scene.

By the time he got there, Walker had worked the body free of the rocks that were holding it and was guiding it in. Dan shucked his own jeans, put his shoes back on, and waded in to help, gasping as the cold knotted his muscles and puckered his skin.

“Jesus! How can you stand this? It's freezing!”

Walker smiled. “Hey, we Indians are tough. Not like you wimpy white guys.”

Dan snorted. “Yeah, right.” He knew banter helped to keep his mind off what they were doing, and he guessed it was the same for Walker. “We need to get him somewhere we can slide him out onto the tarp.”

They clambered carefully over the slippery rocks, gently easing their burden toward an area of sloping sandstone.

“Can you hold him for a couple of minutes?” Dan asked as they neared the edge. “I'll get the tarp and spread it out.”

The body was heavy. Robbie—if it was Robbie—was a big man and he was still fully clothed. The sodden flannel shirt, heavy jeans, and boots added to the weight, and the frigid water was rapidly draining Dan's energy, to the point where it took all his strength and determination to keep going. Several times he came close to quitting, but both the thought of Claire sitting by herself on that lonely beach and the sight of Walker's blue lips and clamped jaw made him keep going.

In the end, they had to pull the tarp into the water and slide it underneath the corpse. The muscles in Dan's legs were starting to cramp, and pain knifed down his calf. He lost his footing more than once and his ankle stung where he had grazed it against the rough edge of a rock. Across from him, Walker stumbled several times and Dan realized that he too was nearing the end of his endurance. As soon as the top edge of the plastic had been secured by tying it to a rock, he staggered out of the water and flung himself down on the ground, panting and shivering.

“You okay?” he asked when he had caught his breath enough to speak.

“Yeah,” Walker answered. “Better than that guy, anyway.”

They both lay there shivering for a few more minutes, and then the cold drove Dan into action. He tugged his jeans back on and went to collect the clothes Walker had left in the dinghy.

“Better get these on. You're starting to look whiter than me.” He handed the bundle to Walker, then went to finish securing the tarp and its macabre burden. Those thoughts of Claire, waiting just a few hundred yards away, were urging him to finish things up.

“I'll go get Claire.”

Walker nodded his agreement and Dan started back along the shore.

They had managed to drag the body completely out of the water and Dan had wrapped the tarp tightly around it. Now it lay trussed with only the head exposed. He had little doubt it was Claire's boss, Robbie: once they had rolled him over and seen the wild red beard, it seemed impossible for it to be anyone else. After all, how many men with red hair and a beard could there be in this remote area? What had been less obvious—and much more troubling—was the deep indentation in the back of his skull. It was hidden beneath the mass of thick, curly hair, but Dan had felt it when he positioned the head in order to make it easily visible for Claire to look at when she came over. He had no forensic training, and he supposed there was a chance the injury could have happened post-mortem, but the weather was good and the sea was calm. It was hard to see how anything could have hit hard enough to cause that kind of damage.

Claire was still sitting where they had left her, staring out over the water.

“Claire? You okay?” It was a stupid question, but he couldn't think of anything better.

She turned toward him, her face still damp with tears, and nodded without speaking.

“Do you think you can do this?”

He wondered how many more times he was going to have to ask this girl that same damned question. He had asked it when she was stuck on that bloody island, watching the black ship. He had asked it when he took her back to Spider Island and got her to walk to Shoal Bay, to the very place some guy had been waiting for her with a gun. And now here he was, asking it yet again in order to get her to look at the dead body of someone she had probably known and been friendly with. He felt like an asshole, but he knew it was something that had to be done, and she was the only one who could do it.

She still didn't speak, but he saw the slight rise of her shoulders and the pale, resigned smile as she stood up. He reached out his hand to steady her as she staggered slightly on the rocks and then moved it to her waist to support her. He could feel the tension in her body, her muscles stiff with the effort of holding her emotions in check.

Walker stood up as they approached, blocking her view of the corpse. As she got nearer, he stepped back to let her pass but stayed close. Dan moved up on her other side and reached forward to turn down the flap of tarp he had folded over the dead man's face. He heard the sudden intake of breath and turned to look at her face.

“Is it Robbie?” Dan asked quietly.

She nodded.

“You're sure?”

She nodded again and turned away.

Dan watched her stumble back across the rocks. Her shoulders were hunched, and her hands were clenched into fists. He looked at Walker. “We need to get her back to Annie. She can't stay here. Want me to wait here while you run her back in the dinghy?”

“No. You go. I'll wait.”

Dan was about to argue but thought better of it. He was getting by far the best of this deal. He nodded, caught up to Claire, gently took her arm, and led her over to the dinghy. As he pushed off, he heard Walker call out to him, “Hey, white guy. Don't get lost.” Even in these circumstances, Walker could make him smile.

Annie was sitting out on the aft deck. She stood and walked out to the top of the walkway as they approached, her eyes holding a question as they stared down at Dan. He gave her a brief nod and watched as she reached out to pull Claire toward her, enfolding the younger woman in a rough bear hug as she stepped onto the deck.

“You staying?” she asked Dan, her chin resting on Claire's head and her voice muffled.

“Can't. I have to go help Walker.”

“Go. I'll look after things here.”

“Thanks, Annie. We shouldn't be too long.” Dan had come up with an idea for how to secure the body. He would tow it to a piece of shoreline nearer to Annie's boat and bury it under rocks. That should protect it from animals, although he couldn't slow decomposition. It would also allow Tom to return to his cabin. “How's Tom doing?”

“Still moaning, but he's okay. I'll try and get some food into him in a while. Stupid old bastard.”

Dan smiled. Annie might pretend to be tough, but there was a softness there that was unmistakable and heartwarming. He turned to Claire and took her hands in his. “I'll be back as soon as I can,” he told her. He was rewarded with a wan smile.

It took longer than he had planned to find a place to bury Robbie. Either the shore was too steep or the rocks were too big. Finally he found a site that might work. It was above the high-tide line, on a sloping ledge of dark rock, and Dan climbed up onto it. He had to reach above his head to pry some rocks loose and then pass them one by one down to Walker, who arranged them carefully around and over the body. It was far from perfect, but it would have to do.

As he slid back down, Dan heard Walker begin to chant. The sound was eerie, almost hypnotic, and it grew until it seemed to fill the air and the water and even reach down into the rock itself. The rhythm was so ancient, so primal, so fundamental, that Dan felt his body start to rock and weave in unison.

As the last sound faded, the two men stood together on the edge of the land and looked out over the water. Words were inadequate. And unnecessary. A man had died. A spirit had been freed and sent forward on its journey. There was nothing else to say or do.

Silently, they made their way back down to the dinghy. Dan held it steady as Walker climbed in, then cast off the rope that tethered it before stepping in himself and pushing off. He put his hand on the controls, but instead of starting the motor, he let the boat drift out on the waves. Walker sat quietly, watching him.

“You still chewing on a problem?”

It was a statement more than a question and Dan nodded in acquiescence. “Yeah.”

“Think you can fix it?”

Dan shrugged. “Not really. These guys are pretty well organized. I can't get hold of anyone, and even if I could, they probably wouldn't listen to me. And I don't think they could get here quickly enough to do anything anyway, so I guess it doesn't really matter. And they look ready to move. They're not going to hang around once they've got those canisters organized. I figure by tomorrow, next day at the latest, the black ship and the crew boat will be gone.”

Walker nodded and inclined his head toward the shore. “What're you going to do about him?”

“Nothing I can do there either, except tell Mike or the coast guard about it—whoever I can reach first. They can take it from there.”

“You figure it was the same guys?”

“Yeah.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes, and Dan watched the water move around them as he struggled with the concept of being a bystander rather than a player.

“Be a bitch to just let them go.”

Dan's head snapped around as he heard the softly spoken words. They certainly weren't what he had expected to hear from Walker, although they echoed his own feelings perfectly.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice betraying his wariness.

Walker smiled. “Wanna stop them?”

“Stop them? Are you fucking crazy? We can't stop them—that's what's driving me nuts!”

“Yeah. I know. I've been watching it eating at your gut.”

“Yeah. Well. Guess I've got to learn how to deal with it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Fuck off!” Dan took a deep breath. He was letting both the situation and Walker get to him. “We've got to get back to Claire.”

“Yeah. Nice girl, that.” Walker's face was expressionless, but Dan heard the smile behind the words.

“Yes, Walker. She is. Now let's drop it, okay?” This was getting way too personal. He reached for the starter. “In fact, let's drop everything and get back to Annie's.”

“We can stop them, you know.”

Dan's hand froze in mid-air. Walker was serious.

“Yeah? And how are we going to do that?”

Walker outlined his idea as they sped back.

TWENTY