Turtle Island (40 page)

John Keller filmed Georgina as she ran across the field
waving, beckoning the helicopter to lower to allow her access. She
rolled on board the cramped floor space and before she could utter
a single word they were flying through the air, heading toward a
plume of thick black smoke.

Georgina noticed Norman Frusco's hand rest on Barbara's knee
and squeeze a comforting embrace. The look that passed between them
was brief but long enough for Georgina to pick up on.

‘That bastard, Andy. What the hell is he playing
at?’

Georgina managed to sit up on her haunches. Her feet rested
just under her bottom, while she held onto Leroy's leg for
stability. The feeling of unease and the motion was still playing
havoc with her senses. The copter lurched sending Georgina's hand
higher on to Leroy's thigh.

‘So, who called?’ Leroy asked trying to take his mind of the
physical contact between them.

‘…
Harley Fleisher.’ Her thumb and fingers gripped a little
tighter. Leroy didn't know if Georgina was trying to silently pass
a message to him or whether she was just trying to gain a better
purchase for balance. Georgina looked at her watch. The hands were
moving toward the six.

Jo-Lynn wanted to run. She wanted to barge past the monster
standing in front of her but even though he was wounded, he was
bigger, faster and more powerful.

‘Why…Why?’ She stared at him. She saw the face of evil and
eyes that were burning with hatred. A man no longer inhabited the
body that stood un-bowing in front of her. She saw the face but
what life there was inside was living in hell. He clawed at the
broken plastic embedded in his throat, his fingers grasping the
barely protruding fragments, unable to free them. He coughed and a
small spurt of blood trickled down his throat from the
wound.

‘It’s too late.’ He began. He pulled at his neck and studied
the blood around the tips for a moment before continuing. ‘You know
what’s so funny?’ He didn't wait for an answer. ‘It doesn’t matter
what happens from here on in. I have already had my justice. Ask
Rick why he let me be the first with Jordan?’

Jo-Lynn felt numbed by his statement, then sickened at the
full realisation of it. ‘Always loved children.’ He sniffed the
blood on his fingers and smiled. ‘Jordan was special. Firm, just
beginning to bloom.’ He breathed deeply in fond reminiscence. ‘So,
so fine.’ Without warning, his hand shot out, fist clenched and
made contact with Jo-Lynn’s jaw.All around her, the walls began to
close in and his words echoed in her head. Jo-Lynn's limbs began to
tingle then slowly go numb. They no longer wanted to support her
frame. She staggered backward two steps and bounced off her son,
who tried to steady her. The floor rushed to greet Jo-Lynn as her
body finally collapsed. He watched as her head cracked against the
flooring, jarring back painfully. A small trickle of blood ran down
the swollen and split skin on her forehead, gathering in a tiny
pool on the floor. As he bent down to lift Jo-Lynn to her feet, Ray
ran past, down the corridor, screaming at the top of his voice. He
was going to turn and give chase but what was the point; he knew
the boy could not escape. He lifted Jo-Lynn. The exertion opened
the wound on his neck slightly further. His breathing rasped as he
carried her, walking down the stairs back to the flood chamber.
Before finally blacking out, Jo-Lynn thought what could have caused
her husband to act with such total madness.

The whole island had stopped breathing, momentarily holding
its breath. The only thing that moved was the relentless deluge of
rain and the frantic efforts of the police to resolve the case
before it was too late, everything else stood still, locked in a
time capsule of observation. Islanders and mainlanders alike were
glued to their television sets barely daring to blink, as rival TV
networks fought for the best coverage and the latest scoops on
events. The skies above buzzed with helicopters, small aircraft and
every conceivable form of electronic media and
communication.

She was placed in a chair and bound by her hands and feet.
Water swam around her thighs, brown, putrid smelling water. The
first thing Jo-Lynn saw when she woke was the video camera standing
on a tripod some six or seven feet in front of her. The tripod was
opened to its fullest extension and the camera was near the ceiling
pointing down at her. There was a red light blinking on the side of
the camera, divulging its raison d'être. To the left was a bright
halogen lamp, aimed directly on her, cables had been duck taped to
the ceiling, some of them drooping precariously as though arranged
in haste.

Rick Montoya’s voice came from behind a glaring light trained
on her. ‘I thought of many ways in which to tell you. It wasn’t
supposed to end like this. I never meant to hurt Jordan…never. I’d
do anything to have her back.’

Jo-Lynn's eyes began to adapt to the harsh light aimed at her.
She could see Rick sitting in front of her, his hands behind his
back.

Rick lifted his head and stared into Jo-Lynn’s eyes. Rick’s
face was a mass of swelling and bruises; dried blood was encrusted
around his mouth in a stream of red that had ceased flowing hours
before. His teeth and gum were exposed in a horrific
grimace.

‘What are you saying?’ Jo-Lynn pleaded to her husband for an
explanation.

‘I couldn’t tell you. I knew you would never understand.’ The
silhouetted figure moved the light, turning it to expose his
mutilated features. Rick began to sob. Gargled words belched out of
his mouth in an incomprehensible babble.

The water around Jo-Lynn’s legs suddenly felt very cold as
hope drained from her body.

Movement from behind her husband caught Jo-Lynn’s eye. There
was someone else in the room. A second man. He stepped out of the
shadows. ‘You see, Rick and I had a nice little cottage industry
going. Not that it was just about the money. Oh no, the money was a
fringe benefit but the real excitement, the real excitement…’ He
repeated. ‘came from the endless stream of delicacies that came our
way . Jordan she was so fine.’ He seemed lost for a moment in
melancholy. ‘Then your husband got an attack of moral
righteousness. A very bad thing. This world has no place for
morals.’ He smiled, seemingly genuinely enjoying the
moment.

As he moved forward, Jo-Lynn noticed the hammer in his hand.
She whispered, almost cried. ‘Who are you?’

He waded through the water, stopping in front of Jo-Lynn and
bent down until his face was parallel with hers. Jo-Lynn could
still see the plastic spoon embedded in his throat, blood eased
around it, dribbling down his neck.

‘How remiss of me, do you want to introduce me Rick, or shall
I introduce myself.’ He placed the hammer by his feet, his hands
moved up her thighs, resting at her hips. Jo-Lynn did not think it
possible to feel colder but his touch turned her to ice.

‘Better I do it myself, as Rick is having a little trouble
speaking clearly. Prentice Fortune, at your pleasure.’

Water rained down on the fire, from both the sky and the fire
departments hoses, but neither seemed to be having an effect on the
inferno blazing thirty feet in front of John Keller’s lens. Barbara
Dace stood alongside some of the crew of the TV station. The
shocked silence between them shattered by the occasional small
explosion from inside the burning building as gas canisters and
pressurised equipment gave way to the fearsome heat.

Norman Frusco laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, Barbara
reached up and held on tightly to his hand, any attempt to hide
their relationship dismissed, as she watched a lifetime of work and
history ascend to the inferno.

Georgina grabbed hold of Leroy during the commotion and
dragged him to the rear of the helicopter. The rotors now subdued.
He could see from the strung out look in her eyes that Georgina was
close to breaking point.

‘What's up?’

Georgina laughed a short snorting laugh. ‘What's up?’ The
question deserved an answer that could take her days to work out
let alone begin to tell. ‘I…’ She began but stopped. Her eyes bore
deep in to Leroy's, searching for part of the answer before
deciding whether she could continue. ‘I need a friend out
here…’

Leroy smiled.

‘Someone I can trust.’ She held his gaze until it passed the
point of discomfort or embarrassment for both of them. ‘I…’ She
paused again. ‘I know certain things, things that...that I find
difficult to believe in. But none the less seem to be true. Things
that if they are true are going to blow this tiny little island
apart.’

‘More than this.’ Leroy gestured to the burning building and
the chaos surrounding them. Georgina flinched as a tiny explosion,
a gas canister surrendered to the heat.

‘This is all part of the game. The distraction to keep us from
getting too close, from knowing the answers.’ Georgina looked at
the burning building and the firemen trying to salvage the modern
complex. ‘Did you know that as part of the design of newer
buildings, fire doors and the layout of corridors and rooms are to
prevent the rapid spread of flames?’

Leroy looked puzzled, almost insulted. ‘Of course.’

‘There are three separate fires burning here.’ Georgina
pointed to flames pouring out of a broken window on the third floor
of the complex and then to another fire burning from the rear of
the ground floor. ‘Plus the fire burning in the video editing suite
where this was supposed to have started in the
basement.’

Leroy shrugged. ‘So…It's not impossible. The fire could be
spreading through open doors, the air-con system, windows…I don't
know.’ He tried to explain.

‘The fires are isolated, too far apart. From a distance it
looks as though the whole building is an inferno.’ Georgina began
to walk away from the building. Leroy chased after her.

‘Hey, wait a minute!’ He ran to her and continued walking by
her side. ‘So?’

‘So, I was brought here because I couldn't solve the
mystery…or because there was a very high probability that I
wouldn't? Jerk me around long enough, tantalise and tease me with
enough, but not too much information, nothing incriminating and
hope that by the time I have it all figured out it will be too
late.’ She reached the helicopter.

‘I really don't know what you are talking about.’ Leroy
said.

‘The time, Leroy, the time.’ Georgina stressed. She took hold
of his left arm and pushed the sleeve of his coat back up his arm,
exposing his watch. ‘Fake Rolex, class Leroy.’ Georgina studied the
face and dials. One hour left. She climbed on board and tapped on
the back of the pilot's helmet. Small skull and crossbones were
painted on the helmet with an inscription, Fly the Friendly Skies
in gothic calligraphy.

The pilot turned. ‘What's up?’

Georgina buckled herself in. ‘We are.’

The pilot handed a sick bag over his shoulder, which Georgina
accepted without comment.

Leroy scrambled on board as the helicopter started to rise
from the ground. Georgina leaned forward and helped pull him in.
Leroy sat on the floor catching his breath. Georgina leaned forward
and shouted to the pilot above the noise of the rotors.

‘GET ME AS CLOSE AS YOU CAN TO 14162 HARPENDERS
GROVE.’

Leroy recognised Narla Fleisher’s address. As they pulled
away, Georgina saw her father and Captain Frusco running, waving.
They were trying to beckon down the helicopter.

‘Keep going.’ Georgina shouted.

The engine roared and the helicopter swooped away leaving
Captain Frusco, Agent Wynan O’Neil, Barbara Dace and John Keller
looking toward the sky, and the rain that continued to pour down
from it onto their frustrated faces.

‘Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. You know the beautiful thing
about this, is that all along I have been playing them at their
game and I have won.’ Prentice moved. He became a silhouetted
figure behind the harsh glare of white light once more.

The cold, stinking pool of stagnant water now lay just beneath
Jo-Lynn’s breasts. The room was beginning to fill from the flood
chambers.

She noticed the small red light on the camera indicating that
he was recording the event. The man in front of her was a perfect
stranger; the man bound to the chair immediately to her left was no
longer her husband and even more so a stranger now. Jo-Lynn
blinked; against the light, the blinding white halogen light placed
directly ahead of her. Jo-Lynn began to doubt her sanity. The
feeling of sheer blinding terror began to overwhelm her and she
began to shake violently.

Fortune bent down and retrieved the hammer. ‘Less than an
hour, but hey, fuck it, you know…’ He looked Jo-Lynn deep in the
eyes. ‘I can’t be bothered to wait.’ He stepped back and lifted the
hammer.

‘For god’s sake.’ Rick cried out but no one
understood.

Prentice turned and glanced the hammer across Rick Montoya’s
skull. Montoya slumped forward in his seat, restrained by the duck
tape securing his body to the seat.

‘Now that was fun.’

‘Why are you doing this?’ Jo-Lynn screamed.