PREDATOR ISLAND (Sea Lab Book 2)

CHAPTER 22

As the man stood on the shore with the old map in his hand, their day on the island and their adventure in the jungle grew even more interesting. Sarah fell behind everyone as they waded through the water in the shallow end of the pool. Jake, Tony, and Rachel plodded a few steps ahead of her, their focus on the unfolding drama as Dylan and Savannah splashed toward the shore, high-stepping it until they made it to the bank. For a disbelieving second, Sarah thought one of the two journalists was going to plow over the older man and rip the map from his grasp. Savannah would have been an unlikely candidate in her white swimsuit but the young woman had a feistiness about her that just might be up to the task.

In his plaid boxers, Dylan reached the man first. "Hey...hand over the map you old fool and step away from our stuff."

The man remained calm, sizing up the threat Dylan presented. His gray-blue eyes refused to blink and his stance didn't waver. His clever eyes turned icy and hard.

"Hello...man. Did you hear what I said?"

He pursed his lips and tilted his chin. "I heard you, mate, but is that any way to treat someone who's been living here a wee bit longer than the likes of you and your friends?"

"Come again?"

"You and your mates just pushed ashore today, did you not?"

"Wait just a second." Savannah hurried over and slid on her pants, t-shirt and flannel shirt. She didn't seem to care that her clothes were soaking up the water from her body like a wick. Her dark hair dripped as she marched over to the man and held out her hand for the map. "It's one thing to claim seniority on the island, but something else to snoop through our things and put your dirty paws on a valuable historical document."

The man sighed. "First off, I stumbled across your trousers and the rest of your garments. For all I knew, you people had met the same fate as the park rangers." He waved a hand over his wardrobe. "As you can see, my khakis have seen better days."

"Point made," Dylan said as Sarah and everyone else made it to shore. "But that doesn't give you the right to go through our things."

"I assumed you might be dead. I didn't give it a second thought."

Savannah cleared her throat. "You're still holding the map."

The man grimaced and handed it over.

Savannah swiped the old map and rolled it up with the store bought version. She acted like she wanted to tucked it inside her flannel shirt but her clothes were wet. So she held it by her side as she stared holes in the older man. Before Dylan spoke, Sarah had already pegged the man's identity, at least generally speaking.

Dylan glowered. "You're the guy who doused himself in gasoline."

"You've been to the ranger station at Chatham Bay?"

Sarah walked over and said, "What about the second station? Were there any survivors?"

"Afraid not," the man replied as if it were a mundane subject to discuss. "That's where I came from, scavenging for supplies. In the last two months, I've ate up all the food storage. And authorities must not be coming back, because you're the first people I've seen since the attacks that night."

"So, you were there when the slaughter took place...at the first ranger station?" Jake asked.

"I was indeed. But the way I took it, the creature attacked the station on the western shore first...the one you keep referring to as the second station. Then it came for us. A horrible beast. Dreadful."

"You got a name?" Tony asked. "Or will dude suffice?"

"My name is Dr. Hugh Graham. I'm a wildlife biologist by trade and a nature lover at heart."

"What was your assignment here?" Sarah said.

Dr. Graham slid a hand inside his vest and paused....

Jake tensed beside Sarah. She sensed his uneasiness by the way the vein popped out on his neck.

Graham removed a metal canteen and unscrewed the cap. He took a sip and returned it to the pocket under his vest. As he waited, Sarah and the others dressed and booted up.

"Too bad for me," Graham said. "Looks like all of your clothes are spoken for. As you can see, my safari khakis, well...anyway. So, what were you and your friends doing behind the waterfall?" He directed the question to Sarah.

"Going for a swim," she replied. "It's a beautiful spot."

"Did it have anything to do with the map?" He paused for a moment but then carried on. "I'm aware of the history of this island. You wouldn't happen to be looking for Captain Bennett Graham's loot, would you?"

Dylan stepped up. "What would make you think a thing like that?"

"Oh, nothing...besides his personal autograph on the bottom of the page."

"You're mistaken," Savannah said. "It's a cheap imitation."

"But you said it was a historical document of great value. Now, now, which is it?"

"None of your business."

Dr. Graham sat on a rock and retrieved a can of sardines from inside his vest. With a knife from a sheath on his waist, he opened the can, stabbed out a raw fish and bit it in half. Swallowed it.

"After spending the night in the jungle, on the run for my life—I might add—I found the dismembered bodies at station number two. So, I didn't actually see what killed them." He bit down on the remaining half of the sardine and chewed while he talked. "However, I was present, front and center at the Chatham Bay massacre, at station number one."

"Your point?" Dylan said. "This entire conversation seems like a big waste of time."

"My angle is that you swell ole chaps, and ladies, are looking for treasure."

"And?"

"I've survived for two months on this godforsaken island. I was an eye witness to the killings at station one. I've seen the creature."

"You have?" Rachel said. "What did it look like?"

"In the shadows...in the dark...I've seen it's eyes. Demon yellow."

Beside Tony, Rachel seemed locked on his words. She swallowed.

"But you've evaded it for the last two months," Jake said. "How?"

"That, my dear mate, I will tell you...if you take me along for your treasure hunt...and deal me a place at the table. An equal share. Fair and square."