out!” he shouted as he turned the corner and started running toward the woods. “He’s got a gun!”
Another bright flash lit up the side of the dining hall the instant a third shot rang out. The bullet clipped a tree trunk close to Jeff’s head, kicking up splinters of bark that sprayed his face but didn’t do any serious damage. He guessed—he hoped Ben couldn’t see him in the darkness. That was his only chance.
Cowering behind one of the pine trees and panting to catch his breath, Jeff looked at the glowing windows of the dining hall. Hopefully Mike and Tyler realized some serious shit was going down and would take cover … or else come out to help him.
“Be careful, you guys!” Jeff yelled, cupping his hands to his mouth. “He’s got a gun and wants to kill us!”
Through the dining hall windows, he saw a flurry of motion. Shadows cast by the firelight shifted crazily across the windows like a dark kaleidoscope. Jeff had no idea if Ben had gone into the building or had jumped off the porch and was coming after him.
Who does he want to finish off first? he wondered as he turned and headed off into the darkness.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Wide Game
Jeff knew now for certain that Ben had figured out he had found Evan in the infirmary.
He would have to come for him first.
He also knew that, with the ground as wet as it was, he would leave tracks any idiot with a flashlight could follow. And Ben, while he might be crazy, certainly was no idiot.
His best chance of survival, he decided, was to strike off into the woods, avoiding the muddy paths as much as possible. He had turned his back on the dining hall and was entering the woods when three shots rang out the night. They were muffled in the darkness, but he turned around in time to see the last of the muzzle flashes as it lit up the inside of the dining hall.
“Sweet Mother of God,” he whispered, realizing Ben must have gone back into the dining hall and finished off both Mike and Tyler before coming after him.
It made sense.
They were isolated on the island with no way off unless someone found a boat or was desperate enough to swim the mile or so back to the mainland. It would be difficult if not impossible to swim that far in water that had to be close to freezing this time of year.
As for the boat, Jeff held little hope he could get to it and use it. Ben must have done something to kill the engine so they’d think they were stranded here. Jeff held out a slim hope Ben hadn’t permanently destroyed the engine. How else would he get off the island once he had done what he set out to do?
Ben had to keep his options open.
If the boat really was useless, then he had to have another boat or some way of getting off the island. Jeff had to find out what that was and use it to his advantage.
But right now, Ben was hunting for him. He had to survive.
Not being armed, Jeff would have to elude Ben and try to get off the island. Now that Ben had killed both Mike and Tyler, he could take his sweet time and stalk him at his leisure.
Crouching in the darkness, Jeff surveyed the dining hall for any signs of activity. He tried not to visualize what must have happened there. Mike and Tyler, no doubt have been confused by the sounds of gunfire outside, probably didn’t have time to react before Ben came in and shot them both. There was a slim chance on or both of them had escaped, but that didn’t seem likely. Ben probably walked in there as cool and calm as could be, took aim, and shot them both in cold blood.
Bleak despair filled Jeff.
He shivered as cold night air misted his face and ran in trickling streams down the inside of his raincoat. He still had his flashlight, but he had dropped the birch stick on the beach when he had helped pick up Fred.
“Come on. Pull it together. Slow down and think.”
He tried hard to focus, but the situation seemed hopeless.
Jeff believed now that Evan had been telling the truth. Ben had tied him up and left him out in the infirmary, but Evan wasn’t of any use to Ben any more. Ben would be gunning for him, too.