Color Him Dead (26 page)

He froze in horror as Ian pulled a penknife from his pocket. “No!”

Then the line was severed, and the end which held Edith sank beneath the surface. Drew swam with all his strength toward the spot where she’d gone down. Just before he dived, he heard Ian shout:

“Fool! Did you think I’d believe you?”

Drew was beneath the surface when he heard the
chug-chug-chug
of the gun, then the
chuff! chuff! chuff!
of bullets slicing into the water over his head. They made curving streaks of bubbles ahead of him. He could see Edith below, a dim white shape turning over and over, drifting down into a deep purple valley. He swam down until his eyes pressed against their sockets and his chest seemed about to burst. Still she sank, deeper and deeper. He wanted to join her in that cool valley, but drowning was impossible for him. Reluctantly he felt himself rising.

But Edith was rising too. His heart was about to explode when he reached her and seized her hair. Her hands clawed his wrists as he dragged her out of the darkness toward the light. His shoulder bumped something; he saw that it was a fishtrap of woven bamboo strips. He followed the rope to the top and surfaced behind the float, gasping, trying to be silent, thanking God that some unknown fisherman had chosen a truly monstrous float, a two-yard length of bamboo three inches in diameter. Drifted sea weed had become tangled in the rope. He draped it over his head and peered over the float.

The launch was a hundred yards away, its engine idling as it drifted swiftly in the current. Ian and two of his men were peering over the edge into the water. Drew watched the gap widen between them and realized that he and Edith had escaped the grip of the current.

Beside him Edith coughed and sputtered. “Drew … what—”

“Shh. They could still hear us.”

She raised her head over the float, then dropped back, her face pale. At that moment the launch roared away, bearing around the west end of the island, toward the capital. Drew disconnected the float from the trap and hooked his arms over the bamboo. He started kicking toward Whale Rock, and after a moment Edith began helping. As they moved, Drew told her about the encounter with Ian.

“Tonight,” he added, “the current will change and we’ll swim to the mainland. We can hole up in the hills until it’s safe to move to another island.”

“What about Ian?”

He looked at her. “What about him?”

“Don’t you want to kill him, after all he’s done?”

Drew thought of Barrington living on like a poisonous cancer, infecting others with his acid hates and prejudices. It had taken a man like that, Drew decided, to make him realize that Edith had hardly scratched the surface of evil.

“Let him find his own punishment,” said Drew. “He’s given us the kind of chance some people beg for. Drew Simmons and Edith Barrington are dead. Officially witnessed by at least three people. I’ve wasted a lot of years on revenge, and I’m ready to try something different. As far as I’m concerned, Edith and Drew stay dead.”

She sighed. “I was rather fond of old Drew, but … you’re the boss."

THE END

of an Original Gold Medal Novel by

Charles Runyon