Gathering Lies. Meg O'Brien

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СКАЧАТЬ about to break into Grace’s diatribe when Amelia did that for me.

      “Timmy did her best,” she said defensively. “She couldn’t—”

      “Couldn’t what?”

      “Hush, Amelia,” Timmy said. “She’s right. Besides, she wouldn’t understand.”

      Amelia shot a contemptuous look at Grace and turned away.

      Grace shook her head. “You bet your sweet ass I wouldn’t understand. Sure, there are cans of food in the kitchen, but we can’t cook it, now that the line’s broken to the fuel tank. The stove is electric, and the generator’s useless without fuel. Besides that, whatever was in the fridge is spoiled by now. Or soon will be.”

      “Well, at least there are plenty of cans of food,” Dana said in a surprisingly irate voice. “We can damn well eat things cold! Besides, there’s plenty of oysters around here. They aren’t bad raw.”

      Grace gave a shudder. “And what do we do about water?” She held up a 12-ounce bottle of Perrier. “If these were all we could find last night, I doubt there are many more. Good God, Amelia, if Timmy had spent less on frills—”

      “I suppose you have all those things in your own home,” Amelia said angrily. “You’re prepared for anything, no matter what.”

      “You’re damned right, I am. It’s not like we haven’t had enough warnings in the past few years, even in New York. Not just about earthquakes, but blizzards, tornadoes, floods. And if you were any kind of friend to Timothea—which it seems you happen to be—or if you were a responsible person at all, you’d have made sure she stocked emergency supplies—”

      “Will you two please stop!” Jane cried. She stood and flung her blanket to the ground, doubling her fists. Tears ran down her face. “My children may be dead right now! Do you realize that? While you two are harping at each other, my kids could be dead!”

      “All right, that’s it!” I said, standing. “First of all, I’ve just about had it with you, Grace. Maybe you’re right, maybe Timmy could have prepared better. But it doesn’t help to stand around and rant at each other.”

      I turned to Jane and put both hands on her shoulders. “Look, I know this is awful for you. But, Jane, we have to focus now on finding a way to communicate with the mainland. The sooner we do that, the sooner we may be able to reach your husband and children. At the very least, a portable radio might give us some up-to-date news. We could find out how things are going down there.”

      Jane fell silent, and Dana asked, “What do you have in mind?”

      “I’ve been thinking about it all night. There are three other houses on the island. Two, as I remember, are summer cabins. Right, Timmy?”

      She nodded. “They’ve sold a couple of times over the years, but both have been vacant quite a while.”

      “And the Ford house?”

      “It’s still there, of course. The son owns it now, but he only comes out here in the summer.”

      “Luke, you mean?”

      She nodded again.

      So he’s still around. “Any chance he’d be there now?” I asked. “It’s almost summer.”

      “I’ve never known him to be here this early,” Timmy said. “And I’m pretty sure he would have let me know he was here, if he was.”

      “So unless someone just happens to be visiting those two cabins, we’re the only people on the island, right? Then, what we need to do is check out those cabins, and Luke’s house, and see if they are indeed vacant, and if they survived the quake. If so, they might have some things we can use till help arrives.”

      I turned to Timmy. “Two people should stay behind, just on the off chance a rescue party comes by. Do you mind? You and Amelia?”

      “Leave the two old ladies behind, is that it?” Amelia said spiritedly. “Not on your life. Leave Jane. I’m as strong as she is.”

      “I’m sure you are,” I said, though in truth I doubted it. It wasn’t Amelia’s age that was against her, as many women in their seventies were good hikers. But I’d seen her trembling when she thought no one was looking. It had been a difficult twelve hours, and Amelia needed rest, not the exertion of tramping through the woods. As for Timmy, she had suffered too much loss. To my eyes, she seemed close to breaking.

      “I also thought maybe you and Timmy could check out the grounds here,” I said. “See what kinds of vegetables are left in the gardens, like maybe some carrots still in the ground from last fall? Do you mind?”

      Amelia hesitated, but looked at Timmy, who seemed very frail, suddenly. “No,” she said, “of course not.”

      “Okay, then, let’s get going,” Dana said. “I’m more than ready.”

      We all looked at each other for signs of agreement. Kim, who hadn’t yet spoken, said, “Just one thing. Does anyone here have a gun?”

      Jane laughed uncertainly. “My goodness, no. Who on earth would have thought we’d ever need one here?”

      Dana shook her head, and Amelia raised her white brows and said, “That’s an odd thing to ask.”

      “Not if you’ve ever been in an earthquake,” Kim said. “I have.”

      “You mean in L.A.?”

      She nodded. “The Northridge. People went nuts.”

      “But that was entirely different,” I said. “L.A. is a big city. Here, there’s no one else on the island. Only us.”

      Kim gave me a weighted look, then flicked her eyes to Grace.

      We all followed her gaze.

      Grace flushed, then said, “Oh, for God’s sake! I may not be the most patient person in the world, but it’s not like I’m going to kill anyone.”

      No one said a word.

      Kim Stratton and I made our way along the shoreline to the east, while Dana, Jane and Grace headed west to check out the two cabins. Our plan was to meet at the Ford house, which was in the approximate middle of the island, on the northern shore. The more direct, cross-island path Luke and I had created all those years ago had grown over, and I hadn’t been able to find it from Thornberry. Our trek would take us a bit longer than if the more direct three-mile route had been available, but we thought that if we kept a steady pace, we could be there in less than four hours.

      The beach consisted of gray rock, not sand, and was lined with fir and cedar trees. At times we were forced to navigate huge logs that had washed up during storms, and in several places the shoreline came to a dead stop by boulders we had to climb to get where the beach began again.

      I was grateful I’d worn my hiking boots, jeans, and a warm sweater and coat to dinner the night before. A quick check of my cottage this morning had revealed most of my belongings were buried beneath debris. There hadn’t been time to see what could be salvaged—nor had I wanted to. My nerves were shot, and I felt exhausted СКАЧАТЬ