The Left Series (Book 6): Left On An Island (21 page)

“Go on,” I said, eager to hear the end of the story.

“The soldiers beat and abused the woman and she spoke in a tongue they did not understand. When one of the French sailors was revived, he saw what the soldiers were doing to the woman. He also spoke Spanish and warned them the woman was a voodoo priestess and wielded great power. The Spanish mocked the priestess and decided to burn her at the stake within the grounds of the castle. As the Mambo burned, she placed a curse on the island and particularly the Spanish castle. The French sailor, who later escaped the island, said the priestess’s curse would fall on all those who inhabited the castle. They would all die and the people who lived on the island would suffer for eternity. Within one year, the Spanish soldiers were all killed except for two of them, in a battle with the French up on the hilltops. The two remaining Spanish soldiers were forced to bury the bodies and then executed themselves. Nobody has successfully taken control of the castle for a long period of time since those times.” Lowie leaned back away from the bar counter. “The Spanish called the island ‘
Isla De Las Almas Perdidas
’ before the Dutch renamed it Saint Miep.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

Lowie smiled. “The Island Of Lost Souls.”

“You’re not listening to that load of old bollocks are you?” Tony mocked, striding back towards the bar. “We’ve heard that cobblers about the curse on the island so many times.” He slumped back on his stool. “You ought to knock that old tale on the head, Lowie, mate. I’m sick of hearing about it. It’s starting to do me nut in, son.” Tony dabbed his forefinger at his temple.

Lowie’s expression turned to one of frustration. “Just telling them a story, Tony.” He shrugged. “Who is to say it isn’t true?”

“What, voodoo queens and curses and dead soldiers? Do me a favor.” Tony sighed and shook his head.

“Well, here’s to dead people, whoever they are,” Smith said, raising his glass.

“Yeah, I have to admit, it’s an interesting story,” I chipped in.

“Let’s just hope the curse is on our side,” Smith said. He turned his attention back to Tony. “Thought any more on my little proposition? Because if your answer is still a no, we got ourselves a problem.”

“Oh, and what problem would that be then, Smudger?” Tony’s body language changed and he looked aggressive as well as defensive.

Smith obviously picked up on the near hostile attitude. “Listen, Tony. As I said, we have to bring down those guys inside the castle or our friends onboard the ship will end up going through a long and drawn out death. They’ll eventually starve when all the supplies run out, while we sit here doing exactly the same. We have to end it, Tony. One way or another.”

Tony slouched in his stool. “Listen, fellahs, why don’t you let me think about it for a mo. Go grab yourselves a cold shower and a change of clothes.” He nodded at Smith. “You look like you need one, Smudger, old son. There are all sizes on the hangers through there.” He pointed towards the doorway to the right of the bar. “Freek, show them the way to the changing rooms will you?”

Freek nodded then gestured towards the doorway. “This way, gentlemen.”

Smith moved first. I slipped off the stool but felt a sharp pain in my ankle again.

“Got a first aid kit around here, Freek?” I asked.

Freek nodded. “I am a qualified first aider. I will have a look at your bad leg.”

I hobbled bare footed after Freek and Smith, leaving Tony alone with his thoughts. He lit another cigarette with a far away expression on his face, as though he was mulling over Smith’s request.

Freek opened the black door and showed us the way into a brightly lit, white tiled bathroom with a wide shower and toilet cubicles and a big bath tub in the center. Set off to the right, a small walkway led to a row of closed doors. I nosed around the corner and saw a burgundy colored carpet running the length of the hallway in front of at least a dozen doors.

“The bed chambers are through there,” Freek said from behind me, giving me a start. “And the closet to get some fresh clothes is the first door on the left.” Freek pointed at the door in case I couldn’t tell my right from left. “I’ll get you some towels.” He walked to the closet and disappeared inside for a few seconds, emerging with two big white towels. He handed us a towel each and pointed to the showers before exiting the bathroom back to the cellar bar.

Smith threw off what was left of his silky green bathrobe and entered one of the shower cubicles. I peeled off my sweaty garments and tossed them onto the tiled floor in a dirty, sodden heap. I entered the cubicle next to Smith’s and saw soap and a bottle of shower gel on a shelf below the power switch. I hit the button and felt the full pelt of clean, slightly warm water hit my skin. I used the shower gel that gave off a strong lemon aroma.

“Hey, Smith?” I called out above the sound of running water.

“What?”

“You think we can trust these guys?” I waited a few seconds for a reply.

“Well, not totally but right now, they’re all we’ve got.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Smith and I finished up in the shower and made our way to the closet to grab some clean clothes. We opened the door and were surprised to find the closet was more of a large laundry room with a couple of washer dryers standing on the far side of the white tiled area. A couple of folded ironing boards and steam irons hung on hooks on the wall to the left of the washing machines. On each side of the room, several clothing racks and shelves contained a combination of rows of hanging suits, still with cellophane covers over them and casual wear, pressed and folded in neat piles on the shelving. Boxes of unworn shoes and sneaker type footwear were stacked beneath the clothing racks.

Business suits weren’t a practical option in our situation and nor were shorts or beach wear to be honest. Smith decided on a pair of fawn colored cargo pants, a black t-shirt and some black, military style work boots. I picked out an olive green t-shirt, some stone colored cargo pants and a pair of black, ankle high sneakers, although I didn’t yet put on the footwear. I wanted Freek to take a look at my damaged ankle first. The flesh had puffed up around my ankle bone and I hoped I hadn’t suffered a break of any kind.

Smith motioned to the doorway. “You ready?”

I nodded, feeling a little more sober after showering.

I followed Smith back to the bar, holding the pair of sneakers in my hand. We walked into a full blown row, with Tony, Lowie and Freek standing each side of the bar counter and all yelling at one another. The other two band members, Shaun and Dan both stood each side of Tony, attempting to calm him down.

Smith turned to me. “What have we gotten ourselves into?” he said quietly.

We moved closer and I couldn’t make out much sense of the words and insults the Dutchmen and the Londoner were hurling at each other. Although they had plenty of survival essentials and a fairly secure location, these guys seemed far from happy with their surroundings. They were probably sick of the sight of each other after spending so much time living in the underground cellar.

“Hey, hey, easy guys,” Smith appealed above the noise. He patted the air downwards in a motion to try and ease the tension.

The hollering briefly ceased.

“That man is a coward,” Lowie spat, jabbing his forefinger a few inches from Tony’s face. “He is the only yellow bastard who refuses to fight.”

“Fuck you,” Tony responded. He balled his fist and drew back his arm as if to throw a punch.

The guy from Manchester, Shaun Swann lurched forward and grabbed Tony’s arm before he could deliver the blow.

“This is going to get ugly,” Smith said to me. He strode forward towards the bar counter and slammed his hand down on the chrome handgun laying on top of the bar counter, a fraction of a second before Lowie reached for it.

Smith unloaded the magazine from the firearm and ejected the round already in the chamber.

“Okay, you guys need to cool it,” he shouted.

The yelling died down but developed into a glaring contest between Tony and Lowie. Tony shrugged off Shaun’s grip on his arm.

“You think you can take a look at my ankle now, Freek?” I asked, trying to change tact and ease the pressure in the room. God, where was Wingate when you needed a medic?

“Of course,” Freek muttered, not taking his eyes off Tony. His glare broke away and he reached beneath the counter, lifting out a green box with the words ‘
First Aid Kit
’ printed in white lettering across the top.

Freek approached and ushered me to a chair beside a smoked glass table, a few feet away from the bar counter. I sat down and straightened my left leg. Freek crouched and began to squeeze and probe my ankle. I winced as the pain kicked in but knew he was checking for any broken bones.

I glanced downward and saw the handgrip of Freek’s firearm sticking out from the back of his waistband. None of the others seemed duly concerned that Smith now had control of one of their handguns, unloaded though it was. I looked across the room to the sofa in front of the projector screen and saw the spear gun still on the floor at the side of the three seater. They hadn’t taken too much interest in the weapon since we’d been in the cellar.

“Are we all cool now?” Smith demanded.

Lowie broke his stare and nodded at Smith, although his face remained sullen. Tony snorted in defiance and broke away from the group, turning to face the wall opposite. Smith waited a few seconds before he spoke again.

“Okay, listen up. Me and Wilde Man want to thank you for taking us in and showing us some hospitality. But we
have
to try and neutralize the threat posed by those militia guys or whatever they are up there in the castle. There are almost two hundred people onboard that ship that’s stuck out at sea and they’re counting on us to get them safely ashore.”

Freek started to wrap a bandage around my ankle but all the other guys in the room looked at Smith.

“Now, we are grateful for your cooperation and we will take up the offer of loaning a few of your firearms. If it’s just the two of us taking on those guys, then so be it but we’d appreciate if any of you got down for the ride alongside us. None of you have to come and I’m not going to judge any of you who don’t want to. It’s not going to be a tea party out there and I’m sure we’ll all have to face our fair share of shit and bullets flying our way. Of course, it goes without saying if we get caught and the mission fails, then we won’t mention this place down here and we wouldn’t expect you to feed us all, if in fact we get the ship’s crew ashore. So you all do what you think is right, gentlemen.”

Silence enveloped the cellar and nobody moved from where they stood, they simply stared at Smith and then warily at each other. I looked down pretending to watch Freek finish up applying the bandage but in reality I was hiding a smirk. Smith seemed to think he’d turned into General Patton or Paul Revere or JFK.

“Nothing broken in there, just a sprain.” Freek tapped the bandage with his finger. “That feel okay?”

I moved my foot but the ankle stayed still, held in place by the thick strapping. “U-huh, feels good,” I said.

“All right, count me in, Smudger,” Shaun Swann said in his Manchester accent. “I’m up for a bit of a shoot out.”

“Don’t be a wanker, Swanny,” Tony protested. “You don’t know one end of a shooter from the other.”

Shaun Swann turned to glare at his counterpart. “Fuck off, Tony. We had our fair share of gun slinging up in Manchester. Not like you southern softies with your CCTV and coppers all over the place to protect you.”

Tony grunted in exasperation, placed his hands on his hips and looked at the ceiling.

“Yeah, like, I’m all over it, dude,” Dan Saint cheered. “Let’s go shoot some bad guys, man.”

Tony glared at Dan Saint. “This ‘aint no video game, Dan. You’re going to get yourself killed going up to that castle.”

Dan shrugged. “Like, so what the hell, man? Staying in this place just turns from today to tomorrow and tomorrow becomes today and yesterday is the like the same as any other day and before you know it, next week is next year, man. It really sucks.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Do you even know what planet you’re on, you muppet?”

Dan slowly and weirdly waved his head from side to side. “Yeah, like, we’re on planet zombie, dude and it ‘aint cool no more.”

“Okay, whatever,
dude
,” Smith interrupted. “That’s four of you on our team, right?”

Freek and Lowie both nodded.

“Fucking A, man,” Dan yelled, nodding his head vigorously.

“Power to the people,” Shaun Swann chanted, pumping his fist in the air.