The Island

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VICTOR COUDRIER WALKED briskly down the dark beach. Sweat covered his upper body, causing his T-shirt to cling to his torso. He always perspired when he was nervous, and tonight he was as nervous as he’d ever been.

Hearing voices ahead, he came to a stop. Two silhouettes walked toward him, and his pulse quickened in response. As they drew near, he saw it was a man and a woman holding hands and whispering to one another. Two lovers. Victor breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t the police. Pairs of officers patrolled the area after dark and wouldn’t have been happy to find a teen wandering around on his own.

As he set off again, Victor glanced at the ocean on his right. He had been so jittery that he hadn’t truly noticed it until now. As he watched, a tiny wave hit the shore and washed silently over the sand. Like most Caribbean bays, the water’s surface was as smooth as glass. The perfect conditions for what he and Antoine had planned.

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