Susan was breathing through snot and tears and she knew it sounded like crying. But she was not afraid. She was furious. She had fired a gun once at a range. She knew how to line up the sights. She knew to brace herself for recoil. Archie was dying and Gretchen had done it. Gretchen hadn’t fired the gun, but she’d brought them both to that island. Susan was certain that Gretchen had orchestrated this whole thing somehow.

Gretchen arched an eyebrow. She didn’t look scared or surprised or even mildly inconvenienced. It made Susan loathe her even more.

“You’re not going to shoot me, pigeon,” Gretchen said with a sigh. “I just saved your life.”

Susan pulled the trigger. She braced herself but there was no recoil. No bang. Just a small hollow click. Gretchen didn’t even blink. A sob was stuck in Susan’s throat. She kept the gun aimed at Gretchen, but now her hands were shaking with frustration, making it even harder to steady the weapon.

“There were only two bullets,” Gretchen said.

Susan squeezed the trigger again, and again, willing it to fire, but each time it just clicked uselessly. Gretchen crossed in front of Susan and knelt next to Archie. Susan kept the gun trained at her head, because even an empty gun was better than no gun at all. Gretchen placed two fingers on Archie’s throat, and Susan squeezed the trigger again. This time she didn’t hear the click. There was a noise coming from somewhere, a distant grinding hum that echoed off the concrete walls. It sounded like a dental drill. Or power tools. Susan inhaled quickly. That’s what it was. The cops were trying to get to them through the locked tunnel door.

Gretchen must have heard the sound, too, but her face didn’t register it. She was concentrating on Archie. She withdrew her fingers from his neck and lifted up one of Archie’s eyelids. He didn’t react. His eyes remained fixed and unfocused. His face was splotchy with varying shades of ash.

Susan’s eyes burned. Help was so close. It couldn’t be too late. She could barely bring herself to speak. “Is he alive?” she asked.

Gretchen didn’t answer. She turned and seemed to scrutinize Susan. Even in this situation, Susan found herself fascinated by her. Even covered with blood, Gretchen looked like a movie star. Her hands were gloved with red. The white polyester dress was so stained it looked like it was patterned with roses. Gretchen reached over and plucked Archie’s gun from Susan’s hands and set it on the floor. They were so close that Susan could see the tiny earring holes in Gretchen’s earlobes. Gretchen put one hand on Susan’s upper arm and the other on top of Susan’s bad shoulder.

Susan cringed from pain, afraid to move. “Don’t touch me,” she said.