HIS WORDS DIED IN HIS throat. Outside there was a scream—a shrill, eerie human cry. The high-pitched scream of a woman! Gun in hand, with Jan close behind me, I ran outside. The dimness of the rocky gully seemed empty. The cry had died away.
“Torrence! You Torrence—what in the devil—”
My low vehement words wafted away. There was no Torrence. Cautiously I ran around the bow of the wrecked ship, gazed down its other side.
“Torrence—Torrence—”
The nearby rocks seemed to echo back my words, mocking me.
“Why—why—” Jan gasped, “I left him right out here. He was just standing, looking down at Roberts’ body with the arrow in it. I just thought I’d go inside with you for a minute.”
I pulled him down to the ground. We crouched, close against the side of the ship. “That scream,” I whispered, “w
