Free The Silent Isle by Nicholas Anderson Page B

 "I guess this was the barracks," Bailus said. 
    "The single
men can occupy it," Dane said. 
    “I dig the
digs,” Paul Johnson said, glancing about the spacious room.  A stone
fireplace sat in the center of one wall.  “We can live like kings
here.” 
    "If we live
at all," his brother said. 
                         
    "Come on,
don't be so glum.  Bax had the right idea.  We should have each
brought our own slave girl.  This is double the space we need."
 Then Paul’s voice trailed off as he realized what everyone else had
already seen.  The barracks was so large because the garrison it had
housed, the garrison which no longer existed, the garrison that had been
powerless to prevent whatever had happened here, had been twice the size of
Dane's entire party. 
    The men filed
back out into the courtyard in silence.  Dane pulled Bailus aside. 
"Find anything?"
    "A few signs of struggle.   But mostly everything's
in place, intact."  He paused.  "Whatever happened here, it
happened fast." 
    Dane
nodded.  "Any chance some of them could have escaped?  That they could be hiding in the woods somewhere?"  
    "I don't
know.  I guess that's what we have to keep hoping." 
    Dane
nodded.  "Ira," he called. 
    "Yes,
sir?" the soldier said, starting towards them. 
    "Take the
rest of Bailus's squad with you.  Get back to the ship and tell Forsythe
to dock her and start unloading everything but what he'll need to take a crew
of ten around the island.  See if you can find any pushcarts to help with
the hauling." 
    "Yes, sir."   Ira departed with the others
following. 
    "You
two," Dane said, nodding to the Johnson twins.  "Get a fire
going in the barracks and light a couple torches." 
    The two men
started off. 
    "Wait,"
Dane said.  He slid his pack off his back and pulled the flag from
it.  "Return this to its place first." 
    "Sir,"
they said and trotted off to do his will. 
    Dane turned back
to Bailus.  Before he could say anything, Rawl and Paul came trotting
back.  “Uh, sir, where would you like the flag?” 
    Dane looked and
realized there were two flag poles, one above the main gate facing south and
towards the harbor, the other above the smaller gate facing north into the
woods and the heart of the island.  Had
a flag hung from each?  Maybe their enemies had taken one after all.  
Thinking the attack had come from the sea and wanting to place the flag on that
side as an act of defiance, Dane said, “Above the main gate.”  He still
understood so little about the island and what had happened there. 
    He turned back
to Bailus.  "First light tomorrow we'll send out three patrols. 
Forsythe will circle the island in the ship and we'll each lead an
overland."  He glanced around.  "I guess we should see
about getting the crew some lunch." 
    "Lunch,
sir?" said Bailus.  "It's nearly dark." 
    Dane glanced up
at the sky.  How had he not noticed how late it was?  Where had
the day gone?   The sweat he had worked up earlier was now a damp chill
beneath his clothes.  He glanced around the compound once more.  The
houses' dark windows gave one the impression someone could be inside, unseen,
but watching, looking out at him.  But somehow this thought was better
than the knowledge the houses were empty.  Completely
empty.  
    He turned from
the little cluster of houses.  Why did the thought of ordering all
hands back to the ship and spending the night on the crowded deck or the open
beach seem better than to sleep within these walls?   Something wasn't
right here.  The open gates.   The stocked shelves.   The place had been conquered but
not plundered.  Why did that trouble him so?   That was when
Kenzie said something about the rats. 
    "What?"
Dane asked, turning to him as if waking from a dream. 
    "The rats, sir.   Where are the rats?" 
    "What
rats?" 
    "Well, think
about the bones in the dog dish; or the bread we saw.  Those things have
been sitting