by Shade Owens
I pressed my legs against my chest, rested my chin on my knees, and looked around. We were hiding inside a shallow rock shelter, hidden from view by crusted plants hanging at the entryway like a torn-up curtain you’d find covering a window in an old haunted house. There wasn’t much space, but with only five of us remaining—Nyla and her two devoted followers having stayed behind and the injured woman having refused our help—we managed to fit.
Aside from Hammer and Fisher, the other two women were complete strangers to me. Being that we were practically touching arms and recycling each other’s breaths, it was only reasonable that I got to know them.
“I’m Brone,” I said, my teeth clattering. “I’m a Hunter, and I can get us food.”
Everyone remained silent. I wasn’t sure if this was because they already knew who I was and they didn’t like me or because they were intimidated.
I eyed Fisher, who uncrossed her arms and placed both hands on her hips. “I’m Fisher, as I’m sure you know. It’s pretty simple—don’t attack me and I won’t attack you.”
I watched as several eyes averted her stare, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Fisher’s the best fighter I know,” I added quickly. “If she’s on your side, she’ll protect you.”
Fisher scoffed and turned away, but she knew I was right.
Hammer cleared her throat, breaking the tension. “I’m good with my hands,” she said.
I glared at her, remembering her doughy body holding me down on the jungle floor. She sat there, arms folded over her large bare chest, her hands hidden underneath her armpits.
“I can build weapons… tools. You name it,” she said.
She glanced at me, but only for a second. Although I despised her ugly, swollen face, she was valuable to us. I’d have to get over what had happened.
I looked up at the woman who was standing guard at the shelter’s entryway.
“What about you? What can you offer?” I asked.
I wasn’t used to being the one leading a discussion, but these women followed strength, and being that I had killed our attacker and maimed Nyla, I was currently their symbol of strength.
“I’m Franklin,” the woman said, alternating her gaze between us and the jungle.
She looked confident, her chin raised high and her small lips always tight on her face. Her short, shoulder-length hair, which appeared to be brown due to the rain, was most likely strawberry blonde. She had a stunning sugar skull tattoo on her left shoulder, its hair flowing down her arm and around her elbow, forming a half sleeve, and tribal markings on her other arm.
“I was assigned Battlewoman. I won’t be of much use, though”—she eyed my quiver sticking out over my shoulder—“I don’t have a weapon.”
“I’ll hook you up, girl,” Hammer said.
Ugh, she was so repulsive.
Franklin nodded as a way of acknowledgment, and our eyes all shifted to the last woman. She was older than the rest of us—sixty-something, maybe—with shaggy gray and white hair, flabby arms that looked like pancakes against her sides, and a face so stern I couldn’t read her whatsoever.
“I’m Everest,” she said, her r’s rolling off the tip of her tongue, “you know, cause of—” and pointed up at her hair.
Hammer let out a deep laugh, but Fisher slapped her on the chest.
“This place echoes, you twit!” Fisher said. “Are you tryin’ to get us killed?”
Hammer looked away like a child caught picking her nose.
“I’m a…” Everest started, “vell, used to be, a Farmer.”
There was no smile on her face, nor any form of kindness whatsoever. In fact, her lips were turned upside down. Was she reserved, or just cold?
“I’m good at preserving and preparing food,” she added, gesturing a partially closed fist in the air. “One of ze best cooks in Alchevst,” she went on.
Hammer scoffed. “Never heard of the place. Must be some tiny little—”
“Is Ukraine,” Everest said, “you foolish—”
“Perfect,” Fisher cut in. “Brone will kill, you’ll cook.”
“Well,” Franklin said, popping her head into the discussion, “looks like we might just stand a chance after all.”
Hammer was about to laugh again, but she caught a glimpse of Fisher’s glare and looked back down at the leafy floor.
“We need to eat soon,” I said. Although I’d passed the stage of hunger and stomach pains, I knew my body was hungry. I hadn’t eaten in two days, and basic movements were becoming difficult due to light-headedness and muscle weakness.
The only upside to the storm was the rain. I stepped out of the rock shelter and tilted my head back, swallowing mouthfuls of fresh rainwater.
“If we can make it to the Grounds,” Fisher said, “we can make a fire inside the waterfall.”
“And how do you expect to find any food?” Franklin said. She pushed aside the curtain-like barrier to further prove her point. There was nothing but decay out there.
“Vat’s ze matter vit’ fish?” Everest asked.
“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” Fisher moved toward her.
Everest’s unimpressed eyes rolled up at Fisher. “Fish. Vater. Food,” she said, gesturing her hand toward her mouth.
Fisher retraced her steps, chest puffed out. “Ah, kay,” she said. “Thought that’s what you meant.” She stood there for a moment, one arm crossed over her chest and the other hand up by her face, pulling on her bottom lip.
“Is fish even safe to eat?” Fisher asked, peering outside. “I mean, any fresh water around here is probably filled with ash by now.”
“Fisher’s right.” I then remembered a news article I’d read at work following a devastating wildfire that had spread across several regions and lasted for days. “The water could be contaminated due to all the ash and cinder. And if the water’s contaminated, the fish could be, too.”
Everest shrugged her shoulders. “Zat’s probably true.”
“So what,” Franklin chimed in, “we supposed to go back toward shore? Go fishing? With what? Sticks?”
“I can build—” Hammer started.
“We just traveled for hours,” Franklin continued. “We’ll probably collapse before we even get to the ocean. And what about drinking water? I haven’t had anything in over a day. And you know what they say—“three days without shelter, three days without water.”
“We get it, Frank,” Fisher said.
Franklin glared at her. “It’s Franklin.”
Fisher rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
“She’s right,” I said, my eyes meeting Fisher’s. “We need to find food and water.”
“That’s why we keep moving,” Fisher said. “If we can get to the Working Grounds, Murk may have left resources in—”
“Are you insane?” Franklin said. She’d completely abandoned lookout duty and was now facing us, arms swaying in all directions as she spoke. “How do we know the Northers aren’t waiting there for us, huh?” Her eyes were large and round, her tight-muscled posture full of confidence. Even I wouldn’t have spoken against Fisher like that. She had courage, to say the least. “And how do we know the wildfire didn’t spread across the entire fucking island? It’s not like a magical barrier prevented the fire from spreading backward!”
“Well, actually,” I cut in, “the fire spreads depending on the wind, so technically—”
“We don’t have anywhere to go!” Franklin went on. “We don’t know what’s beyond the Village and the Grounds! What if the entire other half of the island is Norther territory? What if there’s a bunch of Ogres the farther we get into the jungle?”
“All right!” Fisher finally snapped, but she immediately lowered her voice when it echoed across the inside of the shelter. “All right, okay? I get it. It’s a huge risk. But what do you want us to do? If we go back toward shore, we’re putting ourselves out in the open. Not only that, but we’ll never make it in this weather. It’s not like we can fish
with huge waves crashing on us anyways. Our best option is to keep moving and hope for the best.”
Franklin scoffed. “Hope for the best? Look, I get it, Fisher. You’re a good leader, and you know this island better than any of us, but we need to be smart about—”
“Shut up!” Fisher hissed.
Franklin stopped talking, cocked an eyebrow, and continued. “Seriously? I’m trying to communicate, and you think you can—”
In one swift movement, Fisher spun around Franklin and pulled her in against her body, one arm snug over her chest and the other covering her mouth so tight that her fingers turned white.
Everyone went silent, realizing that Fisher wasn’t just being Fisher.
Someone was walking outside the shelter.
CHAPTER 9
Franklin’s bulging eyes shot from side to side above Fisher’s hand.
There was rustling amid the sound of pouring rain, followed by faint voices bickering back and forth.
Fisher looked at me, and I immediately prepared my bow, aiming it straight at the entryway. We waited, listening to what sounded like a heavy body being dragged through the mud. Fisher slowly released her grip on Franklin and grabbed her knife.
Right when I saw movement mere inches away from Fisher, I pulled back hard on my bow’s elastic, preparing to kill whoever dared set foot into our hideout.
But then I heard a voice, and I immediately felt at home.
“Brone? Is that you?”
I lowered my bow as she walked into our enclosure.
“Ellie?” I said, wanting nothing more than to throw my arms around her.
I couldn’t believe it was her. Not only was Ellie the first friend I’d made on Kormace Island, she was the only person I’d ever trusted. I thought she was dead. I thought…
She ran into the rock shelter and threw both arms around my neck and squeezed me tight.
“I thought you were dead,” she whispered.
I couldn’t describe my emotions, but I wanted her close to me. I squeezed back, feeling her soft chest press up against mine, and inhaled her scent—a woody, earthy smell combined with a subtle hint of coconut. She always did love moisturizing with coconut oil.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed her.
“I thought you were dead, too,” I said, my throat swelling.
“Would someone help us?”
Ellie let go and rushed back to the entrance where one woman stood covered in blood, and another lay by her feet in the mud. The woman in the mud winced as rain soaked her face and belly, and only then did I notice her two fists clenched around the shaft of an arrow. It was sticking out of her, right below her stomach.
“Bring her in.” Ellie stretched out her arms, gesturing everyone in the shelter to make space.
Aside from her bubbly personality and unwavering loyalty, the one thing I admired most about Ellie was that she was always there to help others, even if it meant putting her own life at risk. There was something so pure about her—a kindness unlike any I’d ever encountered before. I didn’t understand how this part of her still existed on Kormace Island.
Even I—a girl who used to cry at dog rescue videos on YouTube—had begun to feel numb toward the pain of others. I was losing myself. I was losing my sensitivity.
“What happened?” Fisher asked.
Everyone circled the injured woman and bickered back and forth.
“Mia got hit,” Ellie said, “in the Village.”
I recognized her face—soft and childlike—but I hadn’t known her name.
“Ellie,” Mia said choppily, “Ellie saved… She got me out.”
Ellie brushed Mia’s wet hair out of her face and gently massaged her forehead with her thumb.
“It’s okay,” she said, her voice so soothing that my knees buckled. I was exhausted.
“Just fucking pull it out already! It’s killing her!” said the woman who’d followed them in. She reached down toward the protruding arrow, but Fisher’s hand clasped the woman’s wrist so hard the clap-like sound echoed around us.
“Don’t,” Fisher said. “You’ll kill her.” She knelt beside the woman, examining the wound and the arrow’s remaining shaft and fletching.
“This is gonna hurt,” Fisher said, before slowly twirling the shaft of the arrow to one side.
Mia groaned, her eyes sealed shut and her mouth stretched so wide I could see all her back teeth tightly pressed together.
“What the hell are you doing?” asked the nameless woman standing by her side.
I stepped in. “Back off.”
I didn’t know what Fisher was doing, but she had more experience than any of us dealing with wounds—especially those inflicted by arrows.
Fisher stood up, wiped blood from her hands and onto her pants, then said, “Well, it’s not lodged in bone, so that’s good. But there’s no telling what it’s damaged.”
“So take it out!” the woman yelled.
“I can,” Fisher said, calmer than I’d ever seen her, “but it’ll hurt. And even if I do, there’s no guarantee your friend’ll make it. It looks pretty deep.”
The woman took a step back as if she’d only just realized that the possibility of her friend dying wasn’t merely a dream. She threw a hand over her mouth, her eyes filling with tears.
“Do what you have to,” Ellie said, glancing up at Fisher. She continued to stroke Mia’s head.
Fisher grabbed her shiv and came back to Mia’s side, then pressed a firm hand on her belly. “You sure you want me to take it out?”
Mia nodded, her face pale and glistening with cold sweat.
“Somebody give her something to bite on,” Fisher ordered.
Everest stepped forward. For the first time, her face bore more than a blank expression. Whether it was disgust or heartbreak, I couldn’t tell. She handed Fisher a piece of brown material—something I’d noticed fastened to her wrist.
“You’ll want to bite into this,” Fisher said, placing the material inside Mia’s mouth. “I’ll be digging a bit inside to try to pull out the arrow with its head. If the shaft separates from the head, you’ll probably die.” Mia blinked quickly, although I wasn’t sure she was even listening. Fisher glanced up at her friend. “You should probably wait outside.”
The woman shook her head, knelt by Mia’s side, and grabbed her hand.
Fisher glanced up at the circle of women surrounding her, took a deep breath, and pointed her knife toward the wound and began cutting into it.
Mia threw her head back and growled, teeth clenched tight into the brown cloth. Once an incision large enough had been made, Fisher slowly slid a finger along the arrow’s shaft and into the woman’s belly, causing black blood to gush out.
Mia screamed, saliva splashing around the cloth and at the corners of her mouth. She squeezed her friend’s hand so hard that it turned white and blue. But the sound came to an abrupt halt nearly as quickly as it had begun. Her head fell back to the ground, and her grip immediately loosened.
“Mia,” her friend said, a terrified urgency in her voice. She shook her friend’s lifeless hand, then quickly looked up at Fisher who was still digging her finger inside the wound.
“She’s alive,” Ellie said calmly. “She just passed out.”
The woman pressed Mia’s hand against her teary cheek. “Hang in there, girl.”
Fisher repositioned herself, forcing even more of her hand inside the woman’s wound. “Got it.”
She pulled back slowly, one hand gripping the arrow’s shaft, and the other slowly sliding out of the hole. There was so much blood that I couldn’t differentiate Fisher’s hand from the arrow. The tip of her index finger was pressed into the arrowhead’s point.
“Fucking bastards,” Fisher growled.
She wiped the arrowhead into the earth by her feet to clean it, then raised it back at eye level. “Broadhead arrow made of shell. Sharpest thing I’ve ever touched. I’m surprised it didn’t go any deeper than that.”
E
llie rushed into Fisher’s position and held both hands over the wound. “Someone get me something to stop the bleeding.”
Mia’s friend slid off her shirt and handed it to Ellie, who bunched it up into a ball and pressed it firmly over the wound.
Fisher looked at Mia’s friend and waved the bloody arrow in the air. “You need to take care of that wound. Pulling out the arrow is only half the battle. Keep it clean, whatever you do. The other problem is… I’m not a doctor. I didn’t feel any damage to any major organs, but I can’t be sure. She’s lost a lot of blood, too. Make sure she doesn’t lose any more. And if you can,” Fisher went on, “find some garlic cloves to help with the healing. Garlic is antibacterial. Just don’t leave it on the skin too long, it’ll burn her.”
I wondered how many wounds Fisher had seen in her life on this island, and how many people she’d lost to infection. Things would have been so much easier with Tegan around. She had a potion for everything.
Then I thought of Navi. How would we survive without our Medic? Sure, Fisher had managed to pull out the arrow, but this didn’t guarantee anything. Without proper care, Mia was exposed to so many risks.
There was an eerie silence inside the rock shelter as we waited for Mia to come to. But she didn’t. She lay there with her eyes closed and her dry lips parted slightly. I stared at her blanched face and thought perhaps she’d already succumbed to her injury.
CHAPTER 10
“We need to move,” Fisher ordered.
But no one did.
Everest stood up in a stretch and said, “And vat? Gonna leave ze girl here? Let some hungry leopard drag her away?”
Her accent was so pronounced it was hard to understand her.
Fisher quickly glanced at Mia’s still body. “We don’t have a choice. Dragging her around with us is only gonna slow us down.”
Mia’s friend held her motionless body, tears sliding down her rosy cheeks.
