by Shade Owens
It almost looked like an old bamboo sled or sleigh—the kind you’d see in history books or the ones you’d find in vintage shops—only without a curve at the end. Coin had somehow managed to fasten long pieces of bamboo together, and on top, she laid out ridiculous amounts of banana leaves to form a flat bed.
“She’ll hold,” Coin said, wiping a line of sweat from her forehead.
I made a rushed come-hither signal with my hand. “Let’s get Fisher up on it.”
Hammer was the first to bend down by Fisher’s side, and Trim followed, wrapping Fisher’s frail arm around her neck.
“Guys…” Fisher tried. “It’s only. There’s. Come on. Where am—”
She wasn’t making sense. She was probably running a fever. What were we going to do? Even if we took her to the Cove, what then? Navi was dead, and my hope of ever finding Tegan was slowly fading. I’d have to rely on Proxy—hopefully, she’d learned everything Tegan knew. I could only pray she’d pull through.
“Proxy,” I said, “do you know how to help her?”
Proxy nodded, her rat’s nest hair barely moving on her head. “I do. We need to bring down her fever; however, I cannot seem to locate—”
“We’re leaving,” I said quickly. “Can you find whatever plant you need deeper in the jungle?”
“Yes, of course,” she said. “The easiest plant to find should be a cocoa tree; however, I have not seen—”
“Everyone,” I said, “keep your eyes open for a cocoa tree.”
“Cocoa tree?” Johnson said.
Proxy pointed a stiff finger in the air. “Cocoa contains flavonoids—”
Johnson let out a sharp sigh. “I don’t give a shit what it contains. What am I lookin’ for?”
Proxy, with her finger still pointing toward the sky, averted her eyes toward Johnson and said, “Ah. A cocoa tree is rather hard to miss. Although it is small, reaching a maximum of twenty-six feet—”
“Proxy!” I said.
Proxy cleared her throat, her glossy hazel eyes darting between Johnson’s and mine. “Big orange or yellow balls.”
“Everyone got that?” I said, and everyone nodded.
Fisher suddenly let out a loud moan.
“Almost there,” Trim said, lowering Fisher’s upper body onto Coin’s handcrafted bed.
Hammer, who was at the other end, gently let Fisher’s legs fall onto the bamboo, and Fisher let out another groan. I stared at Fisher’s thigh and grimaced—it was swollen and red. But I wasn’t complaining; I much preferred red over white. If it weren’t for Proxy having cleaned her wounds religiously, Fisher would probably be already dead.
“Let’s go,” Trim said, reaching down to grab one of the ropes.
Hammer did the same, and together, they dragged Fisher on the jungle floor.
“Everyone ready?” I asked.
Rocket patted me on the back and joined Trim’s side. It wasn’t like her to be this quiet. And it wasn’t because of the new crowd, either. Rocket wasn’t shy. She talked more than anyone I knew, and she’d always been so chipper. Yet the way her bright green eyes kept watching Fisher showed she was scared—terrified beyond belief to lose her friend.
I’d seen those two go at it many times before, but in the end, they were like any other dysfunctional family—a family filled with an imbalanced ratio of love and hatred. Even if they fought, they cared about each other in a way that words couldn’t describe.
I turned on my heels and made my way to the front of the crowd with Coin by my side. We’d ventured this way before and we could do it again. It was best to retrace our steps—to follow Coin’s markings—than to attempt to find an untraveled path to the Cove. Besides, the path alongside the river was smooth and unbroken, which would make the trip much more endurable, not only for Fisher but also for Trim and Hammer who were exerting themselves to pull her. The last thing they needed was to carry Fisher over their heads only to step over uneven terrain.
“You okay?” Ellie asked, appearing by my side.
Why did she feel the need to check up on me, anyway? Of course I wasn’t okay. I’d seen countless dead bodies over the last year, most of them the result of unnecessary and gruesome violence. If women weren’t being slaughtered by women, they were being attacked by an animal or decomposing from an illness that Navi had been unable to cure. Maybe deep down, that’s what I was waiting for—an illness. Why hadn’t I gotten sick?
Rocket once told me that at least a quarter of the women who are dropped on Kormace Island end up dying within one week of being there. So why was I spared? Why couldn’t I have caught some foreign virus? I wouldn’t have ended up here. I wouldn’t be leading a group of women through a jungle filled with threats all around us.
And what did the government do? Release goddamn zoo animals to increase our likelihood of dying? Because that’s what this was about, wasn’t it? Saving on tax dollars. And what better way to do that than to permanently eliminate us. Honestly, I’d rather have the death penalty: the standard electric chair version, not this one.
I thought of Mr. Milas, the Attorney General of the Department of Justice. I remembered seeing him in an interview once when he was asked about this new approach to criminal convictions. With his crisp, white suit and his blond hair pulled back into a small bun, he’d looked smugger than the president himself. “Our primary goal,” he’d said, “is to ensure public safety while also improving our economy by eliminating unnecessary costs that go into our penal system.”
The interviewer, a young man wearing a carrot-top button up who’d probably only recently graduated from University, pulled his notes up underneath his glasses and asked, “And speaking of this approach, Mr. Milas, we’ve recently discovered that there are several islands currently being considered for this project. Can you tell me more about that?”
Mr. Milas smiled a set of perfectly white teeth, undoubtedly the result of an expensive dental procedure, and said, “Yes, Greggory, that’s correct.” He fixed his tie and stiffened his posture. “We are currently considering four islands, three of which will be reserved for the male population of prisoners convicted of first-degree murder. The fourth will be reserved for women only. While I can’t divulge the whereabouts of these islands, I can assure you that the government is taking every measure to ensure these islands are safe and livable and allow for a prosperous life.”
Greggory crossed one leg over the other. “You mention the island being safe and livable. Is this to say that the government will be playing a role in cultivation on these islands?” He leaned forward, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “What I mean is, are they designing these islands? Will they be adding wildlife?”
Mr. Milas smirked and ran his fingers over the golden scruff of his face. “Some wildlife will be brought to the islands for feeding purposes, yes.”
That’s all I remembered. I’d turned off the TV after getting sick of looking at his cocky smirk. I didn’t realize it then, but he knew more than he was letting on. He knew exactly what the government was doing, and that was setting us up for failure. Why couldn’t the women of the island see that? Why weren’t we banning together as women, rather than turning on each other?
“Lydia?”
My eyes shot up at Ellie. Had she been staring at me this whole time?
“You okay?” she asked again, this time reaching for my arm.
I considered lying to her and forcing a smile, but I’d tried the same thing before, and all it did was push her away from me. I didn’t want that. If there was one person I wanted by my side, it was Ellie. She understood me like no one else.
“I’m tired,” I said, stepping through a pile of decomposing leaves. What I truly wanted to say was, I wish I were dead, but I didn’t want to upset her. If she knew my thoughts, she wouldn’t look at me the same. I wanted it all to end.
She squeezed my forearm and her plush lips curved at one corner.
“What about you?” I asked, suddenly realizing that our conversations were
always about me. Why didn’t I ever take the time to see how she was doing? Because she was always smiling? That didn’t mean anything.
She shrugged, and for the first time, I saw a glimmer of doubt in her eyes—something that told me I had to be strong for the both of us.
“This Cove,” I said, grabbing her hand, “we’ll be safe there. Things will go back to the way they used to be and we’ll build a home for ourselves, okay?”
She nodded, but she wasn’t convinced. I’d never seen her this upset before. She was always the strong one—always the one who, despite our horrific circumstances, told me to hold on to hope.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She shook her head, but I didn’t release my stare. Something was up, and I wanted her to know she could talk to me.
“You can tell me,” I said.
She laughed—an uncomfortable chuckle that I knew was the result of her trying to mask her emotions. “It’s probably hormonal,” she said.
“What?” I asked.
She shrugged again. “I don’t know… You’re gonna think I’m neurotic.”
I stopped walking and tugged on her hand. “I’d never think that.”
She pulled a loose strand of hair out of her mouth, brushed her wavy hair back, and said, “It’s this feeling I have. But it’s only a feeling, you know? Feelings aren’t real.”
“What feeling?” I asked.
Her dark eyes rolled up at me, almost pleading. “A nasty feeling that keeps telling me we won’t make it to the Cove.”
CHAPTER 8
We won’t make it to the Cove.
We won’t make it to the Cove.
Why had I kept pushing? I wished she hadn’t told me what she was thinking. The last thing I needed as the newly voted leader of this crew was to have even an ounce of doubt about my decision. I may have wished for death a few minutes prior, but not death to the people I was leading—especially not a violent one.
Why would she feel this, anyway? It wasn’t like she was psychic. So why did I believe her? Why was my heart pounding against the leather of my shirt? And why were my hands clammy around my bow?
I bit down hard, attempting to focus on the hazy path in front of me. I could hear Rocket and Trim talking to each other and nearly swung around to tell them to shut up.
But I wasn’t that person. They weren’t doing anything wrong. It was me. I was panicking.
“Yo, you good, Brone?”
I glanced sideways at Coin. She’d cocked a brow and her dark lip was pulled over her gold tooth.
“What?” I said, almost in a snap.
“You’re lookin’ a little pale. What’s up?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. Let’s keep moving on the same path we took earlier.”
I regripped my bow, feeling it slip inside of my palm, and started imagining what it would feel like to have an arrow penetrate my chest—crack through my ribs and tear out through my back. Why couldn’t I stop thinking? And then another image flashed through my mind—the sight of a young woman screaming amid hot flames, the side of her face melting into her clothes.
“Brone!”
My heart nearly jumped out of my throat.
Coin was staring at me, her eyes wide open—two big white balls at the center of a black head.
“Snap out of it. Whatever you’re thinkin’ about, think about it later. You ain’t even lookin’ around for predators, and my eyes ain’t good enough. I got ears, that’s it.”
She shot a glance back toward the crew, almost as if ensuring they hadn’t heard anything. I was thankful for that—I didn’t want them knowing I was off my game.
She made her eyes go big again until I finally nodded. “Sorry, you’re right.”
I cleared my throat and stared straight ahead. The sound of the river’s flow filled the air, as did the scent of fresh cool water, and I knew we were nearing the waterfall. Now, it was only a matter of following the river down to the waterfall without being ambushed or hunted by anyone or anything.
* * *
“Mom, I don’t want to go,” I said, repositioning my candles and mirror on my shelf.
“Honey,” she said, “you’ve been excited about this for months. What’s going on?”
I looked back at her. How was I supposed to explain to her that it simply didn’t feel right? That I had a big ball of anxiety in my stomach and it felt like I was going to melt into the floor. My seventh-grade teacher had organized a school trip to a local zoo called Paprica Habitat.
Yeah, I’d been really excited about it. I loved animals. But that morning, it felt like my entire world was falling apart. It was as though I knew something others didn’t. Maybe the school bus was going to get into a major accident, or maybe, one of the caged animals was going to get out and attack someone.
Either way, I didn’t want to go.
“Just don’t feel good,” I said, and I could tell by the way my mom tilted her head of curly blond hair that she wasn’t buying it.
But she didn’t push. Instead, she leaned in with her red-stained lips and kissed my forehead. “You’re old enough to make your own decisions. I’ll call Mr. Trume and let him know you’re sick.”
Embarrassed, I barely made eye contact. But at the same time, if something did happen, I wouldn’t be in harm’s way. So, I stayed in bed reading a book that day, constantly wondering if my classmates were okay.
I even went to bed that night and dreamed that the school bus had been in a horrible accident on the highway, leaving nothing but pieces of seats, crushed metal, and a disassembled engine. Then the next morning, the sun came up and the birds chirped beside my bedroom window. I rubbed my crusted eyes, sat up, and grabbed my phone to read the news.
There was no bus crash nor any outrageous zoo story to be told.
I got dressed, ate breakfast, and made my way outside to the bus stop. At exactly 7:45 a.m., the black-and-silver-framed school bus appeared at the end of my road as it always did, the morning sun glistening off its tinted windows.
The bus driver reached for the door’s release button, and the glass doors swung open with a swoosh. She smiled down at me from underneath her baseball cap.
Everything was the same as it was every morning. So why had I felt that way the day before?
“Lydia!” Steven called out.
Steven was my bus buddy. He always wanted to talk about the latest and coolest video games released for the new PlayStation Infinity.
“Where were you yesterday?” he asked. “It was so much fun. You should’ve seen the green lions and the hairless pandas!”
I’d heard about these genetically modified animals. Although I didn’t agree with the process, I agreed with the cause, which was to save endangered animals. I still wished I’d been there.
“Sorry, Steve, I didn’t feel good.”
He slouched his shoulders and let out a playful sigh. “Too bad. You missed out.”
I had missed out, I thought. All because of a feeling—a feeling of anxiety that hadn’t even meant anything.
* * *
We will make it to the Cove.
We will make it to the Cove.
Maybe if I repeated these words enough times in my head, we’d be okay. I glanced back at Ellie, who was walking along the river’s edge with Trim and Hammer, checking in on Fisher every few minutes. I wasn’t a fan of standing out in the open like this, but it was the smoothest path to the waterfall, and with Fisher grasping to life by a thread, it was important she be at least somewhat comfortable throughout the trek. The more she slept, the better.
Proxy walked in a zigzag motion, raising her long legs over giant leaves to get through the jungle. She brushed her fingers along the surfaces of leaves, across branches, and around little berries.
“How much longer?” Franklin said.
I resisted the urge to tell her to keep her mouth shut. Instead, I glanced back briefly and said, “Keep your weapons up and your eyes open.”
Franklin rolled her eye
s again, but she listened. She turned her head from side to side, the tip of her hunting spear following her movements.
Johnson, looking almost overweight beside Franklin’s bony structure, clutched her stick with both hands and twirled her palms around it a few times, her brown eyes wide and never resting.
Everest wasn’t much help, but I couldn’t blame her. She was using her stick as a walking staff more than anything, trying to ease the pain in her hips as much as possible.
“You guys okay?” I asked, turning toward Trim and Hammer.
Trim let go of the ropes, placed her hands in the arch of her back, and stretched.
“She’s heavier than I thought,” Trim said, and for a moment it almost looked like she’d been about to smile.
Hammer, on the other hand, was as red as a tomato. She had big blotchy patches running down her neck and across her chest. The skin on her face looked like it was melting—shiny and drooping.
“You okay, Hammer?” I asked.
She bent forward with her hands on her knees, and saliva came stringing out of her mouth. She raised a hand in the air as if to say, “I need a minute.”
But we didn’t have a minute. We needed to keep moving.
Rocket must have noticed my wheels turning. She nudged Hammer in the shoulder and said, “I got this, big guy.”
Hammer nodded, her round face jiggling as she took Rocket’s spear and traded positions.
“I’ll help, too,” Ellie said, and she reached for the rope by Trim’s feet.
Trim hesitated, noticeably unaccustomed to accepting help from anyone.
“It’s okay, Trim,” I said. “I’d rather have you up here with me.”
She nodded, grabbed the hunting spear Ellie was carrying, and came to my side, her heavy footsteps crunching over small twigs and river stones.
“You think Proxy will save her?” Trim asked, her dark eyes rolling toward Proxy who kept disappearing behind curtains of vines and intertwined plants.
I glanced back at Fisher—with her pale, slimy body, she could easily be mistaken for a corpse. She already looked dead and it was as if we were taking her body someplace that allowed for a proper burial. I didn’t want to think that way, but I couldn’t help it.
