by Shade Owens
“How many followers are we talking about, here?” I asked.
“I don’t know, Brone—” But then, Elektra came storming toward us, punching invisible enemies in the air.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she growled. “Stupid bitch.”
“Hey!” Fisher said, her tone deep and stern.
I’d never pegged Fisher as the parental type, but it was clear she was doing her best to contribute to Elektra’s development.
“Sorry,” Elektra mumbled. Then, she dropped her hunting bow into the sand and plopped herself down. “Why can’t we kill her?”
Fisher glowered at her. “You don’t just kill people, Elektra.”
“But you do,” she said, and Fisher gave me an awkward glance.
“Just because we’ve all done bad things in the past, it doesn’t mean we have to continue to do them.”
As Fisher tried to convince Elektra that we didn’t have the right to take someone’s life even though there were criminals on the island, I wondered… Would she look at me differently if she knew about the lives I’d taken? If she knew about the Northers I’d killed, the women I’d nearly killed in a blackout, and the countless Ogres I’d slaughtered?
Would she think I was a ticking time bomb?
The whole gang joined us at the back of the Cove—Coin, Hammer, Biggie, Flander, Arenas, Rocket, Ellie, Johnson, and Proxy.
Although I felt at home, it also seemed like I was again sitting on enemy territory.
“Where we sleepin’?” Arenas asked.
She sounded like an entitled teenager. I almost said, “In the sand,” but Rocket pointed toward what appeared to be an opening in the cliff wall—a cavern that led into the cliff. I couldn’t tell how deep it was, but it looked deep enough for someone to walk into and disappear from one’s sight.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Where we sleep,” Fisher said. “Feels safer than sleeping out on the beach, right in Hawkins’s view. I’m surprised she hasn’t come to take this from us, too.”
I clenched my fists. I didn’t even know the woman, but the sound of her name made me want to punch her in the face.
“Flander told us all about it,” Coin said. “Man, that’s bullshit. Why can’t you all enjoy the Cove together? Ain’t no reason to still be fighting. Haven’t we all suffered enough already?”
“Human beings are dumb,” Hammer said pensively.
“Look, stay out of her way, and she’ll stay out of ours,” Fisher said. “There’s no use trying to get revenge. We’re outnumbered.”
I was so sick of hearing that—outnumbered.
It wasn’t fair. Why was evil always winning over good? Coin was right. We’d suffered enough already. We’d had our Village burned to the ground, yet our own women, survivors of the massacre, had allowed some newcomer to ruin our society.
Was it because they were weak? Devasted from the attack? Were they too afraid to fight? Or, could it be they wanted someone to follow, and they’d allow anyone strong enough to lead them?
None of that mattered because I realized something.
Before I could say anything, Jack came jogging toward us. “Hey, guys!” she said, waving her hand high over her head. “You must be Brone’s friends. Holy moly, has she ever talked about you guys.”
What was she talking about? I hadn’t talked about any of them.
“Can’t believe I’m meeting you finally!” The sun-damaged skin on her face stretched, revealing her rotten teeth. “So, is this our new camp? Our freedom land? Our safe haven?” she rambled. “What a gorgeous place.” She sucked hard through her nostrils, and the clicking sound of mucus being pulled into her throat filled the air. Then, she hacked and spat a glob in the sand.
“Ew!” Elektra shouted.
Jack pointed at the cave in the wall, completely ignoring Elektra. “That where we’re sleeping? Smart place. Especially if it’s raining!”
She continued to ramble, but her voice slowly faded from my ears. It became a distant hum—a radio host talking in the background. The one thing I could focus on was the group of women—my women—walking toward us.
They looked exhausted, their feet dragging in the sand, but they were all looking at the same thing—me.
They were still following me, even though we’d made it to our destination.
Was I their leader now?
Then, I remembered Quinn and the countless women she’d been instructed to guide to safety. How many were there? Eighty? One hundred? All survivors who’d escaped imprisonment. While I didn’t know where they’d gone, one of her women, Aisha, had come with me to guide the way.
I turned to Fisher, the loud bickering around me suddenly returning. I must have gasped with excitement because everyone went quiet and looked at me.
“We aren’t outnumbered,” I said.
“What’re you talking about?” Fisher asked.
But I didn’t have to answer.
The women who’d followed me—the ones I’d saved—formed a half circle around us and one by one, dropped to one knee. Then, each one raised a hand in the air, their fingers spread apart as they’d done in the past to Rainer, and later, as they’d done to me in the city.
I smirked sideways at Fisher, and her jaw hung loose.
First, we’d take down Hawkins; then, we’d save Murk.
EPISODE 12
PROLOGUE
I sucked in moist, salty air, feeling like I’d swallowed a glass of ocean water.
Where was I? By the water?
Why couldn’t I remember anything? Where were my women? Coin? Hammer? Arenas? Johnson? Nearby, voices filled the air, but they were so faint they sounded like flies hovering around a dead carcass.
I tried to open my eyes, but they were sealed shut—literally. At first, I thought I’d been kidnapped in my sleep, only to be tied up and tortured by Rainer. Maybe they’d sewn my eyelids shut, and I was finally getting punished for my big mouth.
But then, rationality kicked in—it was nothing more than crust. I hadn’t had this problem since I was a kid; it was terrifying, and every time, I’d scream for my mom. She’d come running into my room with a hot cloth to wipe the hardened gunk from my lids.
That was a long time ago, so why was it happening now? Had I cried in my sleep? God, I hoped not.
Any minute now, Alice Number Two would come pouring a bucket of rainwater on me, urging me to get up. She’d tell me I’d slept in long enough, accuse me of being useless, and force me to get my lazy ass over to the Food Station.
But there was no cold water, no shouting, nothing.
Why wasn’t she coming? My heart raced—I hated the unknown. It made me feel vulnerable and, in a sense, weak. I needed to know what was happening at all times if I hoped to offer courage and guidance to the women around me.
I needed to be in control.
The air around me changed as if a thermostat controlled the outdoor air. It became cool and damp, rather than hot and sticky as it always was in the Northers’ city.
Where was I? Something was wrong.
I fought against my eyelids, trying hard to pry my eyes open, but it was impossible, as though they’d been superglued shut. The texture over my lids was hard and crusty, and no matter how much I rubbed, all it did was allow a few flakes to fall.
A firm hand suddenly landed on my forearm and I flinched.
Without thinking, I snapped my arm out straight ahead and grabbed the woman, whoever she was, by the throat. Had I slept with a shiv—which I didn’t as it was forbidden in the city—I’d have held it up to her throat. My own women knew not to startle me like that.
She pried at my arm and through broken speech, said, “B-B-Brone. It’s… It’s me.”
I immediately let go. “Ellie?”
Ellie.
The Cove.
It was all coming back to me now.
“Oh God,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
She brushed delicate fingers against my cheek and it was like an angel’s wing again
st my skin. What a corny thought, but I couldn’t help it. There was something so soothing about her touch.
I couldn’t see her, but I heard her smile—the sound of lips unsticking from teeth and saliva popping.
“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” she said.
I beamed, though the thought of having laid a hand on her made me wince. I hadn’t meant to. It was instinctive—a reaction the island had created in me.
Was I prone to violence, now?
“Hold still,” she said, and something warm and wet slid over my eyes and across my cheeks. She rubbed gently, and bit by bit, light filtered through the cracks of my sealed eyelids.
At last, I saw her.
She sat at my side, legs wrapped in a beige cotton dress, giving her the appearance of a mermaid. And she looked like one, too—a soft, silky complexion, long wavy brown hair, penetrating eyes that seemed capable of reading minds, and a smile that made me want to do anything she asked of me.
She caught me staring and the corner of her lip curved up playfully. Shifting, she put the weight of her upper body on one arm. In the other, she gripped what seemed like a basic handcloth you’d find in a dollar store, but upon closer inspection, it was a clump of bunched seaweed she’d used to clean my face.
I cringed, knowing I’d have to get used to seaweed around here; in sixth grade, we became sworn enemies. I’d been swimming in a lake at an isolated cottage my mom’s friend insisted we use for the weekend when something cold and slimy wrapped itself around my ankle and held me down beneath the surface of the water.
Thankfully, my mom was attentive when it came to keeping a close eye on me. She must have seen my arms flapping around in the water. The next thing I knew, she held me in her arms, her hot breath colliding with my face. “It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you,” she’d said over, and over again.
“Hey,” Ellie said so lovingly that I wanted to pull her tight against me and go back to sleep.
Was I truly here? Was this the Universe’s way of giving back? Of rewarding me for all the torment I’d endured? This life—a life on the beach with Ellie by my side—was like something out of a romance movie.
I parted my lips to say something cheesy, like, I could stay here forever—even though I’d have never said that in a million years before meeting Ellie and the thought of it made me feel stupid—but I didn’t have time.
Outside of our rocky shelter came a horrifying scream that caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up. Suddenly, Ellie and I were back to being two murderous convicts on Kormace Island, and my fantasy dissipated instantly. I recognized that sound—it was a cry of panic and sheer agony.
Were we being attacked? Had Zsasz found us at last?
I grabbed my bow and threw my quiver over my shoulder, its arrows rocking hard from side to side.
My feet slapped through the mixture of cool sand and stone as I ran toward the morning light, but I didn’t even have to make it out of our cavern to know what was going on.
The terrorized shout that followed left no doubt as to what was happening.
“Shark!”
CHAPTER 1
It looked like someone had dumped a truckload of red food coloring in the water.
I didn’t understand how that much blood could have come out of one person. Women gathered from every direction, forming a circle around something in the sand.
Had they killed the shark? Was that what they were looking at?
I ran toward them, the morning sun warming my back.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” one woman ranted, pacing back and forth, running her hands across her shaved head over and over again. Her mouth hung open so wide that had I not been standing beside her, I’d have thought she was yelling. “It’s… it’s my fault,” she continued. “I didn’t think anything would happen. We were… we were…”
Then, she dropped into the sand and quickly crawled like a crab toward the women forming a circle.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she continued, but I couldn’t see her. She’d disappeared behind dozens of legs. “Jovana…” Then, she coughed, and it sounded like snot bubbles had popped under her nose.
Elbows sticking out, I shoved my way through the crowd. Not willing to stand around, I needed to know what was going on. Yet the moment my foot broke through the dozens of legs—the moment I laid eyes on what could only be described as a senseless bloodbath—I wished I’d stayed at the back of the Cove.
A woman, assumedly Jovana, lay in the sand, her face whiter than a marshmallow and her arms spread out crookedly on either side of her body. Underneath her, the sand had turned a dark brown, but it was the bottom half of her body that caused me to keep staring: part of it was missing.
Her right leg was nothing more than a bloody stump with a protruding femur bone, torn muscles, and hanging ligaments. I sealed my lips tight together and averted my gaze, my surroundings spinning. I’d seen violence and gore before, but this was so fresh, and what bothered me most was that she was still alive.
“The fuck happened?” someone snapped.
The injured woman didn’t move. Her breathing was rapid, and every few seconds, her body twitched. She’d probably passed out from the pain.
Any moment now, she’d wake up and see what remained of her leg.
“What were you guys doing out there?” someone else shouted.
They all sounded so angry, but it was probably the fear and anxiety creating tension.
“You know damn well we don’t go in the water in the mornings or the evenings,” someone growled.
It sounded like they were scolding the woman—the one with the shaved head sitting in the sand, prodding and pulling at her best friend or lover.
But she didn’t answer anyone. Instead, she kept babbling, “Jovana…”
Someone scoffed, which surprised me so much that I pushed a woman out of my way to see who it was.
“Shouldn’t’a been havin’ sex in the fuckin’ water, eh Sofia? That’s what you get for bein’ a fuckin’ dyke.”
The woman, a middle-aged bag of bones with skin so damaged it might as well have been melting off her, offered the grieving woman a rotten grin. She seemed proud of the heinous comment she’d made.
“You fu—” said Sofia, the grieving woman. Without finishing her sentence, she lunged straight at the bag of bones and they both fell onto the sand.
“What’d you say?” Sofia shouted, her voice breaking. She didn’t let the older woman respond. Instead, she bashed her fist into her face. A loud cracking sound prompted everyone to step back.
The hateful woman smiled up at her, blood spilling through the cracks of her teeth. Humping upward, she caused Sofia to shift from side to side and made a revolting moaning sound. “Yeah, ya like that? That what it felt like before that shark came at ya? Was it worth it?”
“Guys, stop!” someone shouted.
Sofia swung another tight fist right at the woman’s nose, and blood splattered over her lips and chin.
She wasn’t smiling anymore. She reached for her nose, which was no doubt broken, and winced.
Someone grabbed Sofia and dragged her off the woman. She didn’t seem to mind that the fight had stopped. Immediately, she rushed back to Jovana and lay her head on her chest.
It was apparent, now—the love. She brushed her fingers along Jovana’s forehead, then reached down and kissed it.
I swallowed past a lump in my throat.
I couldn’t even imagine how she was feeling.
Had that been Ellie… I wasn’t sure what I’d have done.
“Guys, give her some space,” someone said.
“Space?” came another voice. “She needs help. Now. Where’s that Proximity woman? The one who helped Fisher?”
“Proxy?”
“Yeah, her.”
“She ain’t no doctor, and ain’t no way is she gonna help us.”
Us? Were these Hawkins’s women? The ones Fisher had warned me about?
“We gotta do—
” but then, everyone stopped bickering.
They stepped aside as a tall woman came forward. It was like seeing the real-life version of a story I was taught as a kid—the story of Moses. The only difference was, this woman wasn’t splitting water apart. She’d somehow managed to split the entire crowd in two without saying a word.
“What’s going on, here?”
Her voice was deep, which suited her height. Her dirty-blond hair was tied back into a tight bun at the base of her skull. She had shoulders as broad as a man’s, and a stance that exuberated confidence and fearlessness. At first, I’d thought her eyes were black but realized it was the way she bowed her head forward.
“Shark attack,” someone said, sounding like a soldier on duty.
She raised her head, revealing strange gray eyes—not light but not dark, either. Her neck bore a green tattoo, which was likely once black but looked so weathered that the ink had lost most of its color. I had to stare at it for a few seconds to finally realize what it was—a sea trident with dozens of skulls floating in the background. The ink took up half her neck on the right side and continued down under her shirt, which was mostly an entanglement of seaweed and a poorly carved wooden chest plate. It made her look even bigger than she was.
She squinted at the bloody body in the sand, which meant she probably used to wear glasses. I wasn’t all that surprised seeing as the woman looked to be in her forties or early fifties.
“What was she doing out in the ocean at this time?” she asked.
Although it seemed like she was talking to everyone at once, no one was brave enough to step forward and speak up. Finally, someone inched their way through the sand to approach the woman, head bowed. “Um, well, Sofia was with her.”
The woman’s creepy eyes rolled toward Sofia. “Is this true?”
Sofia didn’t say anything. Instead, she pulled Jovana’s body closer to hers and kissed her pale forehead again.
Without expressing an ounce of sympathy, the tall woman extracted from her belt a small, curved shiv made of either stone or a large seashell.
Sofia looked up when the woman’s body cast a long shadow over her.
