by Shade Owens
Was there anything this guy didn’t know?
When he caught me staring at him, he added, “Bluecraft Cyclone plane. It’s amphibious. Like I said before, I was in the business of transportation before gettin’ sentenced.”
“Amphibious?” Elektra asked.
Smirking, he added, “It can land and take off on land and water. See that belly? That’s how it floats. They likely landed in the water and climbed up on shore. Ain’t nobody wanna land in the sand. That shit gets stuck in your landin’ gear and the plane’s nose can crash.”
“What do we do?” Rocket asked. “Go check it out?”
Just as she said that, Elektra lunged forward as she’d done earlier, and Rocket quickly grabbed her by the back of her shirt. It was a strange thing to see—with Elektra’s most recent growth spurt, Rocket had to stand on the tips of her toes to reach her.
Glaring at Elektra, I said, “You need to learn impulse control. If you can’t do that, being a Hunter isn’t the right fit for you and I’ll assign you something else.”
Normally, I didn’t comment on Elektra’s behaviors; Rocket was the one in charge of that. But I hoped that coming from me—the leader of the Village—she’d take it a bit more seriously. For the last two years, Elektra had been going out with the Hunters every time they went hunting.
This wasn’t the first time Elektra started running out of nowhere since we’d left the Village. Had I not been friends with Rocket, I’d have never allowed Elektra to become a Hunter.
Was this what she was like every time they left the Village?
If Elektra’s behavior was going to put the Hunters’ lives at risk, I wouldn’t hesitate to disallow her from going hunting.
Elektra cast her eyes to the ground and nodded, no doubt realizing how serious I was.
“We don’t know who that plane belongs to,” I said.
Biggie slammed two hands on her round waist. “Well, it ain’t military.”
Coin nodded fast. “Biggie’s right. Can’t be that much of a threat.”
I locked eyes with Rocket. Although she appeared to share my uncertainty, she seemed to be leaning more toward the idea that the plane was not a threat. Unconsciously, I swept my gaze sideways, my eyes landing on Number 73.
Although I didn’t know the guy, he’d proven himself rather useful in situations like these and I was curious to hear what his thoughts were.
“Well, your friend here is right,” he said, tilting his head toward Biggie. “It ain’t military, and I highly doubt it’s government.”
“Why do you say that?” Biggie asked. “For all we know, a new president took over, hopefully a woman this time, and is comin’ to apologize—”
Coin scoffed. “Please, ain’t no way a woman is in power. The day a drag queen tries to run for office—”
“What the hell do you have against drag queens?” Rocket cut in.
Coin shook her head and smirked. “Man, that shit freaks me out, that’s all I’m sayin’.” She chuckled, her golden tooth reflecting the sun. “No woman should ever be bigger than Biggie.”
Biggie laughed, but Rocket didn’t seem impressed.
“Well grow up,” Rocket said. “It’s art, it’s entertaining, and it’s downright awesome. Who the hell are you to judge? You’re probably bitter ’cause with those muscles of yours, you got mistook for a queen with a real good tuck. Either that or you’re secretly a drag king.”
Coin’s jaw dropped and her eyes doubled in size, but nothing came out.
“What’s a drag queen?” Elektra asked, breaking the tension. “And what’s a tuck?”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sighed. Were they seriously talking about this when we were standing in plain view of an airplane? Was it that difficult to stay focused on the present moment? No doubt feeling my frustration, Rocket and Coin stopped bickering about drag queens, and Elektra stood there, her head turning from side to side, waiting for an answer.
Number 73 let out an amused laugh. “No disrespect, but the president wouldn’t be flying in a plane like that. He, or she… would be flyin’ in something way more expensive. What don’t make sense to me, though, is that the plane is private. Everyone knows that the airspace around the islands is unauthorized. So how’d they get in?”
“They?” Rocket asked. “You think there are several people in there?”
Stretching his neck, he said, “For sure. Who flies a private jet like that without any passengers? That shit’s expensive on fuel.”
Everyone paused, and an uncomfortable silence weighed down on us. Although I’d grown accustomed to making decisions on behalf of several hundred women, I wasn’t prepared for this. A plane? How the hell was I supposed to handle this one?
Was it better to hide out and observe from a distance? Or, was it better walk right up to it? If we hid and observed, we risked the plane taking off before ever getting our answers. The hungry curiosity in everyone’s eyes made me believe they were all thinking the exact same thing I was.
This was a potential ticket off the island. We couldn’t stand around and hope to figure everything out from this far away.
“Come on,” Coin said, breaking the silence. “If it’s a private jet, it ain’t a drop, which means it’s probably some rich folks. Besides, we have weapons—”
“You’re right,” I cut her off. “Everyone, put your weapons down.”
They all stared at me as if I’d recently been released from a psychiatric unit.
“We don’t know who’s out there,” I added. “They could have a gun on them.”
Coin scoffed. “Yeah, they could, which is why we should have our weapons, too.”
“That’s my point,” I said. “If we walk out there looking like a bunch of savages—” I stopped myself and took a moment to study everyone. For the first time, I realized that was exactly what we looked like—savages. Our faces were covered in dirt and grime, our fingernails were black, most of us had scars or scabs on our bodies, our clothes were torn and stained in blood, and in our hands, we held weapons constructed of bone, wood, metal, and rope.
Had I seen this version of myself several years ago, I’d have likely lost consciousness.
We were primitive, and to anyone coming from the outside world, we would come off as feral, uncivilized women incapable of even speaking a word of English.
“If we look like a threat, we’re going to be treated like a threat,” I said.
Slowly, everyone unclipped their belts, slid off their bows and quivers, and lowered their weapons into the dirt.
Biggie threw her head sideways. “What’re we doing about him?”
Stepping toward a plane with a man tied around his wrists wouldn’t do us any favors, either. And it wasn’t like we could tie him up to a tree. The guy wasn’t dumb—no matter how strong of a knot we’d tie, he’d manage to get out of it. Furthermore, he’d then have access to our weapons.
“Cut his ropes.” My voice remained firm. “And keep your concealed weapons on you.” Pointing at Number 73, I added, “I’m in charge here. Do you understand? You don’t do anything unless I say you do. And don’t try anything funny, because I swear to God, I will kill you.”
With slanted eyebrows, he nodded and drew a cross over his chest.
Biggie raised her shirt and pulled out a short metal blade. He stared at the knife longer than I liked, but it didn’t feel malicious—it was as if he were inspecting the craftmanship.
In one quick motion, Biggie sliced her knife through his restraints. The second he was free, he rubbed at his irritated wrists and extended his fingers over and over, no doubt trying to regain blood flow.
“All right, let’s move,” I ordered.
A soft breeze swept over the ocean and toward us, making my short hairs wiggle on top of my head. After it had grown out, I’d allowed it to stay short—I’d never been a short hair type of girl, but what was the point of having long hair on this island? It was dirtier, messier, and way more difficult to manage.
“Whatever you do,” I said, turning around, “stay calm and smile.”
Everyone forced a smile, including Coin, whose lip twitched on one end as if being yanked by a fishing hook.
As I moved forward, I focused on the sand’s warmth around my toes.
It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.
Although I couldn’t see through the plane’s dark windows, I wondered if anyone was sitting inside. If there were people inside, were they watching us approach? And why were they here in the first place? Had it actually been an emergency landing? Were these innocent people who knew nothing about the island? Would they panic when they saw us coming?
It still didn’t make any sense to me. Everyone knew that Kormace Island was protected by the federal government—no unauthorized planes were allowed to come into contact with the island or even fly above it. The only way a plane landed on this island was in pieces or in a ball of fire.
Even the military helicopters—the ones used for drops—never touched down. That thought alone made my stomach feel tight and queasy.
As we moved closer, the plane felt much larger and grandiose than it had from a distance. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen a vehicle up close in person. The metal, clean and shiny, made it seem as though I was staring at some alien ship. Everything from the outside world felt like such a distant dream now.
“Hello?” I called out. “Is anyone here? Do you need help?”
I figured it was best to approach the situation speaking clean English, first and foremost, and by offering help. If the pilot and passengers weren’t aware that this was Kormace Island—the Island of Killers—it was far better to present ourselves as natives to the island rather than wait for them to figure out we were convicted felons.
“Hello?” I called out again.
Why wasn’t anyone answering? Was it possible that the pilot and the passengers had left the plane to venture off into the jungle? On the other side of the plane, a small ramp-like staircase floated next to the pilot’s window, though from where I was standing, I could only see the very bottom of it.
Was this the boarding staircase? It was open, which meant someone had gotten out.
Without saying a word, Number 73 cleared his throat and pointed at the sand around the plane.
Footprints.
It was difficult to tell in which direction they were going. They formed a chaotic mess around the plane as if a crowd had been dancing, and then several of them headed off toward the jungle. Why on Earth would anyone want to go into Kormace Island’s jungle?
Cautiously, I made my way around the plane and toward the open door holding two hands up by my face to show we had no ill intentions.
“Hello?” I tried again. “We’re here to help.”
My voice carried across the shore, making me feel infinitely small beside this jet. Placing a hand on the staircase’s cool railing, I gazed inside the darkness of the plane.
“Hello?”
Behind me, Coin moved slowly, her hand near her waist, prepared to pull out her knife if necessary. I looked back at her, then up into the airplane, and stepped on the first stair. It made the plane move slightly, but overall, everything felt sturdy.
I raised my knee, prepared to take another step when someone’s warm hand grabbed me by the ankle. I swung around so fast I nearly kicked Coin in the mouth. But the spooked looked on her face told me she hadn’t done it to be funny—something was clearly wrong.
“What is it?” I mouthed.
Her rounded eyes darted toward the jungle. She’d heard something, and it hadn’t come from inside the plane.
CHAPTER 12
Although dying to see inside the plane, I couldn’t ignore what Coin had heard.
“What was it?” I whispered.
Everyone huddled around us like football players, with Number 73 craning his neck to see inside the plane.
“Something’s on the other side. Over there.” Coin pointed through the plane as if we all possessed X-ray vision.
Number 73 brushed past me so roughly that I stumbled backward. “Fuck this. I ain’t lettin’ some noise stop me from headin’ home.” He grabbed the stair’s railing and pulled himself inside the plane in one jump, making the wings move from side to side.
“Hey!” I hissed, but he’d already disappeared into the darkness. “Bastard.”
“What’d you hear?” Rocket whispered.
“Someone’s out there,” Coin said.
Biggie swatted at a mosquito hovering by her face. “Yeah, and now they’re prolly wonderin’ why a bunch of crazies are tryin’ to get inside their plane. What’re we doin’, Brone? We can’t just sit here.”
Once again, everyone stared at me, waiting for a command to be given.
But before I could say anything, a loud rumbling exploded in the air around us, and the plane’s propellers started spinning.
“What the hell is he doing?” Coin snapped.
Without thinking it through, I pulled myself up into the plane and, quickly glancing sideways, noted it was empty of any passengers. I turned left and joined Number 73 inside the cockpit.
He sat in the pilot’s seat, his hands hovering over a bunch of lights and switches as if trying to play an arcade game.
“What the hell are you doing?” I snapped. “Do you have any idea how fucking dumb that was? Now they’re going to think we’re stealing their plane!”
My voice barely carried over the sound of the propellers. I was fuming inside. I’d specifically told him not to try anything, and there he was, revving up the plane’s engine.
He turned sideways, offered a dignified smile, and flipped on a switch. A high-pitched noise filled the space around me, and the plane’s dashboard lit up even more.
What was he doing? It was clear the engines were working, so what more did he need to know? Wasn’t that why he’d followed us here? To ensure the engines were running smoothly? Now that we had confirmation, why wasn’t he shutting them down? All of this noise was drawing unnecessary attention to us.
“Shut it off! You’re going to get us killed!” I shouted over the sound of the propellers.
“Sorry, can’t do that!” he shouted back. He slipped on a pair of green headphones and realigned the microphone near his jaw.
What was happening?
“You’re a moron!” I shouted.
Shaking his head, he tapped his headphone. “Noise cancelin’. Here.” He tossed me a matching headset and wiggled his finger as if to say, You got something to say, put it on.
This wasn’t happening. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it over the vibrations of the plane.
At once, Coin appeared beside me holding a knife at her waist, a hateful gaze aimed at the back of Number 73’s head.
I slipped on the headphones and brought the microphone up to my lips. “What’s your plan, smart guy?” My voice echoed in my ears and I flinched. “You gonna fly this thing? See how far you can make it before crashing into the ocean? This isn’t a car. You can’t flip a switch and hope for the best. Now shut off the fucking engines and get off the plane.”
When he didn’t listen, I pulled out my knife and pointed it at him.
He casually glanced at the knife but didn’t seem too bothered by the fact that I was threatening him. “Listen, I know this ain’t what you had in mind, but you don’t understand. I can’t leave my family behind. My girls need me. I gotta get back home to them.”
Grinding my teeth, I fought the urge to stab him in the throat. As much as I was prepared to kill him, I didn’t enjoy taking a life. I’d have much preferred to end this simply by threatening him.
“We all have families at home,” I said. “Not only are you going to get yourself killed, you’re also going to abandon innocent people on this island by taking their plane.”
What had I been thinking, bringing him along with us? What did I possibly think would happen? That we’d find the plane, make a deal with its passenge
rs, and find a way back home for all of my people?
The truth was, I’d been too blinded by the idea of getting off this island and by my curiosity to think this through. For years, I’d held on to the idea that one day, I’d return home. Deep down, however, I’d never believed it. In my mind, beneath the desperation and delusional hope, I always envisioned growing old on Kormace Island.
And then, a plane showed up, throwing me entirely off my game.
“Turn off the engine,” I said slowly, squeezing the blade of my knife. “You don’t even know how to fly a goddamn plane.”
“Listen, I’m sorry. I really am.”
He seemed genuinely sorry, and although at first, I couldn’t understand what he was apologizing for specifically, the way he stared at me with hard features and a thin line for lips, it became obvious—he did know how to fly a plane.
CHAPTER 13
The power was like nothing I’d ever felt before. The vibrations, deep and strong, tickled my feet. The sound, however, was what I found most intimidating. The helicopter that had dropped me off in the water had also felt powerful, but nothing like this.
Number 73 reached for some buttons, hesitated over a switch, and then hit another button.
Did he honestly know what he was doing?
And why couldn’t I move? Why wasn’t I stopping him? My knife felt hot against my palm, but I couldn’t bring myself to attack him. It was as if someone had nailed my feet to the airplane’s floor. I was so in awe at being on a plane, especially after all these years without any form of technology, that I couldn’t even speak.
Within seconds, we started moving. Slowly, I managed to move my head sideways to find Coin standing next to me, resembling a statue with flared nostrils, an open mouth, and a hand pressed firmly over her chest. Through the passenger windows on one side, Biggie, Rocket, and Elektra ran after us, their arms swaying over their heads.
On the other side, the only thing in sight was deep blue. The same scenery remained fixed through the front windshield; he was taking us into the ocean.
