Islanders

by Brandon Enns

  "We had the dreams too, Skye. We had them too!"

  Her eyes softened as they looked into Erin's. Erin smiled back as she expected a “hey girl” to leave her lips, but her eyes went dark again. "I know you did. And they won't stop." The blade slid down, cutting into veins and arteries. Erin just stood there and watched it happen. Ashton jumped over the bed and ripped the knife from her hands. Blood was everywhere and Erin's knees went weak.

  Chapter Thirty-four - Stefan

  Stefan considered it a good sign that they wanted to leave. His shin bone hurt from the false trap—he didn't remember setting them up. He thought he had decided against that. He must have instructed Bruce to do it. Bruce had played his role flawlessly. He'd be paid a fair sum, though Stefan didn't believe money was that important to Bruce. Perhaps it would only be a modest sum. They had only discussed rough numbers.

  It was all a success, and it was clear that the potential was now a reality within his grasp, but there was just one problem. He was in love with Erin.

  Lying in bed, he let a fantasy run its course. They were showering together, the glass steamed, his hands on her hips behind her. He ran his fingers up her flat stomach, she arched her lower back. His left hand ran to the base of her collarbone and he kissed her neck. He tasted her skin as steam filled the room. Every sound she made was perfect.

  Stefan opened his eyes and there was someone standing at the foot of his bed. He scrambled back in his sheets. The shadowy man was...Arnie? He just stood there, not moving an inch as Stefan gathered his breath back. "Arnie? What the hell are you doing, man?"

  Stefan expected a goofy, toothy smile. Not so.

  "Arnie?"

  "Hey." His voice was quiet. "I needed to talk to you." He was monotone, robotic.

  "Well, I'm free now. Let's talk."

  "This is not the place."

  "What?"

  "I guess I just came to give you a heads-up."

  "A heads-up about what? I thought you took my boat back.”

  "No. The paramedic crew took it back. The ceremony. It's time."

  “Are you serious? I hardly know those people. Shit, Arnie. I trusted you with my boat. Who’s bringing it back tomorrow then?”

  “It will all be fine. They’ll return tomorrow. Just fine…”

  "Whatever. Take a bottle from the cellar and get out. I need to get some sleep, man; I'm exhausted." Stefan sunk back into his pillow. "Arnie?" No answer.

  He was clearly messing with him. "Arnie, get out of here." Stefan lifted his head off the pillow and he was gone. Stefan's throat was dry, and he was now bracing himself for something to pop out of the dark corners in his room. Nothing came.

  The minutes ticked on and with time, he was able to relax, convincing himself that it was very probable that Arnie was wasted.

  ***

  The sheets lifted and slid down his legs. Something was forcing him to sit up in bed. Something had full control of his body, and it wasn't him. His head was strategically turned with slow, agonizing suspense toward the clock down on the floor next to the bed. It was 2:59 a.m.

  Like insects hatching inside his brain at an incomprehensible rate, the message played over and over again: Stay a while. It pounded into him over and over again as his fists clenched and punched against the bed. His brain pressed against his skull as he yelled for it to stop, begging, pleading, just wishing it would end.

  Everything went still and quiet. He had control of his body again. Thank God, thank God. He climbed cautiously out of bed and made his way out into the hallway, only to be grabbed hold of the thing again. His joints were stiff, immovable. Then, it took charge, and he was walking. Up the stairs, through the living room, around the corner, out his back door. The warm air moisturized his skin. His feet were not in his control. They belonged to something much, much more powerful.

  He wanted to turn his head, to look toward the duplexes and call for help, but he had become a doll with strings attached.

  He walked through the trees. The night was silent. His feet became wet as his steps continued through the small channel of water. Hiking the ridges was painful. His bare feet were scratched and scraped as his arches curved around sharp corners and jagged rocks. His body stopped at the top, and his head was tilted toward the old cabin surrounded by trees, hardly visible even from that vantage point. He was forced to continue his trek down the backside of the rocks, carving up his feet even worse on the way down. When he reached the bottom, his hamster wheel was churning. What now? His bloodied feet touched wet sand and he was forced to lunge into the water.

  The swim was over an hour long. His arms and legs burned so badly that he was sure he'd drown. But the thing wouldn't let him drown. Small mouthfuls of salt water were forming every time his head dipped in, and he'd try to spit it out and breathe in all in the same motion, starting to choke now. His pace was slowed and he continued on.

  Stefan made it to land. He was thrown onto the beach where he was given permission to rest for only a couple minutes to catch his breath.

  The floors in the cabin were cold, and he could feel the blood from his feet cake up. He collapsed to the floor. Sebastian, Teresa, Cassidy, and Jhett were all standing with grimacing smiles, bitter and satisfied. There was an old chair in the middle and he was forced to sit. They smiled. Then it let go.

  "What is this?" His throat was still burning from the salt.

  Each of them was holding one of the four weapons that he had hid for his special game.

  "Thank you for conducting the trials. They were flawless. Very high notes of fear," Sebastian said, grinning.

  "What?"

  "We realize this is confusing for you. It always is for the owners. You're all the same, varying levels of enthusiasm. I was pleased to see that profitability was not your true desire. So much more, right, Stefan? So many others, they didn't stay long enough for us to begin."

  He tried to stand but was thrown back into his chair without a hand being laid on him.

  Someone else entered the cabin and moved forward through the shadows. It was Bruce.

  "Kid."

  Arnie followed in behind.

  "Bruce, what's going on?"

  "You were an integral part in delivering us the girl. You did well."

  "What are you freaks talking about?" He snickered but didn't believe in his own attempt at laughter. This was no joke. Whatever spell they had him under, it was real.

  "Tell me, how did you find this place?" asked Bruce.

  "I—" He hadn't found it on his own; he hadn't even done any research into investing in islands until he met Arnie in a bar on the mainland. It was a simple getaway involving women, drugs, and alcohol. Arnie had spoken of various islands, had told him about this one; that it was a massive bargain.

  "Arnie. What is this?"

  "Sorry. You were the man we'd been looking for. It took a while. Grandpa was getting on my case." He nodded toward Bruce.

  "Grandpa?"

  "I used to run recruitment and conduct trials here, but I need someone of the bloodline to carry on. To be ready for when my time comes." Bruce patted him on the shoulder. "We wanted you here, Stefan. Your beloved game, that's what we wanted. As Sebastian said, you performed better than the others. You took it to a new level. An effective level."

  Stefan was shaking his head. He tried to stand again, but his legs were rubber.

  "But the dreams, Stefan. The more nights they spend, the worse it gets. The reminder of the pain they had caused others, of the greed. You wanted a Royal Family, Stefan, because I gave you one. I told you the tale. And lucky you, you got to meet them. Well, here they are. Say hi."

  "This isn't real." I want to go home.

  "Sorry. That can't happen. You need to be here." Sebastian said.

  Cassidy blew a corrupt kiss his way.

  Bruce took a step back, knelt down, and analyzed Stefan's petrified face. "It's not personal. It's a process in need of management."

  "The— The—" His teeth were chattering, hi
s body vibrating, trying to reject his inevitable death. "Those graves…"

  "Yes, other travelers. Like I said, we only get buyers that are the right fit for us once in a while. Sometimes mistakes are made." He glared at Arnie. "Sometimes we aren't thorough enough. They just want to invest and spend no time here. Invite no one. That's no good for us. They need to kill just as much as they need to purify. The purification tastes sweeter, and lasts forever."

  "What?"

  "This guy isn't too bright, is he?" Jhett said with a childish chuckle.

  Bruce continued, "Erin. She's been absolved from her past, no longer stained by it. She's true. She's good."

  He didn't want to say the words, but he had to. "And me?"

  "Don't worry. We have a nice spot mapped out for you." Bruce nodded at the Royal Family, signaling them it was time for something to happen. "No, no, no, no. Wait! Wait! I can help. I can keep working for you. You need someone anyway!"

  Bruce looked intrigued, his big mouth tightening on the one side as he mulled it over. "You're a fine architect. But you wouldn't have the stomach for the kill."

  He paused and locked eyes with Sebastian.

  No, no, no.

  "May your past sins vanish with your soul." He looked at Sebastian. "William."

  "William?"

  William smiled. He looked at the others. "James, Anna, Mary."

  They all looked hungry, their appetites about to be satisfied.

  "You don't have to do this. I'll help you. I can take life. I can do it! I see now. I see what this is. It's amazing. It's wonderful. It's perfect. It's fucking perfect."

  Sebastian pivoted. The trident plunged into Stefan's stomach. His flesh tore and his blood spilled. The old revolver point his way and fired through his chest. He couldn't breathe. The shine of a steel dagger closed in on his neck. An appalling sting was followed by warmth as he choked on his own blood, throat wide open. Gagging on blood and disconnected arteries, knowing it was the end, wishing he was home, wishing it was all just a dream, his eyes lifted in time to see a hatchet blade rise and fall on his head, burying into his skull.

  The Royal Family stared at Stefan’s mangled body.

  Chapter Thirty-five - Erin

  Erin was covered in blood trying to isolate the artery, but it was difficult to see with all of the blood. Using water constantly to wash it away while Ashton kept pressure on her arm, Erin could see that her radial artery wasn't severed all the way through. Trevor had the first aid kit supplies laid out for her, but she didn't want to lose sight of it again. Her hands were now calm as she took control. It had been chaos when Skye was swinging her good arm around at them trying to get them to back off. Luckily, Ashton got a hold of her arm and detained her.

  Skye was faint and mumbling something, all of the color now gone from her face as the blood drained out of her. Even if I can repair it, she'll need blood.

  Delicate hands were an absolute requirement, though it would ensure no guarantee in the result. The artery had been clipped but not severed completely. She was lucky. Trevor handed her the needle and thread, held a flashlight, and poured water around the exposed artery while Ashton held onto her. He had been consoling her, but she passed out. His eyes lit up with worry, but Erin cut him off. "It's better she's out. Check her pulse though. Count the beats in ten seconds.”

  He put his finger under her neck. "Six!"

  "Shit."

  "Is that not good?"

  "How's the strength?"

  "I don't know. It didn't feel that strong."

  One deep breath. She asked for a splash of water and immediately followed in after it cleared some away. She fed the needle through the opening and brought it back through the other side that was intact. She pulled it snug and it appeared to hold. "Water again." The stitch was too bulky and she didn't trust it would hold, but one more and it may have been too aggressive, causing damage or constricting blood flow. It would have to do for now.

  "She needs a blood transfusion. The paramedics. Are they still here?"

  "I think they went back on Stefan's yacht."

  "We need supplies to give her blood. Stefan must have what we need at his place for security purposes, right?"

  Trevor didn't seem to agree.

  "I'm not so sure he knows what the hell this is, Trevor. He's a perfectionist though. He took this business all very seriously. He'd have what we need."

  Ashton was holding her, tears rolling down his face. "She'll be okay without it though, right?"

  She won't make the two-hour boat ride into land. "She's tough, but we still need to try, okay?"

  He nodded and held her hand gently, looking at her fingertips.

  "We need to keep her here. We can't risk opening that artery again. Lay her down on the bed." They did as such, and Erin finishing the job stitching up half the wound (to leave some opening if the artery reopened and she needed to work on it) and wrapped it with gauze, then bandages not too thick.

  "Ashton, you need to stay with her, keep her calm if she wakes up. Pin her down if you have. Sit on her chest, and keep her other arm away from the bad one." He wasn't hearing her. Erin slapped him in the cheek and it made a loud smack. "Ashton. Focus. She's not right in the head. You squash her if she tries anything. Trevor and I are leaving you to get supplies from Stefan's, and hopefully boat keys, but one thing at a time. Got it?"

  He nodded with understanding this time.

  "I need you to say it."

  He struggled for the words at first but managed to spit them out. "Got it."

  She turned to Trevor. "Take that knife she had."

  Erin rushed to the kitchen cupboard and grabbed another knife.

  She ran toward Stefan's bunker with Trevor at her heels. They used the front entrance and it was unlocked.

  They tiptoed inside, not wanting to wake up Stefan. She had seen what he was capable of, the cold manipulation, from a tender touch and loving eyes to malice. "Stay with me," she said to Trevor.

  They searched the closet near the back entrance for supplies. There was nothing but some of Stefan's clothing and shoes. They did a quick sweep of the kitchen, hoping to find something to work with under the sink, but to no avail. Next stop was downstairs. There was the laundry room that she hadn't really explored. She stepped onto the cool cement and in the corner, she found a much larger medical kit that was three times the size of the one they were working with back at the duplex. It had everything they needed.

  Then it came again. They both fell to their knees in agony as the island grabbed hold. Erin gritted her teeth and rose to her feet, pulling Trevor up. His hands were over his ears, his eyes squeezed shut. She hoisted him up and the high-pitched wailing continued in their minds. They staggered up the stairs and moved slowly through the living room. Her shoulder was throbbing from his weight as she shuffled them through the living room. She turned to the window and the Royal Family was there, staring at them.

  "Trevor," she hollered. "We need to make a run for the trees. We go north and loop around to Skye and Ashton."

  He shook his head. "We should split up. Better chances."

  Erin grabbed him by the collar, irate with his suggestion. "We go together.”

  Whatever she had done, it wore off again and they took over, sending wavelengths of needles through her skull. She let go of Trevor and asked if he could walk on his own and he staggered to the side, yelled monstrously, and took the lead without her help.

  They looped around, the pain easing, their footsteps increasing in speed as they came back through the trees, seeing their duplex up ahead. They charged out from the trees and straight for the front door, and then they appeared from thin air, blocking them from the door. Trevor stepped back with his knife cocked.

  Erin could taste ammonia in the air. Their eyes were all bloodshot, faces tense. Then their eyes cleared and smiles formed. The weight lifted off of her and she gasped as they let go of her mind. She and Trevor collapsed to the ground.

  "There's no sense helping
your friend. Everything has been written now."

  "Where is Stefan?"

  "Waiting for you."

  "Which is where?"

  Sebastian didn't take kindly to her insulting tone. "Choose your next words carefully, Erin. Remember you've been blessed with purity."

  "That's strange, because I've done some pretty impure things on this trip."

  "You mock us?" Cassidy glared at Erin. "I don't know what you see in this shrewd little thing." She turned to Trevor. "You could be with me."

  "Think of the ghost babies you two could have. Melts my heart."

  "That's enough!" Sebastian's voice boomed. His big hand was wrapped tightly around his rustic trident, ready to be thrown as a spear at the next provocation. "You will not ruin this. Tonight we will have rebirth and we will have death." His eyes flicked over to Trevor. "The pure one will join us. The beginning to a new army. To take back what was ours."

  "What are you taking back?" asked Trevor.

  Bruce walked up with a rifle in his hands. He lumbered with each step, his shoulders hunched. "Mainland? They're talking about Belize."

  "You're going to take Belize? There are over 300,000 people living there."

  "And those who are worthy will join us. Those who are not—won't."

  "You're crazy,” said Erin.

  She was no longer thinking about getting herself off the island; she was thinking about all of the people who were in danger.

  "That's why we've chosen you, Erin. Your selfless nature. Your passion. Your will to make right. To make good. You will help lead our legion. You will help so many find their redemption. They will have purpose again. Fewer will be lost than you’d imagine. That’s the kind of power you have. You, Erin."

  "No."

  "You'll see in due time that—"

  "No!"

  Sebastian snapped his head to the side in disgust. "To our site," he said to Bruce.

  Bruce started walking and Trevor was ready to jump him from behind.

  "What site?" asked Erin.