My imagination begins to conjure monstrous creatures with a multitude of eyes and mouths. Fangs dripping with venom and claws red with blood. I shiver as I stare at the dark forest, the creatures surely just beyond the edges of my vision.
“Don’t fret. You’ll be in the cave with us. Nothing can get to us down there. Not even pirates.” Coy’s attempts at reassurance fall flat, especially when I can see Tootles shaking as he glances this way and that.
“If Geo’s wrong, then it’s just the regular horrifying monsters that kill the Lost Boys?” I yank my arm forward when my shirt snags on a thorny vine, ripping a hole in it. “Shit!”
“You okay?” Coy’s already at my elbow and inspecting the tear.
“I’m fine. I shouldn’t have tried to pull away like that.” I frown at myself. It’s not as if I have another change of clothes. I should be more careful.
“Slightly can mend it. Don’t worry.”
We continue through the woods and up over the top of a rocky area that leads down to the sea cliffs. The breeze here is strong and whips my hair back from my face. I can smell the sea spray and hear the thundering waves. It really is a beautiful island.
We dip back into the woods as a light drizzle begins to fall. When we pass by a grove of gnarled trees, Nibs halts and stares at the ground.
“What is it?” I look at the same spot but see nothing except some dead leaves and small plants.
“The path moved.” He groans and adjusts his glasses. “The island is playing tricks again.”
“We know the cave is ahead. Let’s just skirt along the edge of the swamp to get home.” Coy stares off in the direction we’re heading.
“I hate the swamp.” Tootles wrinkles his nose.
“It’s not my favorite either, but if this rain keeps up, Moira will be soaked in no time. We should get inside.”
“I’m fine.” I don’t particularly want to get soaked through, but the idea of going through a swamp sounds even worse.
“Keep moving, Nibs. We’ll know we’re in the right place if we come to the swamp, and then we can decide how to go from there.” Coy speaks with authority, and I can tell he’s Peter’s second in command.
We keep trekking as the rain falls harder. A streak of lightning cuts through the sky over the sea to our left, and the booming thunder that follows makes me jump.
“Almost there,” Coy reassures me. “Keep going.”
A smell wafts to my nose, one even worse than the town’s scent of rotten fish. I put my hand to my nose. “What is that?”
Nibs and Tootles stop and peer around into the noisy darkness, the raindrops dampening sight and sound. But not smell.
Nibs changes course and heads up a gentle slope toward the sea.
“Nibs! We don’t have time for this. The storm’s almost on us!” Coy bellows.
Nibs doesn’t stop, so we follow him, the soggy ground clinging to my shoes as we climb. The smell gets stronger, and I press the fabric of my shirt over my nose.
“Moira.” Coy grips my shoulder and pulls me to a stop. “I think you should stay here.” He keeps me in place as Slightly walks past us.
“No.” I’m not going to be left behind. Not when I have no clue what’s lurking in the trees.
His face is strained, his gaze on Nibs who’s forging ahead despite the rain and lightning. “Nibs, we have to get Moira to the cave!”
Nibs makes it to the top of the small rise, his figure in dark relief against the sea. Tootles follows, and they both stand and look at a tree to their left.
“What’s that?” I take a few more steps before Coy’s hold on my arm stops me.
“Moira, don’t look.” He steps in front of me, but not before I see what’s hanging from the tree limbs. Two bodies.
“It’s Turley and Chas!” Slightly calls.
“Oh my god.” I blink against the rain, my mind spinning. “Who is that? Who did that?”
