Page 46 of Dance Practice, Marooned: Part 2

This poor girl. She does not deserve the life she has been given.

“Anyone tries to do any of those things to you again,” Zeke growls in a tone so low, and so menacing it makes me shiver, “we will fucking kill them where they stand.”

I look at Aggie, and her face is carved out of stone. I know exactly what she’s thinking—how this could have been any of us, if we weren’t lucky, or if we’d drawn a different card. How some people just rot you from the inside out.

“I don’t remember my family,” she whispers. “I don’t even know if Kaylee is my real name.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I promise her, and by God do I mean it. “But for now, we have to leave this island. We want to take you with us, if you’ll let us. If you’re scared, we’ll protect you. But we won’t force you, we aren’t those people, the choice is yours.”

“You really think we can go home?” she asks, barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” I answer. “But we’ll try.”

A long pause.

“Okay.”

I could scream with delight, but I keep it to myself.

“It’s settled then,” Ace says. “You girls head back to the ship, we are going to clean up here. In the morning, we will come up with a plan to get the hell off this island.”

I reach out, extending my hand to Kaylee. She hesitates but eventually steps forward and takes it. I curl mine around hers, and don’t miss just how thin and frail she is. This poor girl hasn’t had a chance, but we’re here now to give her one. I squeeze, gently, and then we begin walking back towards the ship.

By the time we get back to the ship, my shoulder is a throbbing mess and I’m so tired I could sleep standing up, but I don’t dare let go of Kaylee’s hand. Through the trees, the battered ship looms against the moon, and for the first time since all this began, I swear it actually looks like home.

That is terrifying, but very, very real.

Tati’s perched on the front with a rifle in her arms, looking like some kind of tiny, bloodthirsty Valkyrie. Adrian sits beside her, his bad leg raised on a crate. When Tati sees us coming through the trees, she lets out a sharp whoop and waves the rifle in the air. Rachel huffs out a laugh, and even Kellen cracks a ragged, tired smile.

“You’re alive,” Tati shouts, and for a second it feels like we actually did something good.

Kaylee flinches at the sudden noise on the deck, but I keep my grip steady, and she stays with me even as we climb the ladder onto the deck. Tati is beside us in a matter of seconds, eyes wide, taking in our new companion. “Who’s this?”

“This is Kaylee,” I say, doing my best to keep my voice gentle. “She’s with us now. She’s... had a hell of a time.”

Tati studies her for barely a second before nodding, her smile warm. “Are you hungry?”

Kaylee blinks, as if she has never been asked such a simple question.

“Oh,” she whispers, shaking her head. “No, I’m not allow....”

She cuts herself off.

The pirates are gone now, but her habits remain firmly fixed inside her.

“Don’t you worry about what you’re allowed or not allowed to do,” Tati says. “Because starting right now, you do whatever you want.”

I could swear I see relief flood Kaylee’s face for a second before she looks down and gives a tiny nod. Tati carefully extends a hand, and Kaylee takes it. They disappear towards the kitchen. I can’t help but smile; maybe one good thing will come out of this hellish ordeal. Aggie sits down on the nearest crate and stretches her legs out, just staring at the deck like she can’t believe we made it. Rachel and Zeke are looking around, no doubt trying to find a clean place to sleep.

I go below deck for the med kit to patch up anyone that might need it, and by the time I return, Ace is on the deck with Kellen, talking in low voices about whatever needs to be done next. Kaylee sits against the side, knees up, picking at the lock of her can with a knife. Tati lounges beside her, showing her how to flip the blade open and closed without cutting herself. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Tati has already adopted her.

Ace comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, chin heavy on my shoulder. “Hell of a night,” he says, voice rough with exhaustion.

“We’re not dead,” I say, leaning into him. “That counts for something.”

He holds me for a long time, like he’s afraid to let go, and I let him, because I’m afraid, too. But it’s a different kind of fear than before—less about dying, more about what comes next, about actually having to make a future out of this mess. But, this is the first time since we got stuck on this island, that I think there is a real chance we will make it out alive.

All of us.