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On the wrong side of the island.
Because of some stupid storm.
Kill the weatherman.
4
CALLIE
It’s windy outside.The girl who introduced herself as Maddy brings us clothes and kicks the rest of the people out of the room. Some glare at us, others smile and stare in disbelief as they file out of the room, leaving just the three of us and the girl.
It’s some type of a cabana with a tarp wrapped around it on three sides. There is no door, and I see glimpses of the lamps as they disperse into the darkness.
“Bo said we will have a meeting tomorrow and discuss what happens next,” Maddy explains.
She has brown hair loosely tied into a bun on top of her head. Soft features. Big lips. Soothing low voice and a heavy tan.
I like her already. She studies the three of us with care and too-obvious curiosity. She is eager to help, and there is a motherly feel in her gestures, like she is in charge here.
Katura strips in seconds and changes into a pair of blue shorts and a black t-shirt.
“We need to be on the Westside,” she says business-like and flops onto one of the mattresses that are our beds for the night. She acts like a travel agent messed up her schedule, and she expects it to be fixed any minute. She looks up at Maddy. “You have a joint?”
Maddy studies her curiously for a moment, then smiles but without much cheerfulness when she says, “Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
It’s only me, Katura, and another girl, short and skinny and with a scared gaze.
“What about the rest from the boat?” I ask meekly, in hopes that someone knows what happened to them.
The question hangs in the air unanswered, and I have a nasty feeling in the pit of my stomach at the thought that we might be the only survivors.
I am queasy and exhausted. Everything sounds muffled. There is water in my ears, and the inside of my nose burns from inhaled salty water. Salt is on my lips and in my hair. It coats my dry skin.
A guy brings us water in tin sports bottles with a logo that says,Pura Vida. Welcome to paradise, and I drink until the water starts trickling down my chin.
“Owen will be outside all night, so if you need anything, ask him,” says Maddy.
“Why is he outside?” Katura snorts.
“For protection.”
“From who?”
But Maddy doesn’t answer, smiles warmly at me and the other girl, and walks out.
There is much to be learned about this island.
The third girl is tiny and the same age as me. Dani—I remember her name from the Transfer Center. She is too quiet and looks like she’s been holding back tears for some time. She sits motionless in the center of the room and stares down at the floor.
“What a clusterfuck,” Katura says, exhaling loudly. “We are lucky we survived.”
Her words sink in as I finally rise from the floor, my body like jelly. I nudge Dani to get up and walk her to one of the mattresses. I will share the second one with Katura. I pick another pair of shorts and a t-shirt and hand it to the girl, then change out of my wet clothes, my every muscle aching.
Lucky, indeed.
The events of the past hour are a nightmare. But it all takes a backstage as I can’t stop thinking about Kai Droga.
How did this happen?
