Page 32

In fact, from my vantage point, it’s worse than I had imagined.

I squat on the opposite side of the meadow, soaking wet from the snow. The sun beams down on me, with blue skies soaring above, as I watch two survivors I barely recognize sitting by a fire.

Wild, hungry, and wind-burned.

Soulless.

It’s like winter sucked every ounce of life out of them and spat frozen zombies out the other side. It’s creepy as fuck watching them transfixed by the fire without blinking, staring at nothing but smoke and embers since the wood is too wet to burn. Unmoving in a way that’s not natural.

No hope exists here anymore—or anywhere. It will be a long, slow, agonizing descent for all of us now. This island is killing them, and soon, they will turn on each other. The sooner they realize that, the better.

The walk back here was treacherous, even for me. The spring melt made it worse than the trek on that cold winter night when I brought London away from here. My calf muscles are burning as I squat in place for nearly half an hour, watching them, not ready to make my presence known until I have eyes on everyone. I sit detached, suppressing the weight of my emotions pressing against me. I refuse to let them consume my mind.

It’s every man for himself now, and I honestly don’t give a damn about the people who helped my brother’s killer.

I notice Thomas first, based on his sheer size. He seems like he is doing just fine—physically, at least—as he rises and stalks across the field to what looks like their cooking site, set up in the middle of the meadow. He’s down about thirty pounds, his hair to his shoulders and his face covered by the hood of a New Ocean hockey sweater. I grimace when he turns and I get a good view of his missing hand, which was healing before I left him. I made sure of that.

Still, it pains me to see it. It reminds me of all the blood soaking into the ground around him and the agony he endured. The putrid stank of the puss that seeped out of his injury. London covered in it as I severed his wrist. It’s a memory I’d rather forget, so it was easier not to be around him.

Jade rises from her spot by the fire and follows him to the creek. The water is high, nearly cresting the bank from the snowmelt. She looks skinny, too, as to be expected.

Then James emerges from what used to be my shelter, looking strong and sturdy, his face all serious and shit.

Jade, Thomas, James.

Ollie, Nathan, and Serena are still not accounted for.

I scan the rest of the camp, finding their food covered by a tarp, and I have to say, I’m impressed they didn’t eat all of it. They have a bit left, but not nearly enough to last them more than a couple of weeks unless they can figure out how to sustain themselves solely on the land. The site itself seems well-organized and intact, though.

I make a mental note of how easy it would be to sneak in here and take everything. They must not realize that I am an enemy stalking them because I’ve been eying up that food for the last hour. London and I could survive out here for so much longer with only the crumbs they have left. They would be fine since the creek has plenty of fish, and I left them a small knife to make do with.

Plus, my shelter is well-insulated—they are alive because of it. They should be thanking me; I built it with the intent of surviving in it myself and used fabric from the airplane to shield it from the cold weather. And it was good enough for me, so it should be good enough for them.

You’re fucking welcome.

Serena finally follows James out of the shelter, and the four of them sit together now, engaged in conversation. Muffled voices carry across the meadow. I don’t want to make myself known until I have eyes on every person alive or, at the very least, their dead body. I can’t take any chances without knowing their headspace.

Desperate people do weird shit.

I also take note that Ezra and Naomi aren’t here, either, which doesn’t surprise me. After what Ezra did to Thomas, I can’t see them welcoming him with open arms. However, I am surprised Naomi is not here with Serena. Thinking of Naomi always triggers a subtle twinge of shame in me.

Fuck, I did that girl dirty.

I don’t hate her, despite London’s contempt for her. She’s the only person I am curious about other than London, although I’d never admit that to London because I know she’d castrate me.

A snap of twigs has me on full alert as Ollie slips out from the forest, a mere ten feet from where I’m hiding. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end because I didn’t even fucking see him and he could have stumbled right on me.

I have to be more careful.

I sink deeper into the shadows and continue watching. A few minutes pass, and they still don’t notice me. James and Serena are cuddled by the fire. I can’t really tell what state they are in, but they look healthy enough. James was always a tough little shit, so it’s unsurprising that he’s taken care of her.

Suddenly, I realize I’ve only seen Ollie. No sign of Nathan yet, and he’s never too far away from Ollie. Those two are stuck together like glue.

So, where the fuck is Nathan?

I watch them for about ten minutes until I am certain Nathan isn’t with them, and I then step forward just as Thomas and Jade step back to the fire.

Thomas sees me first and tilts his head in an unpleasant greeting.