Page 120 of Blue Arrow Island
Help me.
Something thick and coiled drops down from a tree branch above me. I jolt, thinking it’s a snake, but it slithers through the air, not hitting the ground.
It’s a vine, and it’s not the only one. Vibrant green vines in a variety of thicknesses are all moving swiftly toward the jaguar. The one from the tree reaches the cat and crawls onto its back.
The animal turns and retreats, racing toward the jungle. As soon as it’s gone, I breathe again and the vines slither back the way they came, gone as quickly as they arrived. The one from the tree lightly brushes my upper arm as it goes, the touch almost ... affectionate.
“Briar, you okay?” Marcus calls.
I jog back to him, his eyes widening when he sees my face. His hand goes to the gun on his hip.
“What happened?”
“Vines.” I swallow hard, still not believing what just happened. “There was a jaguar, and I was afraid it was going to kill me.”
His eyes bulge, his gaze darting behind me. “What the fuck? Why didn’t you yell for me?”
I lower my brows. “I kind of did, but forget that. Vines came out from all over and they were going for the jaguar. They scared it off.”
He runs a hand through his hair, scanning our surroundings. “You’re sure it’s gone?”
“Yeah, but more importantly—what the fuck was that? It’s the second time vines have protected me. How is that even possible?”
He shrugs. “People and animals aren’t the only experiments on this island.”
My pulse races as realization sets in. “Are you sayingplantshave been injected with aromium too?”
He nods. I haven’t even processed my shock yet when his arm shoots out and he moves me behind him.
“Something just moved on the beach,” he whispers.
Not the jaguar again. I groan inwardly. We’ve been lucky to not have confrontations with predators so far, but luck always runs out.
Marcus gestures for me to stay behind him as he creeps toward the beach, machete in hand. We didn’t bring stun sticks because they’re cumbersome, but right now I wish I had one.
I draw my handgun, leaving the safety on, scanning our surroundings as Marcus keeps his gaze ahead.
When he has a clear view of the beach, his shoulders drop with relief. “It’s Flavius.”
I lower my gun. When we step onto the fine ivory grains of beach sand, Flavius is sitting midway down the shore, looking at us.
As we get closer, he walks farther down the beach. Marcus follows, both of us constantly checking the area around us for any movement. Normally, I’d marvel at the pink-and-orange sunset over the ocean, but I can’t afford the distraction.
“We’re too exposed here,” I murmur. “I don’t like it.”
“Let’s move faster.”
We don’t have to worry about walking quietly out here; the wet sand makes for quiet footfalls. Flavius looks over his shoulder, making sure we’re still following.
The melee on the beach the day I arrived here is still fresh in my mind. I’m imagining an arrow from a concealed archer hitting Marcus in the chest, my heart racing faster with every step we take.
“I don’t like this,” I repeat.
He glances back at me, nodding at the ground beside us. “Look.”
I’ve been looking everywhere but down, and when I do, my jaw drops. There are footprints in the sand a few feet away, leading in the direction we’re walking. Flavius’s large paw prints are visible right beside the footprints.
Marcus is moving faster now, almost at a jog. I manage to keep up, but it’s hard to scan our surroundings thoroughly at this pace.
