Page 28 of Blue Arrow Island
He shrinks back, another four joining the first one to hold him in place. He screams, the sound cut short when Virginia swiftly runs her knife across his throat.
I’ve seen a lot of violence and death since the virus came, but I still feel the same horror every time. We didn’t unite to rebuild after most of the planet’s population was wiped out without warning; instead, those of us who remain are killing each other.
It’s disappointing, but not at all surprising.
Of all the ways I’ve seen people die since the virus came, I think beheadings are the worst. It’s horrible watching someone’shead get lopped off their shoulders. A head without a body is a shocking sight, as is a body without a head.
But seeing that guy Rodriguez go from eating breakfast to no longer having a face in less than a minute was a violent wake-up call for me. If I’m going to get through this, I have to be smart. Careful.
“Watch it.” Pax grabs my elbow and pulls me back a couple of steps.
“What did I do?”
“You were about to step on a scorpion.”
I look back, finding a dark-brown scorpion that blends in perfectly with the forest floor. It has a venomous stinger, and though I have my pants tucked into my boots Rising Tide style, I wouldn’t have wanted to risk a sting.
Pax is taking me on a long trek through the island’s jungle to search for edible plants. I’ve already put three samples in the woven reed basket he’s carrying on his back.
We’re taking one of the paths Rising Tide’s hunters use. It’s washed out in places and it requires walking single file.
It feels like we’ve been heading away from camp for around three hours. My clothes are soaked completely through with sweat—not the best look for a woman in a white T-shirt.
I’m curious how big this island is. Based on the scarcity of game, I assumed it was fairly small. Now, I suspect it’s just been so heavily hunted that there isn’t much left.
The dull thunk of raindrops on the canopy far above us signals the start of an afternoon rain shower. They’re usually fast, furious and short. Only a few stray drops make it to us; the rest are stopped by the dense tree ceiling.
Pax turns and calls to me over his shoulder. “This kind of ruins my surprise, but hopefully you’ll still like it.”
The thick jungle opens up, revealing the source of the dull roar I’ve heard in the background for the past fifteen minutesor so. A towering waterfall, about four stories tall, gushes into a crystal clear spring at its base. Even as the rainfall intensifies, I stare at the waterfall with awe.
It’s spectacular. The first beautiful thing I’ve seen in this tropical hell. My throat tightens as I think of my mom. This is one of those moments that sustains me in a world without her. Everything is connected, like she said, and the part of her that loved nature will always be with me.
I open my arms and look up to the sky, the waterfall’s spray and the rain washing over me. This island is like a rose, and all I’ve seen until now are the ugly, prickly thorns. The waterfall is the velvet-soft, bright pink flower I get to inhale the sweet scent of now.
The children I saw yesterday should be playing here, splashing and swimming and laughing. I wonder if they even could if they were brought here. I need to believe it’s at least possible.
The rainfall lightens. At the edge of the spring, a trailing vine with a yellow flower grows, and I bend to examine it.
A splashing sound makes me look up. Pax is knee-deep in the spring, wearing nothing but a grin.
“Come on in. It feels amazing.”
By his loaded tone, I know he’s not just talking about the water. My quick glance at his naked body makes a needy ache bloom between my thighs. I want to strip my clothes off and go to him, my breasts heavy, sensitive and desperate for his touch.
I close my eyes. Where is this coming from? I don’t find it sexy that he brought me here and got naked when I wasn’t expecting anything like this. Even if I wanted to have sex with him—which I don’t—I can’t risk getting pregnant.
Having babies is natural. It would make him so happy.
The thoughts popped into my head unbidden, making me gasp and grasp my forehead. How did that happen? Did Pax put those thoughts in my head?
I know it’s impossible, but my gaze goes to him anyway. His eyes are molten, hunger written all over his face as he palms his erection and strokes himself.
“Don’t fight it, Briar. You want this, too.”
The ache between my thighs intensifies. I do want it, but I also don’t. My mind is fighting itself.
It would be nice to just feel good for a few minutes. To not worry about anything else.
