Page 32 of Blue Arrow Island
My room key is still safely stashed inside my bra. I get it out, stumbling from the force of the wind. It’s hard to see, but I manage to get the key into the keyhole.
I swing the door open, my eyes scanning the dark room for Rona.
She’s not here.
I huff in aggravation. Of course she’s not here. Not getting electrocuted or shot with an arrow back at the waterfall are the only things that have gone right today.
I step inside, taking shelter while I think about it. She could be sheltering in someone else’s room. I don’t think she’d be looking for me, because she knew I was with Pax.
As much as I want to close the door behind me and strip off my soaking wet clothes, I can’t do it. I lock the door back up and head toward the stairs, cupping a hand over my eyes so I can see through the downpour.
It’s getting heavier. I hold on to the railing as I go down the stairs, knowing time is critical. Soon this hurricane will be uprooting trees and killing anyone who dares get in its way.
Several pieces of debris fly past; only luck helps me avoid them. I can hardly see anything.
Putting my head down, I splash through the water at a jog.
When I reach the kitchen, I find the main door unlocked. I step into the deserted room. The wooden window covers have been latched closed, the strong winds making them rattle.
“Rona?”
Running a hand over my hair, I sluice water to the floor.
“Is anyone here?” I call.
The kitchen is neat and clean, everything in its place. It looks like they had time to plan an evacuation. I go to the door that leads out to the meat prep area, a gust of wind taking hold of it as soon as I open it.
It takes all my strength to close it. Then I lean my back against it, wind from one of the shelter’s three open sides pelting my face. I don’t see Rona, and I don’t know where else to look.
I can’t just blindly search the camp. I have to go to the room and hope Rona is safe somewhere else.
The meat prep table is situated against the wall, and I glance over it out of habit. The table is enclosed on its ends with little wooden walls, so the meat on it isn’t gutting pummeled by the wind.
I guess they didn’t have time to finish cleaning the meat before evacuating. I’m so hungry I consider grabbing a piece of raw meat.
When I reach toward the table, my heart falls into my stomach. There’s a big toe lying there, the nail yellowed.
A human big toe. I recoil, gasping in horror. When I scan the entire table, I see three smaller toes, all severed from a foot. The “meat” on the table is unmistakably a human leg. A thin one.
My stomach pitches with a wave of nausea. I know the people here are starving, but this is beyond indecency. It’s gruesome and so fucking...cold. Humans are supposed to be better than this.
I shake my head, and the sight of another foot beneath the table catches my eye. This foot has a dark boot on it. I bend, terrified of what I’m going to find.
Rona is sitting under the table, her back to the wall and her knees pulled to her chest with her arms wrapped around them. Her eyes are empty, like her mind is somewhere her body isn’t.
“Rona?” I get to my knees, rain pelting the side of my face like a hundred tiny needles.
She just stares at me blankly. I’ve seen people like this before, sometimes after witnessing something traumatic. And unfortunately, I don’t have enough time to just wait for her to be ready to talk.
“Rona, we have to go. There’s a hurricane. It’s going to get worse.” I make sure she can see my hand as I slowly extend it to her. “Take my hand and we’ll go together.”
“Briar.” She says my name like it’s been a long time since we saw each other.
“Yes, it’s me. We need to go back to our room now. Right now.”
She sighs heavily, her shoulders sinking. “This isn’t a life.”
Shit. This is a really bad time for an existential crisis. “Listen to me, this is important. We have to get back to our room. Now, Rona. And then we can talk. I know it’s hard here, but you’re strong.”
