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IF - Chapter 16
🕑 Added 2024-12-22 01:13:10 +0000 UTC------------------
Isla grimaced as her boots dipped into the water, pushing the rowboat into the sea. Hopping inside, she stabilized herself before looking back at the sandy beach; James lay amongst the goods they’d brought to shore. Her fingers curled into a fist.
Dammit. Hollow abandoned us for his mountain cave. If that wasn’t enough, our doctor got infected…and may not even be human to begin with. Then again, I’m not sure if I’m entirely human…
Stomach tightening, she moved to the middle and took up a position to row. All those questions can be asked when we’re back. Right now, I just need to focus on getting us back alive… But is it really okay to leave her?
Staring at the jungle as she dipped the oars into the still sea and pulled, Isla repeated Her words. Have faith. Hollow abandoned us because he had no faith. I can’t let fear pull me under.
Her eyes narrowed to steel as she renewed her constant, firm strokes, repeating one of the few things Hollow said that did resonate with her. When the monster crawls out of the sea, they’re going to need somebody like us. When the lines get a little blurry, they need somebody like us. Press on, Isla! She’ll find her way back.
The world felt too still while gliding across the glass-like ocean. It was as if there weren’t even resistance, making it far easier than she thought. The gentle crashing of waves on the shore had dulled to a distant hum, like the world had stuffed cotton into its ears.
Isla paced her breaths with each row, her muscles aching from the drag she’d just endured more than the trip to the boat. Her fingers flexed unconsciously, the memory of James’s dead weight still fresh on her skin, of the look on Maeva’s face when she began to transform.
She pulled.
James’ face flashed across her sharp memory, laying slumped against the smooth face of a weathered boulder, his face pale, lips dry. His head lolled slightly to one side, a faint rise and fall in his chest the only sign of life. Blood stained the side of his temple, matted into his hair, the dark red stark against his otherwise colorless skin.
She pulled.
“Breathe. Count. Anchor yourself.” Her voice was as steady as the motionless tide, pressing into Isla’s mind like a soft push between her shoulder blades.
One, two, three…
Her eyes flicked to the sea’s horizon. The distant shape of the ship bobbed against the waves, getting closer with every swell. The boat’s engine hummed, a mechanical buzz undercutting the natural world’s steady churn. Brigid’s orange jacket came into view. Kael’s frame was behind her, watching her draw near.
“Alright,” Isla muttered, working out her joints, stiff from overuse. She glanced toward James on the beach, still not moving, but at least no orange aliens. “Just a bit more.”
The tide lapped against the boat on her approach in slow, steady breaths; it was stronger than the rowboat, as if the mass dictated the strength that pulled the ocean toward it. Pulling up beside the ladder, she caught the rope Kael threw down to her. The moment her hands closed around it, she felt grounded.
I’m not alone… I suppose I’ve never been. Thank you, my other me.
“What’s going on?” Kael asked, jumping down first and handing her the other first aid pack. “The static was so bad we could hardly hear you… Did something happen to James?”
“Yeah! Where’s that lazy ass, Hollow? You said something about Maeva being in the jungle, too?”
“Yeah,” Isla sighed, showing a strained smile and keeping more secrets by the hour. She motioned for him to take the other side. “Grab the oar and help me back. James is down. He’s breathing, but probably broke a rib and hit his head really hard.” Her gaze flicked to him. “He’s not moving much.”
“Shit.” Brigid quickly settled in as Kael’s brow set, and he pushed them away from the boat. “What about Maeva? She’s the doctor.”
Taking the opposite side of the oars, Isla was about to respond when she got a closer inspection of the pair, making her pause. “Did you two…dive into the ocean to get that case?”
Brigid shrunk under her gaze, sliding her damp bangs behind her ear and looking at the engineer. “I mean, I said it was kind of crazy—the crane got stuck, a-and so we needed to investigate. It wasn’t super deep, but it did feel kind of long while we were down there. It was kind of…magical.”
Kael forced a smile. “It was my idea. Skinny dipping to figure it out. The water was just so… I can’t even describe it,” he mumbled, searching for the words. “Like…we were a part of something…something.”
“Bigger!” Brigid jumped in, with a grin she shouldn’t be showing in this kind of situation. “Like we were sort of…connected,” she blurted out, cheeks flushing and looking away soon after. “It made me care less about the insanity of this place. Sort of like…how I see you act, Captain. Are you…mad?”
Dammit, you two! Trying to remain calm with every member of her team now being involved in something sketchy, not that she was any different, Isla let the news sink in.
“Skinny dipping in alien waters, with plants that eat immortal fish and an ocean with no waves. Naaa. I’m not mad,” she sighed, beginning to row toward the shore with Kael. “I’m just worried about James… Is there anything else you two want to tell me?” she pressed, glaring the redhead down since she was easier to break. “You two aren’t some secret creatures, right… Right?”
Brigid swiftly shook her head, ponytail whipping behind her. “Nope! Uh, no monster or secrets here, Cap! Sorry to make you worry. We…got the data, though!” she said with a stressed smile, lifting it up.
Moving her suspicious eyes to Kael to her right, the man didn’t laugh like Brigid. His eyes grew distant, and he mumbled, “I…had a dream during The Fog, where I was watching myself—it was weird,” he admitted, shivering as he matched her strokes. “Like I was something else, looking at me swimming down.”
“But there wasn’t anything in the water!” Brigid interjected. “No way I’d do it if it was. It just…it was all sand—black sand.”
“Which isn’t concerning at all, looking back,” Kael said with a groan. “It’s almost like someone gift-wrapped it for us to get. I was so light-headed…”
I bet you were with where your blood was, Isla internally grunted. Brigid is so pent-up after three years, I can’t blame her for wanting to feel a little flame… And guys lose their brains, literally, when a pretty redhead shows a little skin.
“I’m sorry, Brigid,” he whispered, eyes downcast. “I didn’t even remember that until we jumped in. Now…I’d be devastated if something I pushed hurt you.”
The technician’s eyes grew big, heart no doubt melting at the big brown-eyed stare he gave her. And, all things considering, their experience was the least worrying compared to the level of BS she’d been dealing with.
“Well, alright. Let’s go tend to James. As for Hollow and Maeva… Hold onto your pants for this one…”
Explaining the details on the way back to tend to the military man, the pair didn’t interrupt much as they checked him out. Of course, she left out the transformation likely not being a part of the bug bites. They got to work while processing it all. Brigid crouched beside James, muttering quiet observations as she checked his pulse and lifted his eyelid.
Once things had calmed down and they had James as comfortable as he could be, Kael kneeled beside the cot they’d extended and wrapped him in. He glanced off toward the dense, deathly silent jungle.
“So… Maeva—4'11" Samoan doctor lady—turned into a female Tarzan, slapped the shit out of a 6'5" man that’s built like a tank, and took off like a wild animal…because of a bug bite. We’ve got creepy orange alien zombies that came out of an airplane that was deep-throated by Cthulhu, now prowling the jungle because…a unicorn turned them to burnt chicken. And… Hollow’s an asshole and ditched us… Damn.”
“Yeah, damn,” Brigid mumbled, studying the jungle line like it was a coiling snake, “I’d probably ditch us if all that happened… Ahem.” She smoothed out her hair, taking a deep breath. “I don’t want to sound like a bitch, but…is there really anything we can do for Maeva? If she can do that to James, then she’d literally fold me like paper. And you couldn’t get through to her, Isla?”
She shook her head, moving to extract the memory chips in all the devices and abandon the bulky equipment. Isla’s hand paused when spotting Hollow’s tablet left beside his unfolded chair. “Umm. No. Not really, but it would be best to leave a message. I’ll write it while you two get everything essential put in the boat. Sound good? We can ask Evelyn for a rescue crew to come back.”
Kael slowly nodded, grimacing as he looked down at James. “He’s going to be pissed…but I don’t think we have any other option. This place is…a nightmare made real. Okay. Sounds good. Brigid?”
“Hmm?” She blinked, looking a tad distant as she stared off into the jungle. “Yeah, just—I thought I saw Maeva for a second… No, it’s my imagination.”
Isla looked off into the jungle, pulling in her bottom lip and reflecting on how the dark-haired woman had reacted. If she can’t change back due to whatever reaction she had to the bugs… She’s probably freaking out, and I don’t blame her.
Breathing in sharply, she released it with a reassuring smile, taking on the role of a positive leader. A role Eve had literally told her she sort of was supposed to be. Once again, that devil somehow seemed to know everything.
“Don’t sweat it, Brigid. Trust in Maeva. Get those to the rowboat and get James on it. I’ll be back soon.”
“Wha—do you see these wimpy arms?” Brigid balked, pointing at them. “No way I can help Kael lift him into a boat. And where are you going?!”
“Right, right,” Isla called back, taking a portable, light-weight case with her, a notepad, and a pencil. “Do what you two can. Guns are there. Oh—let me snatch one of those pistols…maybe two,” she muttered, tucking it into the back of her pants before picking up the items again. “I need to check something out.”
“Okay?” Kael whispered, watching to leave. “We’re leaving as soon as you get back?”
“We are.” Her voice didn’t waver. “And the fish?”
“Especially the fish! We need to compare it to the other one.”
“Uh-huh… You did say there was another one,” he hissed. “I just…don’t know how James even picked that thing up. Damn, this is going to be a pain.”
What am I doing… Why am I so calm? Behind her, she felt Her protecting wings, filling her with confidence and allowing her to move without hesitation. Why do I feel drawn this way? I can feel you holding my hand and nudging me.
The gentle, motherly voice filled her soul, sounding as if she walked beside her, matching every footstep. “It may feel as if this is too big of a risk. Faith comes with tribulation and trials, little bird. And what may feel like a curse is often a blessing in disguise. You wanted answers. Not like Hollow seeks but what comes naturally due to sacrifice and long suffering…”
Her final words came as softly as a silk blanket folded around a toddler’s smooth skin. “Do you have faith in me… In Us?”
A small smile lifted Isla’s lips, her stride increasing. Yes.
She left the line of sight from Kael and Brigid, stopping beside the pack Maeva had abandoned… It was gone, and she knelt down to study the trail that had been left in the dirt. Running her fingers over it, she breathed in and let the air go while scanning the gentle sway of the jungle, a low mist clinging to its interior—not The Fog.
Something long that dragged its way to the pack and brought it back… Handprints, deep…struggling. Don’t tell me… Looking up at the foliage, she felt her heart go out to Maeva. Are you some kind of mermaid or siren that can’t take on human form now due to the bug bites? Damn. You must be so scared and desperate…
Dear Maeva,
I’m writing this in case you come back and we’re already gone. I’d wait if I could, but James’s condition won’t let me stay. We’re heading for medical help, and I’ll make sure Director Evelyn knows to send someone back for you.
First off—you’re not alone. Not now. Not ever. I’m not mad at you for what happened with James. I’m not afraid of you, either. I’m not going to pretend I’m thrilled you’re out here on your own, but I know you’re strong. Stronger than I’ve seen in anyone for a long time. Probably stronger than anyone I know, literally. And I’m not just talking about what’s on the outside.
It takes a lot of courage to do what you did. I don’t think it was malicious. Whatever’s happening to you—whatever’s changing—it doesn’t change who you are to me. Not the changes, not whatever’s under your skin right now. Whatever you are. You are you. The person who’d run into danger to help someone who’s hurt. A doctor.
I’m not blind to what’s going on. You’re scared, maybe even furious with yourself. I’ve been there. I’ve had moments where I’m afraid of my own reflection… I’ve been dealing with my own stuff here. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned—thanks to someone who’s far too patient with me—it’s this: fear’s just another trial. You’re going to get through it, Maeva, because that’s what you do.
You’re not broken. You’re not lost. If you’re scared of hurting us, then let me tell you right now: you didn’t lose control. You’re still in control. I may not know you well, Maeva. But I know you’d rather break yourself than hurt someone else. You’re going to get back on your feet, and when you do, we’ll be waiting.
I’m leaving some supplies with this message—what I can spare. James’ shirt and wristband. I’m sure he’d like you to carry something of his with you… You’re not a monster.
Most of all, I’m leaving this letter. Words matter, Maeva. They’re the closest thing I’ve got to being here with you when I’m not. If you’re reading this, it means you’re alive. And that’s everything. Breathe. Rest if you can. Then get back up.
We’re not giving up on you. I’m not giving up on you. You’re a part of this crew, and that doesn’t change just because things got hard. Hollow’s gone… Careful of him if you see him. But I’m not like him. I’m not running. I’ll be coming back for you. So come back to us.
I’ll see you again, no matter how long it takes. I’ll make sure of it. We’re not whole without you.
With faith in you,
—Isla
Sliding it into one of the empty water bottles, she set it beside the items she dropped off, including one of the pistols with a clip, just in case. Be safe, Maeva.
Turning her attention to the distant plane, a shiver ran down her frame when noticing not a single orange alien corpse was left, blackened or not. She walked through the beach toward the flying craft, eyes low.
No bodies. No Maeva. Not even the charred remains of the orange-skinned aliens. Did the island soak them into itself?
They were gone—not moved, not dragged—just gone, like they’d never existed at all. Not even a smear of ash. She checked the plane—a hollow, echoing shell.
Her boots thudded softly against the metal floor, the sound swallowed by the dense, oppressive quiet inside. Her breath felt too loud, every inhale a rasp that scratched at her nerves. Shadows from the high windows stretched long and crooked, bending across the worn seats and scuffed walls like twisted fingers. Her heart didn’t drum in her chest, though. No fear touched her, and it felt…liberating.
Her eyes flicked toward the emergency exit where James had gunned them down the first ones. No blood. No tracks. Nothing. Her gaze darted to the windows, scanning for reflections, for movement, for anything that could explain what these things were.
Nothing but her own reflection, staring back at her, a smile coming from Her, encouraging her to continue to investigate. She didn’t spend long on each row or seat, walking down the two lanes. Stepping toward the front of the plane, she entered the cockpit, its door hanging ajar, creaking with a faint metal whine as it swayed on its hinges. Still, she didn’t hesitate.
Isla reached out, her fingertips brushing the edge of the doorframe. Tugging it open, she scanned the interior. Empty. Pilot seats worn down with age—much of the plane looked brand new on the outside. Yet, inside, certain areas seemed as if years had passed while others were untouched by time.
Control panels flickered faintly with dim lights, as if still half-alive. No signs of struggle. No signs of use. It looked more like a showroom display than a wrecked plane. Her fingers brushed against the edge of the control console, and a thin film of dust came away on her gloves.
Her gaze snapped to the co-pilot’s seat, where something metallic caught the light—a reflection, small but distinct. She squatted, eyes narrowing as she reached down to grab it. A tablet. Sleek, still powered on but dimmed to low brightness. The pilot’s.
Her thumb wiped away a smear of dust, and the screen blinked to life. The lock screen had a date—a date from two days ago. Her brows furrowed as she glanced at the cockpit instruments. No emergency broadcast. No distress signal. Her mind buzzed with questions, each one gnawing at the next, but she wasn’t afraid.
Her grip on the tablet tightened, fingers pressing into the smooth surface. She stuffed it into her bag, taking whatever other digital items she could for Brigid to fiddle with. This was an investigation mission, after all, and she had to do something instead of just sitting around, waiting for James to wake—she had to feel busy.
After a single pass, she reached the plane’s exit. Isla turned back once, scanning every shadow, every twisted shape of bent metal and worn leather.
It looks like a normal airliner, but no paper. Everything seems digital.
Her gaze lingered on the rows of seats, her mind replaying every step she’d taken through this place. Something was wrong, and it wasn’t just the missing bodies. It wasn’t just the smell of copper and bleach. It was the silence.
She left the plane, sliding down the inflatable ramp on the other side. All that met her was the rise of massive cliffs that rose up from the beach, impassible without equipment. The salty air crashed against her skin like a cold wave. Her boots crunched into the sand with a familiar weight, each step grounding her again, bringing her back to the world that made sense—or close enough.
I guess that’s it. I’ve got everything Eve will want to give me the leverage to come back for Maeva… I have to have leverage with that devil. Let’s get back to camp and leave this hellhole. If we can just make it back once, then it proves this place isn’t a death trap.
Kael spotted her first, his hand lifting in an exhausted way after putting the fish tank into the rowboat. “Phew! This is way harder than James makes it look. Find anything good, Cap?” he called, voice light but watchful. “See Maeva…or Hollow?”
He really is taking Hollow leaving worse than I thought. I guess they were buddies, after all…or he thought they were.
Her eyes lingered on him for a moment, measuring his stance, his posture—looking for abnormalities. Nothing. She glanced over her shoulder, back at the rocks where she’d left the bottle. It was gone when she’d made her return.
Yeah, you’re watching, Maeva. Whatever you are. I know you’re scared to show yourself… Have a little faith in yourself, and us.
Letting out a slow breath through her nose, she shook her head. “Nope. Didn’t see Maeva. Just ghosts,” she muttered, brushing her gloves against her pants. “But I got what I came for.”
She pulled out the items as Brigid jogged over to them from James’ side, holding a machine gun that was far too big for the small woman, but it probably made her feel safe. Wagging the tablet in front of Brigid, she grinned.
“Had to get these off the plane and investigate a bit. There’s still more of them, but I could only get this many by myself,” she announced as the redhead reached them. “Those aliens aren’t all dead, so we should probably get ready to scram.”
Brigid’s face paled. “Wait, wait! And you went back in there, knowing that? Are you crazy?!”
“Have courage,” Isla chimed, playfully clapping Brigid’s shoulder. “You’re safe here with me and Kael—mostly. Trust!”
Kael’s chuckle was dry as he looked up, and they all saw it—The Fog—rolling in from the sea, sneaking up on them from nowhere. “Trust, huh?”
A sharp, rasping cough tore through the air, dragging Isla’s attention back to James. His eyes blinked slowly, unfocused, the haze of semi-consciousness still clinging to him like seaweed. His face scrunched in pain as he turned his head, sucking in a shallow, wheezing breath.
“Where—Maeva…”
“James,” Isla breathed, jogging over to crouch beside him, her fingers pressing lightly against his temple, checking for swelling or tenderness. “Hey, stay with me. Look at me. Can you hear me? We got into some trouble.”
His gaze flicked toward her, distant but aware the moment she said the T word. His lips moved without sound before he croaked, “…Cap? Where’s my shirt? Those bruises—no, broken ribs,” he winced. “Where’s Maeva?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s me,” she said quickly, leaning in closer. Her hand hovered over his cheek, not quite touching, but close enough that he’d know she was there. “Don’t move too much. Maeva is going to be okay. But you took a nasty hit. You’re safe now, alright? We’ve got you.”
He let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-cough. “Safe…heh… You’re something else, Captain. Am I seeing The Fog?”
“Positive,” she insisted, glancing up at Kael and Brigid while taking out the sleeping pills. “You have your own after the last time, right?”
They all nodded, faces pale as Brigid squeaked, “I didn’t even think what might happen if The Fog showed up when we were skinny dipping… Taking it!”
Not drifting. Not rolling in like natural mist. It was crawling—low to the ground, slow and deliberate. Thick, gray tendrils unfurled from the sea, spreading in uneven paths across the sand like fingers stretching out to claim the beach. The waves that once hummed softly had dulled to a muffled hush, like the world had stuffed its ears with cotton.
“Stay calm,” Isla reassured, pulling out the small container from her back pocket and flipping it open. Her fingers moved with calm, methodical precision, popping the small capsules free with a sharp snap. “You know what to do.”
Brigid’s eyes flicked to the dense clouds circling them, then to Isla, her breath coming fast. “We’re just going to sleep through it? Again? With those…things out there? If I die, Kael, I’m haunting you.”
“Joke’s on you,” he shot back with a laugh. “I’m already haunted. And you got a better idea, Red Pepper? This is, like, the one rule in the book. Well, besides the watt usage,” he muttered while swallowing his.
Brigid let out a dry, breathy laugh before downing the pill. “You would be. And no. Here, let me help.” She snatched a pill from Isla’s outstretched hand to help James with it. “No, I don’t. But I don’t have to like it! Please, please, don’t eat my brains while I’m sleeping.”
Kael sat back, resigning himself to a more comfortable position. “Feels like it’s trying to keep up from… Wow, this stuff is strong…” Eyes rolling back, he fell under, Brigid collapsing shortly after giving James his.
Isla crouched beside James as it passed over them. Her guardian spoke with a sure tone, firm and definitive. “Now, everything is about to change for Us. Remember, I am always with you, my free little bird. When you wake, trust in your strength. Maeva watches while you sleep.”
Settling down in the abruptly cold sand, she popped it into her mouth and swallowed. She let her head tip back into her open palms, eyes flicking to the sky. The clouds overhead were thick, painted in shades of gray and pale blue.
Yet, just as she was drifting off, she heard a gentle, reassuring tune—something otherworldly—something beautiful. Maeva…
Her body felt too heavy, her eyes dragging closed with each blink. Her fingers curled against her jacket, seeing shapes swirl in the mist. The world dimmed. Her song faded. Her breath slowed, her heart a steady thump-thump-thump against her ribs.
Then, she dreamed.
It wasn’t like the others. It wasn’t like before, with the cosmic abyss that enveloped her.
The world was a vivid, blinding tapestry of colors that bent and swirled like a kaleidoscope spun too fast. The ground beneath her feet was soft, wet grass that shimmered with dew like tiny prisms of light. Her breath fogged before her, not from cold but from some other substance that filled her with strength—something sacred.
She stood on a hill overlooking a valley that stretched forever in every direction. A field of wildflowers bloomed in waves of blue, pink, and gold. And there, on the crest of another hill across from her, it stood.
The First Light…the unicorn who had saved them.
He wasn’t just a creature. He was a force. His coat was pure white, but it shimmered with every color in existence, his mane flowing like a ribbon caught in slow-motion wind. His horn spiraled high, glowing faintly at the tip with threads of red and blue flickering across it like embers and lightning all at once.
The First Light’s gaze met hers. Not an animal’s gaze. It was ancient. Deep. Knowing.
Her breath caught in her throat as her heart pounded against her ribs—did she have ribs? Her feet stayed rooted in place as the unicorn stepped forward, hooves leaving glowing prints in the grass that pulsed once before fading. He walked with purpose, like He was walking toward something that had been waiting a long, long time.
And behind it—
Her breath froze in her lungs. She knew that shape. It had no face, only a blank, smooth mask where features should be. Wings spread wide from Her back, feathers sharp as blades, light spilling through the gaps like sunbeams through broken clouds. She stood still, watching her, Her head tilting just slightly, as if finding her adorable.
Her throat went dry. She knew Her. Knew Her from a memory she’d never remembered… No, one that had been stolen from her. But…by who?
A voice echoed from everywhere at once. Deep, resonant, but somehow… Hers.
“Do you see it now?”
Her breath shuddered in her chest. Her eyes blinked once, twice, and her gaze focused on the unicorn, then Her wings, then—
Her eyes snapped open.
Isla’s breath hitched. The Fog was gone. The air was crisp. The light peeked through everywhere, soft but bright, with no shadow in sight.
No… I was so close! Damn you, Fog. You want to eat me and keep me on the razor’s edge! You’re the worst, she internally fumed, knowing it was probably just bad timing, though.
James stirred beside her, a faint groan rumbling from his chest. His eyes twitched beneath his lids, his breathing shallow but steady. Isla blinked slowly, her senses catching up with her. The world was too quiet. No birds. No insects. Just the hush of waves crashing softly in the distance, each roll quieter than the last.
Maeva’s song soon bled through with the fading fog, but it was strained now, as if the singer was in pain. Did she protect us with her voice the whole time we were asleep?
Her fingers pressed into the sand, the grains rough under her skin. The cool grit clung to her fingertips as she sat up, slowly, carefully. Her gaze flicked to Brigid and Kael. Both of them were now leaning against each other, their eyes closed, faces slack with sleep.
Isla’s fingers curled tighter into the sand.
The Fog is still thick, but it’s evaporating fast…
Scanning the beach, she tracked the low dunes and scattered debris. The ship still bobbed in the distance, untouched, but there was a slight wave that rippled through the typically glass-like sea. Her vision narrowed at the edge of the ocean.
There. Movement… Son of a bitch.
Her breath slowed to a shallow, silent draw. The shadows within the ocean exited, shifting unnaturally, like a twitch in the frame of a video. Her eyes locked on it, heart thudding once, twice, steady now. The shadow moved again, stretching unnaturally across the sand—not from the sea, from the boat—the one from her first encounter that had been staying below deck.
Her eyes tracked its shape, the too-long arms that folded out from behind the hull, the head that followed—tilted, cocked, unnatural. The thousands of hollow eyes and mouths.
One. Just one.
But no. Her eyes shifted to the side.
Another shape rose from behind a cluster of rocks further down the beach. A long, narrow face…the aliens. Black eyes, orange skinned, and those softly glowing pink veins. Her jaw clenched as more forms unfolded from a sandbank near the treeline, grains of sand cascading off its bony shoulders like water.
However, contrary to what her mind told her she should feel, her heartbeat was steady. They haven’t just come upon us… They were here all along. They were buried. Waiting. Dreaming, just like us… And Maeva kept them that way.
Her gaze snapped to the water, scanning the shallow waves lapping against the shore—the fish tank on the rowboat was gone, but she couldn’t think about that now.
The increasing light caught on something beneath the smooth surface. She squinted, leaning forward to get a better look. A face. No, two. Black eyes stared at her from just beneath the waterline, rippling as if staring through warped glass.
Isla took a deep breath. More. Too many. And Maeva can’t help us now.
The sand shifted to her left. She twisted her head just in time to see fingers break through the surface—orange, long, thin, clawing upward in slow, jerky movements. One hand became two, then three, then five. All around them. There was something different about them now—slugs, gray, and wiggling with tentacle-like appendages—leaked from their open mouths, noses, and ears, crawling over their bodies.
“Gross,” she chuckled, feeling a prickle run down her spine, but not from fear—it was purpose. The others started to stir, rousing with the monsters that surrounded them. “Well, I suppose it’s our turn to protect everyone. Thanks, Maeva. We owe you.”
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