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IF - Chapter 15
🕑 Added 2024-12-20 23:07:43 +0000 UTC------------------
Isla’s boots crunched against the coarse sand, grit biting at her soles while running across the rocky intertidal area. Gunfire continued to pepper the air. The sharp tang of salt hung in the air, every breath a taste of the sea as she rounded the rise to see the plane looming in the distance, its metallic body totally intact. However, it was the increasing number of bodies making their way toward her that soon snatched her attention.
Maeva’s voice came through the radio, staticy, sharp, and urgent. “Isla! They’re—coming!”
“What?!” she yelled back, squinting to focus on the distant objects.
The first people running toward her were James and Maeva, the medic already in a full sprint, her medical bag jostling against her side. The soldier was just behind her, keeping pace while twisting his torso to fire quick, controlled bursts behind him, his feet never slowing.
Crack! Crack!
Two shots from James’s rifle echoed through the humid air, the sharp rapport swiftly drowned out by Isla’s thumping ears as she saw them—orange-skinned figures, stumbling out of the plane’s broken side door and shattering windows to crawl out.
James’ rounds had already torn through the chests of the first to exit, crumpling to the sand, limbs folding awkwardly like a marionette with its strings cut. A second, third, and fourth followed. Then, a fifth. A sixth. Maeva held a pistol, turning to fire shots, but far less accurate.
Orange…alien people?!
Somewhat unsure what to do—either retreat to pick up a weapon or get one from James—she stood paralyzed for a moment, gathering her wits. Eyes quickly scanning the small packs behind the pair, she took note of several factors. The first: they moved wrong.
Stiff, uneven lurches, as if waking from a long sleep, like zombies, jerking side-to-side. Glowing, pink-veined skin, taut over bone-thin frames. Small packs stopped to surround those who were shot, as if curious as to what they were doing on the sand.
Isla’s heart thudded against her ribs as time picked back up.
“Shit. More incoming,” James growled, shockingly calm through Maeva’s live transmission. His hands moved fluid as water, popping out a clip and reloading. “Focus on running back to the boat.”
“How many—” Maeva’s breath hitched as her eyes snapped from one figure to the next. Her hand fumbled with her gun, dropping it in the sand. “Dammit!”
“Forget it,” James ordered. His eyes darted to the emergency exits now spilling open like bursting pods. One. Two. Six. Ten. More windows shattered from within, thin, orange hands clawing their way through the glass. His trigger hand slid to a device on his chest—an explosion followed, likely demo charges he’d set in advance, the boom sending those nearest stumbling to the ground, covering their eyes instead of their long, thin ears. “We need to get to the weapons cache…”
Isla jumped into action, lifting the radio to her lips. “A plane that size? Three hundred, at least—I see you.” Her gaze locked on the growing swarm—aliens pouring from the plane’s rear now, falling to the sand, landing in ungainly heaps before snapping upright, limbs twitching. “James! Camp is clear! Maeva, focus on running!”
James’s face hardened as he tugged at something on his belt, looked over his shoulder as if making several quick calculations, and tossed it back.
BOOM!
The grenade detonated, taking out the nearest group. The blast hit like a thunderclap, spraying sand and smoke in a wide radius. Several figures were flung backward, limbs cartwheeling. James had taken care of all the nearest targets. Yet, probably a hundred were now limping their way toward them like the walking dead.
“They’re still moving,” Maeva squeaked as she backed up toward the treeline, eyes darting, hands twitching. “They’re…not stopping, James!”
“James, control their approach! Get them bottlenecked near the rocks!” Isla’s returned, already racing toward them. She pointed them to the alcove at the edge of the beach, scanning for higher ground. Her eyes flicked to the jagged outcrops further inland—behind her, Hollow was gone. “Shit. Maeva! Move! Move!”
James squeezed off three more shots—each one sharp, precise. Another alien’s head snapped back, black ichor spilling out in ribbons, but two more replaced it, unflinching. His hands darted for another grenade. “We’re wasting ammo, Cap.”
“Then stop wasting it and keep moving!” Isla’s jaw tightened, her gaze flicking to James’s position, noting his angle of retreat. Her brain ran hot with calculations. Number of hostiles. Speed of approach. Terrain advantages. She’d never been in combat but it felt natural.
“I’m trying!”
Sand sprayed around her ankles as she ran toward the treeline, Maeva barely keeping up. James was slower, having to fire off shots as he moved. They reached the jungle’s edge, the dense foliage. Then, She hummed behind Isla, a gentle pulse.
“Lay the earth bare, Isla. Hollow it deep. Pour life’s essence and sweetness into its heart.”
The words weren’t loud, but they were absolute. Solid. An assurance with weight behind it that pressed on Isla’s spine, her muscles responding before her mind fully caught up. She hesitated for half a second, focusing on James’ pack on his shoulder, Maeva huffing and puffing nearby, her eyes wild and wondering why she’d stopped.
What kind of advice is that?!
“Have faith in deliverance.”
“Son of a bitch! James! Dig a hole!” Her shout had the sharp, pointed tone of an officer on the edge of battle, and James’s body moved before his brain argued, slinging his pack off to unstrap an extendable shovel.
“What?” Maeva’s eyes darted between the encroaching swarm, James having bought them only forty seconds or so before the next wave. “Why? What are you—”
“Just do it!” Isla’s glare was iron. “Maeva, I need two water bottles and those gummy bears in your bag. Now.”
Maeva’s hands moved as if yanked by unseen strings, panic making her fumble for a second with her zipper. She didn’t argue, only hesitated for half a heartbeat before digging for the bottles. James was already on his knees, his shovel digging into the more dirt-like soil near the jungle as if it had wronged him, scooping up chunks of earth.
“This is insane,” Maeva muttered, shaking her head, breath short with exertion. “You—this—”
She trailed off as she handed over the bottles. Isla’s hands didn’t tremble as she cracked them open, pouring liquid into the pit James had scraped out.
“Gummy bears,” Isla demanded, quieter now but no less commanding.
Maeva’s eyes flicked to the bag, hands fumbling as she ripped it open and dumped the brightly colored bears into the water. They bobbed like miniature corpses in a pond, spinning slowly in the sugar-infused mix.
There, I did it! I…
The world’s colors shifted. Time elongated. Sound hushed, as if quieting to welcome in something divine. It wasn’t gradual. It hit like a flash grenade, brilliant bands of color flooding the air, weaving in arcs that bent like prisms around them. James’s eyes squeezed shut. Maeva gasped, throwing an arm over her face, fingers clawing at her forehead.
“I-I can’t see!”
But Isla saw… She saw it. She saw Him.
The massive unicorn stepped through the fractured rainbow that bled out of the pool, creating a fractured rift in space as several more streaks danced across the sky. His eyes, as old as the sea; His mane, rippling like silk caught in a storm.
Then, as if time had splintered, every person moved at a different pace. He bent His head, silver horn catching every twisted light, and drank from the gummy-filled pool. For a breath, everything went utterly still. The swarm of aliens stumbled forward through the fog, insects now beginning to swarm in dense clouds from the jungle, yet kept their distance from Him to focus on the alien corpses.
What…is happening? Isla felt weightless in His presence, as if Her wings at Isla’s back were fluttering with the charged energy that filtered through her. Who?
“Behold… The First Light given form. The Herald of Balance. He drinks from the Well of Offering, for all things born of faith are answered in kind.”
The unicorn’s head lifted. Its effulgent eyes locked on them. The aliens seemed to know. They shuddered. Then, His horn glowed.
“Get down!” Isla dove forward, tackling the shocked soldier and medic to the dirt.
Crimson and rose-pink lightning spiraled from its horn like a forked tongue, rising to meet the rainbows that overcast the heavens. The moment they touched, everything went white. Then, the dance came—bolts of lightning, thicker than the unicorn Himself, arched from nearly every angle, red and light-rosen colors flitting across her vision.
In that brief second, frozen in time, Isla felt weightless. She blinked. Then, the sound came, thundering with the pounding in her chest as she lay atop Maeva, limbs twitching with residual electricity as static buzzed in her ears. None of them had been hit.
The sharp tang of ozone lingered in the air, mixing with the burnt stench of scorched flesh and ash. Her breath came in short, shallow pulls as her gaze slowly focused on the smoking remains of the beach. The world glowed with faint, otherworldly rainbow hues, colors shimmering off grains of sand like crushed gemstones.
Fragments of charred bones and piles of ash filled the area as she rose to her knees, shaky but alive. James and Maeva seemed petrified on the ground. Her fingers pressed into the damp dirt, anchoring herself as her pulse steadied. Heat lingered in the ground beneath her palms, thumping with life.
Her gaze swept the sandy zone, taking in the aftermath. The blackened husks of the aliens lay scattered in twisted, grotesque forms, bodies half-reduced to ash, their faces frozen in silent, open-mouthed screams. The storm of bugs was gone—most of them fried by the First Light’s dual-colored lightning, no doubt. But it was the unicorn that held her attention and Her lingering words echoing through her soul.
“Have faith.”
It stood at the edge of the makeshift well they’d dug, its horn tilted down as He drank from the pool of sugar water and gummy bears. The creature’s ethereal white coat shimmered, His mane rippling with liquid rainbows, each hair as fine as spun silk. Isla’s eyes stayed locked on its shape, her mind trying to reconcile the sight with the raw, divine violence it had unleashed moments before.
Beautiful. Terrifying. Holy. All at once.
Her hand lifted slowly, fingers trembling, unsure if she should reach for it. “Thank you…” she whispered, her voice barely audible beneath the whisper of hum in the air and distant cawing birds, their cry as if in panic or reverence.
The unicorn’s ear twitched at the sound, His eyes—swirling pools of color, deep and ancient—flicked to meet hers. He lingered for a heartbeat longer, staring as if peering past her skin and into her core. At Her. Then, with a snort, He turned away, walking toward the jungle’s edge, His form shimmering with each step until He vanished into the shadows of the trees. The rainbow halo faded from the heavens, leaving only the harsh, golden light of the ever-present glow that illuminated this realm.
“Isla!” James’s shout was distant but sharp, cutting through her reverie. She twisted toward the sound, right next to her, sand sticking to her sweat-slicked face. Her heart leaped as she spotted him and Maeva struggling to rise to their feet, looking weak after the incident.
Isla’s gaze flickered to Maeva as she rubbed furiously at her eyes, a choked sob rising in her throat. Her hands clawed at her face, her fingers trembling.
“I…I can’t see! Isla, I can’t see!” Maeva’s breaths came in short, jagged bursts, her shoulders rising and falling like she’d just surfaced from deep water. Tears streamed down her red cheeks, the raw edge of terror in every breath.
“Maeva, stop rubbing them!” she shouted, dropping to her knees in front of the medic, grabbing her wrists with firm but steady hands. “Breathe. It’s just the light. It’s fading now. You’re okay. Count with me. One. Two. That’s it… Three. I’m right here.”
Maeva’s lip quivered as she blinked rapidly, her lashes wet with tears as she finished the sequence. “I—I can’t—” Her words faltered, but her breaths began to even out. The tightness in Isla’s chest eased slightly as she saw Maeva’s color-filled pupils begin to react, focusing slowly. Not much, but enough to spark hope.
James’s voice rasped from nearby as he knelt, rubbing his face with the heel of his hand. “Damn…felt like…someone’s flashbang went off right in my skull.” He blinked hard, squinting at her as if only seeing a silhouette. “What—what the hell was that?”
Isla’s eyes darted back toward the jungle’s edge, where the unicorn had vanished, the memory of His swirling, ancient vision still burned into her mind. “You didn’t see it?” Her voice was quieter than she’d intended, her throat dry and raw. “The unicorn. You had to have seen Him. He was…” she trailed off, struggling to find words that wouldn’t sound insane and realizing they’d been totally blinded during the whole thing.
James snorted, his brows drawing tight as he shot her a flat look. “A…unicorn? I’d accept a lot of shit here, but a unicorn? All I saw was light. Bright, blinding light. Like I’d stared into a supernova.” He rubbed his vision harder and blinked rapidly. “Unicorns now? You’re serious?”
“It’s…it’s true,” her gaze darted back toward the jungle again, heart pounding with a strange, breathless certainty. “He—” Her breath hitched, and she glanced at Maeva. “Maeva, you saw Him, right? Did seeing Him temporarily blind you?”
Maeva’s hands lowered from her face, her tear-streaked eyes searching hers. The medic’s pupils were returning to normal, reacting again, her gaze darting toward the jungle and then back to her face.
“What?” She shook her head, lips pressed into a thin line. “I…I didn’t see anything. Just… rainbows. Light. So much light. It—it—” She sniffled, wiping her face on her sleeve, still trembling. “God, I thought I’d gone blind. What about those…things. Is that them?”
Relief bloomed in Isla’s chest as Maeva and James’ mouths parted in disbelief upon spotting the devastated zone and charred figures.
Everything worked out, she internally reassured. Maeva’s sight is back. The aliens are dead. He is still here. I can feel Him in the jungle. We’re safe. We should be safe…
She squeezed Maeva’s wrist once before letting go. “You’re going to be okay. Are you okay?”
The medic gave her a puffy-faced smile. “I think so… It’s coming back,” she mumbled, leaning in a little.
“Wait,” James’ sharp tone snapped them to alert, following his gaze to the edge of the nearest blackened corpses that littered the sand. “Cap…you see that?”
Isla squinted. At first, she didn’t see it. Then she did.
A small swarm of insects hovered near one of the charred alien corpses. They buzzed lazily, drifting in slow spirals, wings shimmering faintly. The insects fell and rose out of the air, as if drunk. Yet, gradually, they were drawing closer. Each one resembled a mosquito but slightly larger. The hum of their wings rose in volume, faint at first but growing steadily.
“No, no, no,” Maeva’s voice shook as she spotted them, her hands curling into fists. “Not bugs. Not now. Not now!” Her eyes darted wildly. She scrambled backward on her hands and knees, sand and dirt clinging to her palms. “I—I’m not doing that again!”
“James, bug zapper,” Isla’s voice cut through the panic, recalling his earlier comment. “Do you have one?”
James’s eyes shot wide as he dove for his bag. “Shit! It’s at the bottom of my pack!”
His hands fumbled at the zipper, tugging at it with rough, frantic pulls. Maeva’s breath came in short gasps as her back hit a boulder.
“Stay calm, Maeva. Don’t make any sudden—”
Maeva’a eyes darted wildly, and her hand shot out as one landed on her arm, swatting it with a slap. Her eyes widened, her face contorting with terror. “I didn’t mean… Isla! They’re—”
Another slap. Then another as they began to swarm. Isla could only watch in horror as green spots began to form, round welts blooming along her forearm where she’d struck. Her breathing came in fast, panicked gasps as she flailed, slapping at her arms, her neck, her face. Her eyes bulged as she stumbled toward her, swinging wildly at the air.
“Get them off! Get them off me!”
What do I do?!
“Hold still!” Isla cried. “Don’t swat them! They’re swarming you because you—”
“Got it!” James’ shout came from behind her as he pulled a small, gray, cylindrical device from his pack. He slapped the battery into the bottom, twisting it until it locked with a loud click. His thumb hit the switch, and the device let out a low hum that built into a sharp, vibrating whine. Purple-blue light bloomed from the grates along its side, the glow bright in the shadowed beach. “On! It’s on!”
The hum turned into a sharp, high-pitched buzz as the air around them shimmered. The mosquitoes—no, the things pretending to be mosquitoes—stilled for half a breath, their tiny bodies twitching in midair. Then, as if drawn by an irresistible force, they veered toward the light like bullets.
Sparks crackled, sharp pops of energy as the insects hit the zapper’s grid. Tiny bodies twitched and curled, little spirals of smoke rising from the glowing blue grate. Maeva’s gasping breaths slowed, her hands still raised defensively. She stared at the device, her chest heaving, sweat slicking her face, and green welts still puffing up across her dark-brown skin.
“They’re gone,” Isla whispered, cautiously approaching her as the medic twitched. Her eyes locked on her face. “They’re gone, Maeva. Look at me. Are you okay? How do you feel?”
“It…itches. Don’t scratch…never scratch.” Maeva’s gaze slowly found hers. Her arms lowered, her body trembling as exhaustion caught up with her. Tears slipped down her face, but she didn’t swipe them away this time. “I hate bugs,” she muttered, her voice small, ragged, but steady. “I had a dream…during The Fog.”
“I hate bugs, too,” Isla faintly chuckled, lips tugging into a faint smile. “But we’re still here. We should probably see what those welts are. They look…”
Her relief was short-lived.
Maeva’s eyes drifted to the green spots, then went wild—too wild—her pupils blown wide, the splotches dotting her neck and arms starting to glow.
“No! No, no, no. Maeva. Listen to me…”
The medic’s breathing came in sharp, guttural huffs, like an animal sniffing for prey. Her fingers curled before itching at her arm, too hard, drawing greenish blood from the sore.
James’s arm was raised, his hands outstretched toward her in an attempt to calm her down. “Maeva, stop! It’s me!” he called, his voice lined with tension but not fear. “Let me look—”
Maeva’s head jerked toward him, movements too fast, too sudden, like a beast caught mid-hunt. Her lips pulled back in a snarl, her teeth bared, and she lunged. James’s eyes widened with realization a split-second too late. Isla couldn’t bridge the gap in time.
“Maeva, no!” she shouted, but the medic’s body moved with the strength of something beyond human. Her hands shoved against James’ chest with raw, shocking force.
The giant, brick wall of a man flew backward like a ragdoll, his back cracking hard against a large, jagged rocky section of the intertidal rise with a sickening thud. His body slumped to the ground, unmoving, sand clouding around him from the impact. Isla’s stomach dropped.
It was supposed to get better! He saved us…
In return, all She said was, “Have faith.”
Maeva’s chest heaved as she stumbled a step forward, her wide eyes darting in frantic directions as if searching for something—or someone. Her head tilted like she was listening to a sound only she could hear.
Her breathing grew shallow, sharp little gasps that made Isla’s own lungs ache in sympathy. Her pupils slit, gills slit along her neck. Her features grew more elegant, yet frightening, teeth sharpening. The medic’s legs twitched, muscles coiling like a predator preparing to sprint.
She’s going to run.
Isla’s pulse quickened. “Maeva, listen to me!” she barked, her tone sharp and commanding. “Stay here! We’ll figure it out together! Can you hear me?” Her heart pounded with every word.
Please stay. Please…
Maeva’s gaze locked onto her for a brief moment—a flicker of recognition—a shadow of the person she’d been moments ago. Then tears welled up in her dilating eyes, and she looked down at her trembling hands, webbing starting to grow between her fingers. “No… No, this wasn’t supposed to—I had control… No!”
She bolted into the jungle, limbs moving with inhuman fluidity, her boots kicking off, bare feet digging into the sand as she sprinted into the foliage. Maeva vanished into the underbrush in seconds, swallowed whole by the tangle of roots and leaves.
“Dammit!” Isla fell to her knees, fist slamming into the sand, fingers clawing at the grit. She gasped in frustration, tears stinging her eyes.
I should’ve stopped this from happening. He killed the aliens! Why? I should’ve…
“Isla, have faith.” Her presence, soft but firm, pressed against her mind. Warmth, calm, control. “She will find her way back to him. There is more happening than you see. Trust in her. Support her in the way you can.”
Her breathing slowed. Her muscles relaxed, only slightly, but enough to clear her head as that same tranquil sensation of fluffy wings surrounded her. Then, she heard it—ragged, uneven breaths, sharp and shallow like air forced through a cracked flute.
“James…” she muttered, wiping her face and stumbling upright, legs unsteady beneath her. Her gaze locked onto his slumped form at the base of the boulder, his massive chest rising and falling in short, labored bursts. Each breath came with a faint, hitching jolt, as if his lungs had to fight against his own body to draw in air.
“James!” Isla’s pulse surged, her feet moving before her mind caught up. She dropped beside him, eyes darting over his face, his chest. Carefully pulling back his shirt, she saw it, slight discoloration already forming along his ribs. Her fingers hovered for a moment, hesitation flickering through her.
This is why she generally worked alone when in the field—did her best to stay distant from people. She wasn’t a soldier. She’d only dealt with minor injuries on expeditions.
“Don’t panic,” she muttered to herself, swallowing the lump in her throat and doing a quick scan of the area. No visible threats. The radio. Snatching it, she activated it. “Kael, Brigid?!”
Static.
“Shit.” Doubt started creeping into her chest. Maybe she shouldn’t have sent them off, like Hollow warned her; things could escalate quickly in this place. Fighting it down with a growl, she mumbled, “Just check him. Like hell, Hollow’s right.”
Her hand pressed gently against his cheek, fingers tapping in short, quick bursts. “C’mon, c’mon, James. You’re tougher than this. Open your eyes!”
Her voice wavered at the edges, but she kept it firm. His face twitched. The barest wince. His body shuddered with the effort of another shallow breath, his chest barely shifting. Her heart jumped. “At least there’s a response.”
Her fingers moved with purpose now, pressing two fingers against his neck. Her gaze snagged on the faint, discolored blotch just below his ear. She frowned, her mind catching on that detail for a moment too long.
A bite mark? A hickey… She didn’t do that to him when he tried to help her…
A cautionary tone filled her. “Maeva can take care of herself. Do not linger. The others merely hid from the First Light. Their threat persists. Return to camp. Believe help will come.”
Her gaze snapped back to his chest. The unnatural stutter in his breathing wasn’t just fatigue. She knew the sound of broken ribs—had two herself a few years ago—the shallow gasps, the tight, pained grimace with every rise of his chest.
Isla’s fingers hovered just above his ribs, not daring to press down. “Don’t you dare have a punctured lung on me, James,” she muttered through grit teeth. Her mind spun with every possible outcome, every mistake she could make by moving him.
“Okay… Well, we don’t have a damn choice. Do we? And you’ve seen worse…probably.”
She glanced toward the tree line, eyes sharp for any sign of Maeva. Nothing. Her hand curled into a fist before she forced it to relax.
Have faith in her, huh? Wait… That last thing she said. Isla’s vision darkened, sliding along the gentle sway of the jungle. Maeva can take care of herself? And she said, “This wasn’t supposed to happen… I had control.” That change she went through… What if it wasn’t caused by the bugs, but they forced it out?
Swallowing a lump that formed in her throat, Isla studied James with slight hesitation, but one devilish smile gleamed in her mind, puppets dancing to her fingers. What kind of team did you make me the captain of, Eve? Me, Hollow, and now Maeva have something secret hidden beneath the surface… What about the other three?
Other than the hickey, James seemed like your average, super-jacked military escort. Well, one that was likely going to suffer from a concussion and broken ribs.
“You’re not dying here. You hear me? Not until I can confront you about any dark secrets you might have,” she growled, leaning close.
Her face inches from his as she examined the hickey. Isla’s saliva thickened. It certainly looked like a human bite, yet tiny pricks had barely drawn blood, as if fangs had slid up ever so slightly to penetrate his skin on closer inspection.
What are you, Maeva? What was this? Marking your territory or something? Still, I don’t feel as freaked out as I should. Maybe because She basically vouched for you… Stay safe.
Grimacing, her jaw set while glancing at James, his face pale, his breathing shallow but steady, and the backpack Maeva had abandoned. If she is here, I should leave her pack, at least. If she’s fighting an infection or her transformation…whatever it is, I’m sure it will be useful to her.
“Ugh. You’re going to force me to move you. Aren’t you, big guy?” She scrutinized his bulky frame, 6'5", probably 250 lbs of pure muscle. “I’m gonna need more than just me…but I don’t have anyone else. Great. I guess working out and staying in shape helped for something…” she mumbled, flexing and stretching a bit to prepare herself.
Quickly emptying his pack, she carefully slid it under his back and used it as support to drag him across the dirt, moving around the rocky bits until they were back on sand. Her muscles burned as she leaned back, letting out a guttural grunt as she pulled him inch by inch, each step a test of her resolve.
You’re going to have one hell of a raw back and ass, but what… Her breath came in ragged bursts. Her legs shook under the weight. But the distant churn of the boat’s engine made a shock reverberate down her spine. They’re back?! Please, don’t show me alien pirates next…
Somewhat breathless, she pulled the radio off her belt. “Brigid! Tell me it’s you.”
Static…then a response.
“Captain! We got the case. Weird story…”
“Save it,” she stated, cutting the technician off. “James is injured and Maeva… Well, she’s off in the jungle. Weird story,” she repeated with a forced laugh for a bit of humor to lighten the edge in her tone. “I’m going to need both of your help. I think we’re leaving as soon as we can get James stable.”
“Wait, what?” Kael’s confused voice broke in. “What about Hollow? We don’t have the rowboat. Do you want us to swim to—”
“No! Who knows what’s in the water,” she grunted, wiping the sweat from her brow and staring off at the glass-like sea, the only ripples coming from anywhere there was an edge. “I’ll bring it out to you once I get James situated by the camp. Just be ready and bring the boat as close as you can.”
“Umm, okay. You’re kind of scaring me, though, Isla… See you soon.”
Puffing out a long stream of air, Isla looked down at James and smiled. “Stay positive, big guy! Everything will work out… Just, keep moving. Keep moving…”
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