Page 17 of Blue Arrow Island (Blue Arrow Island #1)

Plants are too commonly underestimated by science.

They are not the passive nonstarters many think them to be.

In fact, plants speak their own highly evolved language, a complex dialogue with their microbial partners, herbivore enemies and neighboring plants.

This multispecies communication and coordination is a scientific wonder.

– Excerpt from a lecture given by Dr. Lucinda Hollis in her Introduction to Plant Biology course

My food bowl has a lump of algae and two thick, curled-up grubs in it. The sudden stab I feel in my stomach isn’t hunger, but protest.

I consider passing it back to Billy, but only for a split second. Instead, I smile, though it’s admittedly pretty weak.

“Thanks, Billy.”

“Just pretend it’s one of them fancy places from before the virus. They charged people hundreds of bucks for meals like this.”

My smile widens. “True. You’ll add this to my tab?”

“You know it.”

Without tables to sit at, I walk around slowly instead. Before I have time to give it too much thought, I pop one of the grubs into my mouth, chewing it quickly. The gush of its foul-tasting guts in my mouth makes me cringe.

My time with Lochlan made me harder in some ways, and softer in others. Before the virus, I had to eat things I didn’t want to. Once Whitman took over, he had crews raiding homes and taking everything. There was a lot of nonperishable food left, and very few people, but he hoarded it all.

I scavenged through trash for food sometimes. Ate bugs. And I wasn’t as bothered by it as I am by the slippery, briny algae I swallow with my eyes closed.

When I was twelve, my dad took our family on a weeklong camping trip in northern Minnesota. He had weapons but told us he’d only use them in an emergency. We foraged for food, my mom showing us how to figure out what plants are safe to eat. We ate grasshoppers, grubs, even worms.

The meals served by Lochlan’s chef were always lavish. Having more food on the table than the two of us could possibly eat was expected. I ate robotically, my skin crawling over being just a few feet from the man I hated with my entire being.

But I still ate. Tender steaks, fresh vegetables, fluffy dinner rolls, fruit tarts. I got used to that kind of food—came to expect it, even. And I hate myself a little for it.

Other people starved and dug through garbage, while I ate like royalty. Lochlan probably has a new wife locked up and guarded in his home, eating those meals and enduring her life.

I should’ve fought harder to escape. I tried sneaking out and bribing guards, and the punishment every time was severe. I would have taken the worst of beatings over Lochlan’s sexual punishments, but it was never an option.

I hate it here, but it’s still a better life than that was. For me, anyway. But not for the Rising Tide children. How many lives will they take one day, in the name of a power-hungry maniac who wants to rule every inch of the planet?

“Good morning.”

I jump at the sound of Pax’s voice beside me, the memory of his rabid expression and blood-smeared face in the circle making my spine straighten.

“Sorry.” I force myself to smile. “I was off in my own world.”

He grins, his face clean and freshly shaven. “I’ve got plans for us today, and they involve getting you wet.”

An awkward laugh bubbles out of my mouth, my stomach dropping to the ground.

Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. Stop fighting it. Do it now. Get on your knees for him.

No, I roar the word in my own head, pushing away the unwanted thoughts. They’re getting stronger every day.

His smile slides into a smirk. “From the look on your face, I’m thinking I may have an adorably nervous virgin on my hands.

The things I’m going to teach you...” His gaze roves up and down my body.

“But I was talking about sparring on a log over a spring to work on balance. Everyone falls into the water a few dozen times when they start.”

My jaw unclenches with relief. Now I only have to worry about making myself slip and fall a few times during training today. It’s something I’ve practiced often, but I have to keep holding back so I don’t get promoted to two.

He runs a hand over his face and looks away, chuckling. “It’s hard for me to focus on anything else when you blush like that.”

I groan inwardly. I just escaped this line of conversation and I don’t want to go back to it.

“Did you eat already?” I ask. “I’m ready to get started if you are.”

“Yeah, I ate my grilled crickets and algae earlier.”

He nods at a group of fours walking past in a line, a thick tree trunk resting on their right shoulders.

They don’t even look winded, and that trunk should be too heavy for them to carry. I lie awake at night worrying about getting called into the circle by a four. In less than two weeks, I’ll probably end up there with Marcelle, and that’s bad enough.

I’m hoping raw rage will get me through that. But the fours are another level entirely. There are two men and two pregnant women shouldering that tree trunk. They’re starving, their arms and legs too thin, but they look well rested and strong.

Way too strong. I don’t let myself think too much about Whitman having an army of fours and robot kids at his disposal. Regular people would be defenseless against them.

“Commander Marsden wants us to stop by the office before we start training,” Pax says. “Is your canteen filled?”

I pat the stainless jug resting against my hip. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Cleanup crews worked almost around the clock for two days, and storm cleanup is done.

Rebuilding is underway, slowed by the muddiness of camp.

Everyone’s boots are caked in it, and it’s common to slip and fall.

None of us has had truly clean clothes since before the storm.

Laundry isn’t a priority. Pax takes me to the ocean a couple of times a day to cool down and rinse off, and we go in fully clothed to get the worst of the mud off our clothes.

The heat here is thick and oppressive, but it’s dryness I crave the most. My inner thighs are so chafed they’re close to bleeding. If I could choose between a real meal and a night of sleep in a dry bed with dry clothes on, I’d have to think hard about it.

We pass Rona, who’s standing with some twos, and I nod in greeting. Her expression hardens and she looks away. I wonder what that’s about.

“So was last night kind of overwhelming for you?” Pax asks me.

I want to laugh, because that’s not the word I’d use to describe it. But I have to play it smart, so I nod.

“When I worked in an office and swiped left and right on women, I never would have believed I’d be doing something like that a few years later. The circle is important here, though. When the weaker Tider has been eliminated, we come together to celebrate being stronger.”

Eliminated. Celebrate. I see how Pax rose to a leadership position here. He’s great at putting a polished spin on things like murder and public group sex.

“There you are.”

I’m saved from responding by Virginia, who’s walking toward us, her lips set in a tense, thin line.

“I wasn’t hiding or anything,” Pax quips. “We were on our way to the office.”

“This couldn’t wait. It’s about Briar.”

A knot quickly forms in my stomach. Does she know I tried to look in the safe?

“What about her?” Pax asks, a note of defensiveness in his voice.

“I’m told she isn’t happy here.” Virginia crosses her arms and locks eyes with me, her gaze unnerving.

I smile weakly. “I mean, is anyone here super happy? I’m doing my best to fit in.”

Virginia flicks a look at Pax. “Did you take her to see the children?”

He looks away, guilt etched on his face. “I had to do something there, and since she’s shadowing me?—”

“A decision you made without consulting me.” Anger flashes in her eyes. “That’s not how we do things here and you’re well aware. She’s telling other ones we treat the children unfairly.”

Fuck. Rona. This explains the look on her face when I passed her. I’m going to have to talk my way out of this.

“I didn’t say that exactly.”

“I know what you said.” She sneers, barely contained rage making her shake slightly. “You want to escape the island and you don’t approve of how we do things here.”

Alarm hits me hard and fast. Why did I think I could trust Rona? Why did I think I could trust anyone ?

“Look, it’s a big adjustment.” I turn to Pax. “You know I’m working hard to find my place here.”

“Don’t look at him.” Virginia points at me. “He’s thinking with his dick, as usual.”

“Virginia.” Pax’s pissed-off tone is also scolding. “This isn’t the time or place.”

She takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of her nose, seeming to be trying to get ahold of herself.

“I apologize, Commander Thatcher.” She gives me a withering glare. “You’re going into isolation.”

Pax scoffs. “Come on, that’s excessive.”

She puts up a palm. “It’s not up for discussion.”

“She was just asking questions! Lots of ones do that.”

“You didn’t take the report, I did. This was more than asking questions. She’s going into isolation. She’s being called into the circle on her thirty-first day here, and if she survives it?—”

“That’s not fair and you know it,” Pax says bitterly. “She’s already at a disadvantage against Marcelle. Now you want to make her go without food or training for two weeks? It’s a death sentence.”

“This is the Rising Tide way. No one said it was easy.”

A muscle in Pax’s jaw tics. “Don’t do this.”

“It’s already done. We’re taking her there now.”

He shakes his head, his voice low and menacing. “This isn’t about her and you know it.”

“Commander Thatcher, my decision is final.”

My heart races as they stare at each other for a few long seconds, the tension palpable. Pax’s glare is murderous. Finally, he breaks the stare-off, shrugging.

“Fine. Guess I’m going too, since she’s shadowing me.”

Virginia rolls her eyes. “Get your shit together, Commander. That’s not an option.”

“How is she supposed to train?”

“That’s her problem.”

They’re going to put me in a cell. I can’t be locked up again. The few weeks I spent in a cell were terrifying. I was helpless, trapped alone with only my fears and regrets.

“Can I leave instead?” I blurt, my heart pounding so hard I’m a little dizzy.

“Leave the camp?” Pax shakes his head, aggravated. “No. I told you, you’ll be dead within a day. You can’t survive this place alone.”

I’m not doing so great here either, but I don’t say that.

“You can’t leave,” Virginia echoes. “You know too much.”

Panic cracks my chest open, flooding me with anxiety. They won’t let me go. I’ll be kept prisoner here until I’m a mindless breeding and fighting machine.

That, or Marcelle will take me out in the circle, and the Rising Tiders will have an orgy next to my dead body. Both options are horrific.

“Let’s go.” Virginia grabs my upper arm to lead me away, and I pull out of her grasp.

She narrows her eyes at me, looking ready to pounce.

“I’m going. Don’t touch me.”

It was a reflex; being touched is almost always bad, and my subconscious knows it.

Pax and Virginia stand on either side of me, both tense, but for different reasons.

I have to stay calm. This is a big setback, but I’m still alive. What I do and say from here may determine whether I stay that way.

We’re near the center of the camp when we stop by a worn raft. At least, I always assumed it was a raft. The side-by-side pieces of bamboo are lashed together with a thin rope made of woven vines that are brown and brittle-looking with age.

Virginia bends and picks up one end of it, flipping it up and over, and I realize it’s a hinged door. I inhale sharply when I realize where she’s sending me.

It’s a deep hole in the ground. It’s about eight feet in diameter and fifteen feet deep, lined with smooth metal.

“No,” I whisper, fighting the burn in my eyes. “Don’t put me in there.”

I give Pax an imploring look as Virginia goes over to a building to take a long ladder, also made of lashed-together bamboo, from an outer wall. He moves in front of me and meets my eyes, putting his hands on my shoulders.

“I’ll check on you a lot. I promise. I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

“Commander.” Virginia snaps. “Help me with this.”

She has no trouble with the ladder’s weight, but she needs help maneuvering the long ladder into the hole. Pax sighs and takes one end.

I’m going to die in a dark hole in the ground. Alone. Starving. I’d rather throw myself from a cliff and be done with it.

“Don’t do this,” I beg. “Please don’t do this.”

I loathe the emotional crack in my voice, but I can’t help it. I’m desperate. I’ll be completely defenseless down there, a broken-down mess when I’m let out just in time to fight Marcelle.

Kill her. Kill Virginia. She’s jealous of you. You aren’t weak, so push her in the hole and let her die in there.

I close my eyes, a distressed cry coming from my throat. I’m losing my mind, having thoughts that aren’t really mine, and that hole will be the final nail in my coffin.

“You can do this, Briar.” Pax’s stern voice brings me back to reality. “Be strong.”

My dad used to say that to me. He said it’s most important to be strong when you’re feeling your weakest. That’s now.

“Go,” Virginia says, impatient.

Shaking, I refuse to look at either of them as I position the ladder so it won’t tip, pushing the bottom of it to the opposite side of the hole from the top. The rickety ladder groans as I put my weight on it.

I think I might lose control of my bladder. Falling into such a deep hole could kill me or leave me too injured to get back out. My urge to attack Virginia is getting stronger.

Don’t be weak. Kill her. You know how to strike a fatal hit she won’t even see coming. It’s her or you.

“No.” I grit my teeth and fight the pull.

“Briar.” Pax sighs, exasperated.

“I’m going,” I grind out.

This isn’t the time to lash out. I have to be smart. As hard as it will be to willingly put myself in a deep hole in the ground, where I’ll be completely helpless, I have to. There are no other choices, with Virginia and Pax both just a few feet away.

I won’t give Virginia the satisfaction of seeing how scared I really am. I won’t beg.

Silently, I climb down the ladder, clinging to the rungs.

It’s dark, the smells of stagnant water and dead vegetation getting stronger as I descend. When I reach the bottom, I step from the ladder into a few inches of standing water.

As soon as I release my hold on the ladder, it’s pulled out of my reach, my lifeline gone.

Leaning my back against the smooth wall, I cross my arms and look down, using all my will to press my lips together as hard as I can. My heart hammers against my rib cage, frenzied.

I’m Ben Hollis’s daughter. I might die down here, but no matter what they do to me, I won’t break.