Page 21 of Blue Arrow Island (Blue Arrow Island #1)

We train differently than recreational shooters. When you’re in a high-stress situation, your body enters fight-or-flight mode. Fine motor skills slip and your heart rate spikes. You may even experience auditory exclusion and not even hear your own gunshots.

- Excerpt from a transcript of a police academy course taught by Ben Hollis

“Briar, can you hear me?”

Droplets of water splash onto my face. I gasp and try to sit up, but everything hurts—even breathing. Best not to move, then.

“I’m here.” A hand slides around mine. “It’s Amira. You have to hold on.”

Hold on. To what? There’s nothing but pain and exhaustion, and I can’t take any more.

“Nova, get me a bridge.” The first voice that spoke to me is back, and it belongs to a female.

“Don’t, Nova.” A man’s deep voice. “She’s beyond saving, and she’s not coming to our camp.”

There’s a scoff, and the first woman’s voice returns. “Who put you in charge of medical decisions, Marcus?”

“You make medical decisions for our people, but she’s a Tider. We don’t save those assholes.”

“That’s not fair,” Amira says. “How is it her fault they grabbed her instead of you guys?”

“This is my call,” Marcus’s tone is decisive. “We’re not bringing a Tider into our camp.”

“Nova, the bridge, please,” the first woman says.

“I said no, Ellison,” Marcus’s voice is low and ominous.

After a few seconds, he speaks again. “Nova, don’t give her that fucking bridge. Don’t you—damn it!”

I feel a tiny prick in my arm. I think I just got a shot.

“She’s lost a lot of blood. I don’t know if this will be enough to get her back, but I have to try.”

“Thank you, Ellison,” Amira says.

“You can treat her here, but she’s not coming into our camp.”

I manage to open my eyes, and Marcus’s face is the first one that comes into focus. His brows are drawn down and he’s holding a bow, an arrow nocked. He’s looking in every direction, prepared to shoot if he needs to.

Whatever was in that shot is powerful. Pure energy is flowing through my body. I glance at the spot where I felt the poke and then at the woman kneeling next to me.

She has long, light-brown hair with a few silver pieces woven in. Her brown eyes are crinkled at the corners in an expression that’s both worrying and reassuring at the same time.

“Briar, I’m Ellison. I gave you a bridge, which is a shot we use to get people from the field into our camp after serious injuries. You’ve lost a lot of blood. Do you know where you are?”

I glance around, half expecting to see Virginia running at us with a spear. “Blue Arrow Island.”

“That’s right.”

“We’re not doing this,” Marcus says hotly. “It’s too risky.”

Ellison ignores him, her gaze still focused on me.

“We don’t have much time. When you were brought here on the boat, you were injected with a very small device.

The device contains a compound called blue aromium.

A flower that grows on this island is the base of that compound, and the flower is bright blue.

That’s why this is called Blue Arrow Island.

Soren Whitman has a team of scientists who created it. ”

My heart races as I look at Amira. I hardly know her, but she saved my life when she didn’t have to, so I trust her.

“It’s true,” she says softly.

Marcus speaks in a low tone, still checking in every direction and ready to fire an arrow if needed. “They’ve got a bunch of fours out here looking for her, you guys. We can’t stay here.”

Concern floods Ellison’s eyes. “You have a decision to make, Briar, and you have to make it quickly. Your injuries are serious, and the aromium will help you heal faster. We can leave you here, or you can come back to our camp, where I can treat you and you’ll be safe from Virginia.

But I’ll have to deactivate your implant before we go there.

Our camp is protected against aromium and you’d die if you tried to come in with the implant activated. ”

Marcus hums his disapproval, shaking his head. They all look at me for a long second, waiting. Amira, Marcus, Ellison and Nova. I recognize Nova from the waterfall. A sheen of sweat shines on her dark, defined muscles.

“I can’t go back there,” I murmur.

“What were those vines that wrapped around Virginia?” Amira asks. “Are they alive?”

Marcus’s scowl turns even darker. “We can’t do this right now. If those Tiders find us, we’re dead.”

I shoot him a wary look as I sit up, cringing from the aches all over my body. “You’re the ones who kill them.”

Nova speaks for the first time. “We need your decision.”

Her voice is deep and warm, like dark honey. It’s soothing and authoritative at the same time.

“Come with us,” Amira urges. “They lied to you. You can’t survive out here alone.”

I survey my leg and my shoulders sink. Virginia buried her spear in my thigh, leaving a gaping hole. My pants are covered in blood.

There’s no way I can clean and treat this wound myself. I don’t think I could even walk right now. It didn’t seem like things could get any worse than they were in the bottom of that hole, but this...yeah, it’s worse.

“How far is it?” I ask. “I don’t know if I can walk.”

“Make your choice.” Marcus’s bark is laced with anger.

There is no choice. Virginia isn’t putting me back in that hole if she catches me. She’s going to kill me. She almost did—it was only those thick vines shooting out of the jungle that stopped her.

“I’ll go with you.” I put a palm on the ground, leaning on it when a wave of dizziness hits.

Marcus exhales heavily through his nose, scowling at me. He takes a black device from a holster strapped around his shoulder and chest. It’s not much bigger than a deck of cards.

He shoots a glare at Nova. “When shit goes south, remember I tried to stop this.”

“Deactivating aromium is never a bad thing,” she says smoothly.

“Not that.” His eyes lock onto hers. “Bringing her into our camp.”

He looks at me, disgust and frustration swirling in his moss-green eyes. “Get on your left side.”

Ellison glares at him. “She’ll get dirt in her wound. Pick her up.”

Marcus passes the device to her, inclining his chin at Nova. “Get her right side.”

Marcus and Nova put their arms around me and lift. I’m as limp as a rag doll, too weak to help at all. My leg wound hurts like hell, but I press my lips together, refusing to let it show.

“This will just take a second,” Ellison says. “It won’t hurt, but you’re going to feel weaker once the aromium is inactive.”

She puts the device over my right hip and after a couple of seconds, I hear a beep.

“Done,” she says.

Weaker? My life force pours out of me in an invisible flood. My head throbs and my leg feels like it’s on actual fire. What hurt before hurts a hundred times more now. I can barely keep my eyes open.

I droop, letting out a pained moan, and Marcus puts his free arm behind my knees to scoop me up.

“This is a mistake.” His voice is clipped.

My head is cradled against his broad, hard shoulder. Even though he’s helping me, I want to argue with him. To not be reliant on someone who would rather leave me here to die.

But I’m powerless. I give up the fight to stay awake and let myself sink into unconsciousness.

“You don’t have to watch her, you know. She’s hardly a threat in her condition.”

“You don’t know that.”

I recognize the voices. Ellison and Marcus. My eyelids are heavy, but I force them open.

I’m in a dimly lit room. Lying on a bed. There are machines behind me and cabinets along the walls, medical supplies lined neatly on the countertops. It feels like a hospital room.

Ellison is standing at the foot of the bed, a clipboard in hand, and Marcus is sitting on a chair along the wall, his elbows on his knees and something in his hands I can’t make out in the darkness of the room.

“She’s awake.” Marcus straightens his spine.

His shoulders and thighs are so wide that he doesn’t look comfortable in the metal chair.

“Hey, Briar.” Ellison walks over to my bedside, smiling softly. “How are you feeling?”

I swallow against the dryness in my throat, trying to sit up. “Where are we?”

It comes out as a croak.

“At our camp.”

I furrow my brow, confused. “It’s not hot.”

Her smile widens. “Not here, but most of the camp is. Do you want some water?”

I nod. “Thanks.”

She goes over to the counter to pour water from a pitcher. Marcus stands and comes over to the bed, his scowl milder than before but still in place.

“Where did you get this?” He holds up the knife I found in the cave.

My lips part with surprise. I’m fully awake now. “That’s mine. Give it back.”

“No, it’s not.” A muscle in his clean-shaven jaw tics. “Tell me where you got it.”

Ellison comes over with a cup of water. The cup is carved from wood, the swirling grains and smooth surface making it look like a work of art.

“Not now, Marcus,” she says, passing me the cup. “She needs to rest.”

“Give me my knife.” I mean for my voice to be strong and sure, but it comes out wobbly and emotional.

When I picked up that knife, I felt safer for the first time since I set foot in this tropical hell. It’s a real weapon. The only thing I have to protect myself.

“Did you see someone?” Marcus demands, his voice rising with anger. “Did someone give this to you?”

I slide myself into a sitting position, the pain in my leg much better than it was before. “I don’t owe you anything. You took something from me, and I want it back.”

He lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “You left it on the ground. Amira picked it up and brought it back. And it’s very fucking important that you tell me where you got this.”

“Why?”

His expression clouds with wariness. I use the silence to drink my water, trying to look unbothered.

But the truth is I’m in a vulnerable position. I’m defenseless, and once again, at the mercy of a man. And this man doesn’t want me here.

“Can I see Amira?” I ask Ellison.

She says, “Sure,” at the same time Marcus says, “No.”

Ellison arches her brows. “Why not?”

His gaze remains focused on me as he answers. “Not until after she’s been questioned.”

My pulse thrums with worry, the pounding reaching my ears. “Am I a prisoner?”

“No,” Ellison says.

“You’re not a prisoner, but the safety of our people comes first and I don’t know a damn thing about you,” Marcus says. “You’ll be under guard until you’ve been questioned.”

“We’re not them, Marcus,” Ellison murmurs.

He turns to look at her. “I let you guys bring her here. But now we’re doing this my way.”

“She’s on painkillers and she still needs rest.”

He nods. “She can rest as long as she needs to. But when she’s ready, I’m questioning her.”

“I want my knife back.” Fatigue is tugging at my eyelids, so I lie down again.

He ignores me, sitting back down with the knife still in his hands. Clearly, he thinks someone gave me that knife, and I doubt I’ll be able to convince him otherwise.

But I’m not even going to try until I’m off this medication and able to think straight.