Page 22 of Blue Arrow Island (Blue Arrow Island #1)

This place is a true natural wonder. The colors are more vibrant than words can describe. It’s remote, isolated and virtually untouched by man. For my purposes, it’s perfect.

- Excerpt from the journal of Dr. Randall McClain

It takes another three days for me to be able to stay on my feet for more than a few minutes at a time. I’ve been walking around my small room, drinking a lot of water, eating all the food Ellison brings me, and sleeping a lot.

I’m more confused than ever because not only do the Dust Walkers have medicine and electricity, but the food here is incredible.

I get three meals a day. Breakfast is usually oatmeal with fruit and nuts and a piece of buttered toast. One morning, I even got scrambled eggs.

I’ve had spicy fish and vegetable stew, grain porridge, and fresh fruit for lunch, and grilled meat and fish with vegetables, grains, and bread on the side for dinner.

How do they have so much food when the people on the other side of the island are starving? How do they have eggs, oatmeal, and butter that tastes freshly churned?

More than once, I’ve questioned Ellison about whether we really are on the island. For all I know, they could have knocked me out and taken me somewhere else. The pieces just don’t fit together.

“Ready?” Ellison comes into my room, smiling warmly.

This morning, she took me to a bathroom a few doors down from my room, where I took a cool shower.

They have composting toilets, so I don’t think there’s a sewage system, but they seem to have plumbing.

There was tile on the shower floor and real soap and shampoo in the shower.

I even got to shave my legs with a razor.

I brushed my teeth with an actual toothbrush and toothpaste for a solid ten minutes.

I’m dressed in the clean clothes Ellison left for me. The lightweight gray pants and light blue T-shirt are much more comfortable than my Rising Tide clothes were. She also left me a clean bra, underwear and socks, and a pair of lightweight hiking boots in my size.

This is the cleanest and most comfortable I’ve been in a long time. Marcus seems like a real dick, but Ellison has been nothing but great to me. I’m still not sure about this place, but I’m hoping to see Amira soon and find out what she knows.

But first, I have to get through questioning by Marcus. Ellison leads me from my room, a man following us. The hallway we’re walking down has a concrete floor, and there are simple light fixtures on the walls illuminating our path. The cool air reminds me of being inside a cave.

We reach the door at the end of the hallway and Ellison turns, sighing heavily.

“I’m sorry, but you have to be blindfolded until we get to where we’re going.”

My eyes bulge with alarm. “Blindfolded?”

She purses her lips, her expression apologetic. “I promise I’ll be with you the entire time you’re blindfolded. This is just for the walk to get there.”

My heart pumps faster as the man behind us moves closer, a black cloth in his hands.

“This is Vance,” Ellison says. “Vance, this is Briar.”

Vance has shaggy strawberry-blond hair and a beard. His build is average and he’s about six feet tall. Based on the blank look he’s giving me, he’d rather be elsewhere.

Vance nods at me. “You ready?”

“I don’t want to be blindfolded.” I give Ellison a pleading look. “Can’t I just close my eyes?”

She takes my hand. “I won’t let go until the blindfold comes off. I promise.”

I still don’t like it, but I nod anyway. Ellison patiently fed me when I was too weak to feed myself. She’s cleaned and checked my leg wound every day and made sure I have enough medication to keep the pain at bay. I trust that she doesn’t want to hurt me.

Vance puts the blindfold around my eyes, tying it securely behind my head. Ellison squeezes my hand and I hear the door in front of us being opened.

“It’s not very far,” she says. “We’ll be there in less than five minutes.”

A sense of dread coils in my belly as I walk beside Ellison. My breathing is shallow and I have to force myself to swallow, my mouth like sandpaper. I’m at the mercy of the Dust Walkers. It’s terrifying to be completely in the dark, not knowing whether someone is coming at me with a weapon.

“You’re okay,” Ellison says in a soothing voice. “We’re walking through a room, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Then why am I blindfolded? There’s something here they don’t want me to see. And on this island, where the laws of science don’t always apply, that’s a terrible feeling.

“We’re about to go through another door,” Ellison says.

She waits, and there’s a buzzing sound that makes me jump.

“That’s the sound of the door being unlocked for us,” she murmurs.

I hear her turn the handle and push it open, and then she leads me through. Vance follows, and the door closes behind him.

We’re walking down another hallway. I’m not sure how I know but it feels like a hallway. It’s completely quiet, not a sound in the space other than the hum of a light fixture.

“How close are we?” I clutch Ellison’s hand, my own getting sweaty.

“Very close. Hang in there.”

About ten seconds later, she stops and pounds on a door. It sounds like solid metal. This place feels like a secure military base.

“Come in,” a deep voice calls from inside.

Ellison opens the door and leads me through the doorway. I hear the door close, and then the blindfold is pulled away from my eyes.

“You okay?” she asks me with a smile.

I nod, releasing her hand.

We’re in a room much like the one I recovered in. It has concrete walls and no windows. There are two light fixtures in the ceiling, but the room still isn’t brightly lit.

Filing cabinets line one wall of the room. There’s a desk against another wall, a chair pushed into it. The space is dominated by a long wooden conference table that could easily seat twenty.

Across from me, on one long side of the table, Marcus and Nova are sitting. My knife is sitting on the table in front of Marcus, in its leather sheath. There’s a pitcher of water and several wooden cups off to the side.

Marcus gestures at the chairs in front of me. “Sit.”

I look at Ellison, wary. She gives me a reassuring smile.

“I won’t be staying. I’ll see you soon, though.”

I nod and slide into a metal chair, taking a deep breath. As soon as the door closes behind Ellison, I fight the urge to jump up and run after her.

“So you’re feeling better,” Marcus says.

It’s a statement, not a question.

He’s offensively attractive. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a more perfect combination of masculine features. It’s off-putting. An asshole like him doesn’t deserve to look that good.

Today he’s wearing a plain gray T-shirt, his biceps and chest straining against the fabric. His dark hair is perfectly tousled, a few pieces hanging over his forehead.

His chiseled jaw and high cheekbones would be classically handsome, but his serious scowl and the small scar on one side of his neck balance him out in a rugged way.

At around six-four, he once again doesn’t really fit in the chair he’s sitting in. He has an imposing presence, but I won’t let my intimidation show.

“Did you have a question?” I ask sharply.

The corners of Nova’s lips quirk in a smile. She’s also striking, her dark skin flawless and her hair stubble short. There are precise lines cut into it down to her scalp, the pattern swirling around her ears. She’s wearing a simple silver hoop in her septum and her dark lashes are long and thick.

“Tell us about your life before the virus,” Nova says.

I don’t know what that has to do with anything. It feels like she wants to get a baseline of how I behave when I’m telling the truth. Part of me wants to lie, but I don’t. Too many lies get hard to keep track of.

“I was a college student.”

“And how did you survive the virus?”

“I was an intern for a research project on an island off the coast of Washington state. We were isolated and when we heard about the virus, we were able to shelter in place.”

“What were you studying?”

“The effects of ocean acidification on shellfish.” I shift in my seat, looking between the two of them. “What does this have to do with anything?”

“What was the crime that got you sent here?” Marcus asks.

His expression is stony. This guy is a brick wall, physically and emotionally.

I hold up my hands, palms facing me, and let the ink answer for me.

“Can I get a verbal answer?”

I narrow my eyes. “I drank wild ginger tea so I wouldn’t get pregnant. And I got caught.”

He studies me for a few silent seconds. “That’s it? I’ve never heard of anyone getting sent here for that.”

“Guess I’m special.”

No fucking way am I telling him about Lochlan. I’m going to say as little as possible.

“What was your job assignment at Rising Tide?” Nova asks.

“Kitchen.”

Marcus’s nostrils flare slightly; it’s so subtle that I almost miss it.

“What kinds of food did you prepare?” Nova rests her elbows on the table, steepling her fingers.

It’s such a stretch to call what we served at Rising Tide food. “At first, there was fruit. Some smoked fish. But after the hurricane...” I shake my head. “Bugs? Algae?”

Something holds me back from mentioning that the Tiders are eating their own people.

“Tell us everything you saw and experienced in the camp,” Nova says.

I shake my head. “Look, I’ve been cooperative. I appreciate what you guys have done for me, but I have questions, too.”

“You’ll have an opportunity to ask questions.”

“Yeah, which you guys may or may not answer.” I cross my arms. “You want answers from me, you give me some answers first.”

Marcus’s expression remains impassive. “What do you want to know?”

“Where are we? Are we still on the island?”

“Yes, you’re at our camp.”

“How do you have electricity and plumbing?”

He considers before answering. “The camp was built with them.”

I glare at him. “You know what I mean. Were you guys brought here on a boat as prisoners, too? How do you know about aromium?”