Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
“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.
19
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.