Chapter 33
“We lost our largest warehouse of food and weapons in the last bombing. There won’t be an ILF headquarters anymore.
It’s too dangerous. Supplies will be scattered throughout our territory.
This is a setback, but our resolve remains stronger than ever.
” – Decoded message from ILF leadership to all members
Briar
My face is getting leaner.
It’s been a while since I looked at my reflection in a mirror, because we don’t have many here. I’ve hardly been doing any training because it burns calories I can’t spare, but between the reduced rations and the sweating we do from just existing here, I’ve lost weight.
I sigh softly at the woman looking back at me in the small bathroom mirror. She’s doing her best, so who cares if she has dark circles under her eyes and tank-top tan lines that are pretty much permanent at this point?
At least I finally got a really good shower. I’ve been taking two-minute showers lately—pretty much just frantic scrub-downs that get me clean. But this evening, I took a longer one, using one of Amira’s salt and coconut oil scrubs, and I even shaved my legs.
I’m toweling myself dry when someone calls my name.
Shit. What now? I wrap the towel around my hair and squeeze out the excess water.
“Briar, are you in here?”
It’s Amira. She’s in the main bathroom area, but I’m in my own stall. This is the only one that has a shower, sink, and mirror all in one private stall, and it’s usually not open.
“I’m in the big stall!”
“Marcus is back!”
I say a silent thank you, my shoulders relaxing.
“I’m on my way!”
I’m dry enough. I quickly dress in clean clothes and race out of the bathroom.
I’ve missed every single thing about him. His voice. His dark caramel eyes. His quiet, steady protectiveness. The warmth of his body wrapped around mine. We hardly had any time together after we finally talked.
Life on Blue Arrow Island is harder than ever. It’s not just our reduced rations, but so many other things. Waiting for Theron to attack. Hoping our garden will regrow quickly despite the volcano’s damage. Trying to keep peace between two groups who have been fighting each other for years.
A jaguar came into camp last night and mauled a Tider.
Aromium made it bold and fearless, and the people who saw it said it looked like it was starving.
It slashed at the man’s chest and one of his arms before being put down by an archer and several Tiders.
The cuts are deep, but Ellison said she thinks he’ll live.
That’s a fitting metaphor for our camp right now. The volcano showed no mercy. We’re all still numb because there hasn’t been time to pause and mourn everyone we lost.
I leave the bathroom and see others going toward the center of camp. A woman runs toward two other women, her eyes wide and her smile bright.
“Cinnamon rolls!” she cries. “Hurry!”
I pinch my brows together and start jogging. Everyone is moving through the center of camp and continuing on to the dock where our supplies are delivered.
Our supplies come monthly on an armored ship, a massive mechanical claw moving the crates from the boat’s deck to our shore. There’s never any human contact.
But when I get to the dock, there are people everywhere. I scan the beach for Marcus, my feet freezing in place when I see what’s happening. Dozens of men in olive-green uniforms are unpacking things from the boat, all of them armed with guns.
The uniforms have New America flag patches on the shoulders. Bile rises in my throat as I frantically search for Marcus.
There he is. My knees weaken with relief when I see him smiling at Wyatt. A soldier passes Wyatt a white box, Wyatt’s eyes widening when he opens it and looks inside.
He takes out a large cinnamon roll, warm frosting dripping to the sand as he takes a huge bite.
I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I trust Marcus. I run toward him, sand flying up beneath my boots.
He’s here. He’s finally, finally here.
When I reach him, I fly into his arms. His body stiffens, then relaxes as he lets out a soft laugh.
“Wow, you smell good,” he says in my ear.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
I close my eyes and take in the feel of my body pressed against his. His body is rock solid, but there’s something soft and tender about being wrapped in his embrace.
When I make myself pull away, I tip my head back so I can meet his eyes. I worried he wouldn’t come back to me and I’d never be able to remember exactly what shade of amber-flecked sage his eyes are. But there they are; I can breathe easy again.
“Want a cinnamon roll?” he asks me.
Not even a little bit. After a week apart, I can’t believe he’s not carrying me to our room right now.
“Maybe later,” I say. “How did it go? Can we go talk somewhere?”
“It went great. I have a lot to do now that I’m back, so I’ll need to talk later.”
Something’s wrong. I can’t figure out what it is.
“Hello.” A woman who looks fortyish, with short brown hair and beady eyes, holds her hand out to me. “I’m Commander Ingrid Voss. And you are?”
I don’t want to answer, but I don’t have much choice. “Briar.”
“Ah, Briar. Of course. Marcus talked about you a lot.”
She looks at him and he grins.
Niran rushes up to us, putting his arms around Marcus in a back-slapping bro hug.
“Finally, man. Shit hit the fan right after you left.”
Marcus looks at Ingrid, who’s frowning.
“What happened?” she asks.
“The volcano exploded. We lost around half the people on the island. Rising Tide’s camp was destroyed. That’s why they’re here.”
Marcus nods, looking thoughtful. “That’s smart. Everyone can work together now.”
A wave of lightheadedness hits me. Marcus is right here, just a few feet away, but something’s off.
I think he’s their prisoner, and acting differently than he normally would is his only way of communicating with us. He can’t tell us something’s not right, so he’s showing us.
“Hello, I’m Commander Ingrid Voss.” She holds her hand out to Niran. “And you are?”
“Niran Merced.”
“Pleased to meet you. Do you want—”
“What in the fuck are they doing here?” Nova cuts off Ingrid’s question, her dark, accusatory gaze locked onto Marcus.
“There’s a lot to talk about,” Marcus says. “I want to call everyone together for a meeting.”
Nova scoffs. “Summarize it for me. You brought a bunch of New America pricks here because ...?”
“We’re here to help,” Ingrid says. “We have food and supplies. Marcus will fill everyone in. Is there a place we can all gather?”
Behind Nova, Adele, Chance, and Breck stand in a line, all of them pointing weapons at the uniformed New Americans. The chatter over the cinnamon rolls has quieted.
“Not you guys,” Nova says. “Only Marcus.”
Marcus draws his brows together. “There’s so much we didn’t know before. Commander Voss generously offered to bring help and supplies to our island. They’re staying. I want to get everyone together for a meeting, and that includes them.”
Nova’s gaze flicks to mine. I don’t know what to do or say. All I can think about is getting Marcus alone so I can at least get some clues about what’s going on.
“Only Marcus,” Nova repeats.
Marcus narrows his eyes slightly, raising his voice when he says, “I’m the leader. It’s my decision. The meeting will be for everyone.”
“Let’s just listen,” I tell Nova.
What choice do we have? There are at least forty armed men with Ingrid. This isn’t the time or place for a confrontation.
Everyone starts to make their way from the beach to the inside of camp, supplies still being unloaded. We desperately need the food, so I’m grateful for that.
But something is very wrong. Marcus would never bring a New America commander here if he had a choice. Between these new troops and Rising Tide, we’re greatly outnumbered now.
Amira’s close by, so I fall into step beside her.
“What the fuck?” she says under her breath.
I keep my expression neutral. “I need you to distract the woman next to Marcus. Now.”
She says nothing, but falls back as everyone else keeps moving. I get closer to Marcus, and within a minute, Amira’s beside Ingrid.
“Hi, I’m Amira,” she says brightly. “It’s so great to see new faces here. What’s going on back home? Are pro sports a thing again yet?”
I take Marcus’s hand, slowing my stride a little.
“It’s so great to have you back,” I say.
“Great to be back.”
“You don’t mind that we let the Tiders in?”
He shrugs. “No, I don’t mind.”
I lower my voice. “Even Pax?”
“I just want to move forward. Commander Voss showed me what they’re doing on her island, and I want to build something just like it here. Life is going to be better for all of us.”
There are so many ways he could communicate that he’s here against his will, but he’s not. Could there be some sort of surveillance device implanted in him?
I study him, trying to figure out what’s off. His hair is shorter, but maybe he got it cut on the other island. He looks the same, but every time he talks, he feels unfamiliar to me.
“I’ve been thinking about our conversation by the waterfall before you left,” I say.
He arches his brows. “Oh yeah?”
“Would you want to finish that conversation sometime?”
In other words, want to have sex later?
“Uh, sure. When I have time. It’s about to get really busy around here.”
A boulder lodges in my stomach. I want to stop walking and demand to know what’s going on. He could communicate something to me now, with a squeeze of my hand or a reference only I would understand. And he’s not.
“Have you seen Athena?” I ask.
His fingers twitch slightly. “Have I? I’m so tired from the trip, I don’t even know.”
I laugh, but an alarm is sounding in my head. Athena is Nova’s call sign. Ingrid got me to say my name, and then got Niran to say his. Marcus didn’t call either of us by our names before that.
A terrifying suspicion is forming. Marcus was on Island Three for a long time. It’s likely that the island is hosting experiments just like ours.
They did something to him. Somehow, they altered his mind or his memories, or maybe both. He doesn’t know me anymore.
The man I know and love is not the one walking beside me. Physically, it’s him, but all the things that make Marcus himself are gone.
Now that I’ve figured out he doesn’t know things he should, other small tells are glaringly obvious. He’s not brooding. His eyes aren’t swimming with ravenous urges to fuck me up against whatever’s in reach. He hasn’t said fuck once.
I fight back the tears welling in my throat. This is so much worse than not knowing when he’d be back. I’m coming apart inside, but I can’t let it show.
Ingrid Voss is taking command of this island. I know that for sure, and I know it’s already too late to stop it. She reprogrammed Marcus’s mind, put him on a boat with a bunch of New America soldiers and some cinnamon rolls, and we let her in without so much as an objection.
Keep your guard up. Be careful who you trust.
Marcus warned me. He didn’t know this would happen, but he wanted me to be on alert for an enemy I couldn’t see coming.
Instead, I fell right into Ingrid’s trap.