Chapter 16
One hard push to my chest and water explodes from my nose and the gaps in my stitched mouth like a broken fountain.
My lungs dragging in air as my eyes spring open. I’m rolled onto my side, wheezing so hard it feels like my ribs might crack, more seawater spilling out in bursts.
“Thank God you’re alive,” Mattie’s voice comes from beside me, heavy with relief, her hand rubbing roughly between my shoulder blades. “I thought I lost you.”
When the choking finally stops, I realize there’s sand plastered over my skin—gritty, damp and sticking to every inch of me. The rain trickles over us, washing it away in thin, muddy trails.
“I didn’t know your mouth was…” she points to her own, an uneasy look in her eyes.
My arms tremble as I push myself upright, every muscle objecting.
“I’m not sure where we are,” she says, like she’s answering a question I would have asked, her gaze flicking toward the dark stretch of sea. “It looks like we’re on some kind of strange island.”
I lift my head higher, blinking through the haze of rain and tears until my gaze catches on a shape in the far distance—the ship.
The same one we fell from is now a shadowy silhouette against the night sky, leaving us behind.
I notice a few women are sitting on the sand close by, knees pulled tight to their chests, faces buried in their hands.
But far out in the sea, I spot bodies still wrapped in plastic, floating on the waves.
On the shore, others are already washed up, the tide dragging them in and out like they can’t even settle on death.
My stomach coils tight as I get up on shaky legs, then start running before I can even think properly.
The wet sand gives under me, dragging at my feet, but I keep going anyway, scanning and searching, until I see a body smaller than the rest. Much smaller.
My pulse spikes instantly, turning sharp and uneven as I sprint harder. I skid to a stop beside it, dropping to my knees.
My hands are on the plastic in a second, and I start tearing at it frantically, fingers slipping, struggling against the wet layers as I pull them back, one after another. Like speed alone can undo what I already know is coming.
No, no, no.
The layers cling stubbornly, like it doesn’t want to give her up, but red hair starts to show through first, soaked and tangled.
Then her face comes into focus more and more, until there’s nothing left between us except that final layer concealing her features.
I freeze as soon as I catch her green eyes, wide open and staring up at the sky, glazed over with death.
My hands stop moving, but I don’t let go. I can’t.
Swallowing hard, more tears escape, and I continue to gently peel away the last piece of plastic, revealing her ghostly face beneath it.
Her skin is pale, almost waxen in the cold light, her lips a bright, unnatural blue.
Behind me, I hear Mattie stop, her presence suddenly still as I stare at the red-haired girl for a moment longer.
The weight of her death settles inside me, heavy and suffocating, the kind of sorrow that doesn’t arrive all at once, but sinks in deep to creep up on you later.
I couldn’t save her. Fuck, I promised her…
My vision blurs again as I lift a trembling hand, reach out, and place my fingers over her eyes, closing them in one final motion and goodbye.
“We need to get off this island!” a woman screeches from somewhere behind us, her voice raw with fright.
I slowly turn my head and see her tearing at her dark hair, ripping strands out by the root as she struggles through a full-blown breakdown.
My brows pinch together before I give the girl beneath me one last, lingering glance, then force myself to stand.
Brushing the sand from my knees, Mattie and I make our way toward the small group of gathered women.
Two try to calm her down, speaking over one another in hushed, urgent voices, while another stands back, hugging herself against the cold.
“Where do you expect us to go?” one of them calls out as we approach.
The woman shakes her head hysterically, her eyes darting toward the treeline before snapping back again. She takes another step away from it, edging closer to the water as if the ocean is somehow the safer option.
“Anywhere but here.”
Mattie exchanges a confused look with me before glancing around at the beach.
“Why?” Mattie asks, concern laced in her tone.
The woman suddenly lifts her arm and shoves her wrist toward us, and I squint, leaning forward.
Burned into her skin there’s a circle with the jagged letters N and I inside it.
A strange feeling settles in my stomach before I raise my own wrist and stare down at it.
The same mark is burned into my skin.
“I've been trafficked my entire life,” the woman sobs, her bottom lip quivering. “And the stories I've heard about this place... Nothing has ever terrified me more than Ninth Isle.”
Suddenly, a rumble of thunder splits through the black sky, and her wild eyes drags down to the sand as if she’s becoming lost in her mind, seeing something we can’t.
“I thought they were just made up horror stories they told us when we were little girls…”
Mattie takes a cautious step forward.
“What’s Ninth Isle?”
The woman glances toward the trees again, her entire frame tensing.
“Here, you’ll face every single one of your darkest fears head-on.”
She shakes her head, quick and panicky, backing farther into the surf as fear floods her expression.
“I’d rather die.”
Before anyone can stop her, she unexpectedly turns and sprints toward the ocean.
My eyes widen and I immediately bolt after her. But she crashes through the waves, stumbling and fighting against the violent current as she pushes deeper and deeper into the powerful water.
Within seconds she’s engulfed by the gray chaos of the sea, her dark figure growing smaller and smaller until I can’t see her anymore.
I halt at the shoreline, waves crashing into my legs hard enough to nearly knock me off balance, icy water surging around my knees like it’s trying to drag me out after her.
My eyes skim the surface desperately, searching for any sign of her, but there’s nothing.
Just water, waves, and the horrible realization that she might have meant every word she said.
Suddenly, Mattie grabs my wrist and yanks me backward toward safety.
“We can’t be out here. What if they notice we’re gone?” she says, worry carving deep lines into her brow.
My eyes drift back to the treeline, lingering there for a moment, and now it seems to sit unnaturally still beneath the storm, its dense canopy shrouded in shadow, concealing whatever secrets or horror that lies beyond it.
For a second, I imagine things watching from between the trunks, waiting patiently for us to make the wrong move, but I force myself to look away and meet Mattie’s gaze instead.
“I think she’s just lost her mind, you know?” she says, trying to sound reassuring. “Everyone here has just been through a lot.”
I draw in a slow breath through my nose and give a hesitant nod.
Because what choice do we have but to move forward? We can’t stay on this damn beach.
There must be a way off this island.
That woman is gone, swallowed by the sea along with any answers she might have had, and standing here dwelling on her words won’t change that.
We'll just have to be keep going and be careful.
Passing Mattie, I make my way toward the other women gathered nearby. There are only three of them now, standing in a loose cluster on the sand, their damp dresses clinging to their skin, their faces hollow with exhaustion and trauma.
“We need to stick together,” Mattie says, her voice quiet but firm.
And for a moment, none of them respond, they just stare at us.
“No running off on your own, no matter what,” she continues. “Whatever this place is, we’re stronger together than we are apart. If someone comes for us, they’re going to have to deal with all of us at the same time.”
The words sound more confident than any of us actually feel, because inside, I’m just as terrified as they are, maybe more. But someone had to say it. Someone has to act like there’s still a plan that's going to work.
The wind whips through the beach, carrying the scent of salt, rain and something far darker as silence settles over the group.
One by one, the women exchange uneasy glances before giving small, shuddering nods in agreement.
Not because they’re convinced or because Mattie has magically made them feel safe, but because, right now, sticking together is the only thing any of us have left.