The Exiles (Book 1 of the Exiles Series)

Twenty-Five

"What? Are you kidding me?!" I exclaimed. Nicole shook her head, her eyes glistening with joy. "No, I'm not kidding," she breathed, looking giddy. "It's here. It's really here! We have to hurry."

I looked at my home longingly. I would probably never set foot in this room ever again. Was there anything I needed? I highly doubted it. From what Magnus had said about the outside world, I knew that we would be well provided for. Magnus. The terrible thought crossed my head for about the thousandth time: we might not ever see one another again. Maybe he's going home with us today, I thought hopefully. Just maybe.

As if reading my thoughts, Nicole looked around the room. "I don't think we need anything," she told me. She turned for the door, and I followed eagerly at her heels. She pushed open the door. But before we could leave, Nicole spun around on her heels to face me.

"Wait," she said, dashing for the chest. "I just need one thing, that's all." Nic flung open the chest, and dug inside until she reached the bottom. Grunting with effort, she finally unearthed the necklace. The necklace. I had nearly forgotten about that.

"Maybe I'll meet the person who gave it to me," she explained, securing it around her neck. I watched her as she did this.

"Do you want to go back to your house?" Nicole asked when she was finished. I shook my head no. My house held no happy memories or items that I desperately needed.

"'Kay," Nicole remarked, going back to the door. "Suit yourself." And finally, this being the absolute last time, Nicole opened the door and trotted outside. I followed at a like pace, and closed the door behind us. It creaked more than usual, as if saying goodbye.

"Off to the beach," Nicole announced, dashing for the canyon exit. She grabbed my hand and pulled me along, and we both ran to the beach as fast as our legs would allow us. Our shadows trailed behind us, dancing and twirling across the grass. We hurried past the desert, leapt across the marsh lands, and jogged through the forest. The air became cooler as we came closer to the beach. I could hear seagulls screaming in the sky. And finally, after we were out of breath and our sides ached, we reached the beach.

The boat looked much different than I had imagined. It was small and silver, probably made out of aluminum or some other reflective metal. A ramp stretched from the side of the boat and to the sand. It was made out of the same material as the boat. For some reason, I had thought the boat was going to be...bigger. Or at least more regal.

A long line stretched from the ramp all the way up the beach. About forty to fifty kids were in line. As we approached, I scanned the line, hoping that Magnus was one of the people waiting. He was not. Maybe he'll come late, I reasoned. A lump was forming in my throat.

As Nicole and I settled in line, my eyes wandered to several people walking on the beach. They looked to be adults, maybe in their thirties or forties, and were all wearing white outfits with some sort of emblem stitched to their breasts. An older man, maybe in his fifties, was standing at the front of the line, holding a clipboard and pencil. He appeared to be the leader.

"C'mon, hurry up!" he was shouting to the workers. They all scrambled towards him, sweaty and out of breath. "Are they scattered?" he asked his workers. They all nodded curtly. I guessed that "they" were the new kids coming to the island.

In fact, as I gazed to the left, I saw a small girl, maybe about twelve years old, lying unconscious on the sand. Her eyelids fluttered in the sunlight. It was like seeing a ghost. This was where I had been dropped off a year ago, in this very spot. Had this newcomer already had her memory wiped?

Suddenly, Nicole tapped me on the shoulder. "Talia," she teased, pointing in front of me. "The line is moving."

I awoke from my thought trance and started forward. The workers had already boarded the boat and were climbing below deck. The first islanders were already on board, trying to find a place to be on the narrow deck. Many of them sat against the railing. The leader guy was checking something off on his clipboard.