{Book 1/3 of The Quarantine Series}
8 teenagers. One abandoned island.
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An unknown calamity leaves eight teenagers stranded on a mysterious and remote island. Confused and distraught, they must find a way to work together, in order get off the is...
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Olivia Clarke
{Editing Status: Unedited}
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Metal bars. Panic filled my chest and my once calm breaths turned into hyperventilation. I looked around, my eyes blurred. Pristine walls surrounded me, but the metal bars in front of me scared me the most. They locked me inside wherever I was; I was a prisoner. I wasn't completely sure how I had gotten into this small white room; my memory was obscured from finding out how I had gotten here. My legs were shaky as I got to my feet. There was blackness beyond the metal bars, and then I wondered: am I dreaming? I wanted to be dreaming. This would make more sense if it were in a dream. I felt a shock of pain in my neck, below my left ear and my hand flew to it in shock. There was a small bump where I had felt the pain. The panic changed to pure terror as I crumbled to the ground, falling back into the black unconsciousness that I had once been in.
My eyes fly open in shock, and dart around, desperately hoping that I am no longer in that white room. Relief fills me as the sun floods my vision. I close my eyes for a few minutes, letting the sun warm my face. Just a dream, I think to myself. The first thing I do when I climb to my feet is grab my homemade spear; I feel calmer and more protected when it is with me. I know it isn't much, but it is better than nothing, and it has protected me against one of those monsters at least.
I survey the scene in front of me. Saige is sitting with her legs crossed in the distance, her eyes closed, and muttering to herself. Her long blonde hair is flowing behind her in the wind. Ryan is pacing in the distance, biting his thumb with an intense look on his face, and Lauren is looking at him like she is waiting for him to say something. Quinn is throwing her own spear at a tree and hitting the target every single time. I wonder how long I had been sleeping. It seems like all I do is sleep; the heat makes me feel drowsy and exhausted all the time. I need to do something productive. Our goal of escaping this island isn't tangible yet, but we need it to be. It feels like we have been on this island for months, and even though we have only been on this island for almost a week, we still haven't made any progress on finding ways to get off it.
I walk sluggishly (still tired from sleeping) up to Saige and touch her shoulder. She opens her eyes slowly and looks up at me. There are heavy, blue bags under her eyes. Saige, on the other hand, is struggling to sleep at all.
