Vicious Memories

Chapter 44

I woke to a pure dawn, knowing that last night was an aberration, a tiny bubble of happiness that wouldn't make it through a single day on the island without popping.

The sun snuck little fingers into our cave. The morning was wiped clean by the storm, a thousand different birds chirped their triumph, and before I even opened my eyes I knew it would be a cloudless day.

A single blanket covered us. Alice slept on her side, both hands clasped under her head as a makeshift pillow, a gesture so childish and endearing that I was tempted to let her lie there forever. Unable to help myself, I traced my fingers along her upper body, following the lines of muscles and bones. A dark blue tattoo snaked across her upper ribs in a language I didn't recognize. The word ran in a single line beneath a long thin scar that marred her perfect skin in an all too human way.

She rolled over and and stretched.

"Still feel alive?" I asked.

We looked at each other for a long time. We'd done something last night, crossed some threshold, and it felt right. It was comforting to find something worth treasuring in this godforsaken place. Sunglasses in the sand of a desert - you were still stuck, but at least you had something small to protect yourself. I grappled with new emotions so sharp and powerful that they made everything I'd experienced thus far feel hazy.

"Still breathing," Alice answered.

We stood and dressed. Water dripped from the mouth of the cave into a small puddle, the steady echo beating out a rhythm for our movements. It was impossible not to marvel at the beauty of the jungle outside - the waterlogged leaves and seafoam grass, the radiating color that made the air blur and wave.

"We're northwest of Mount Home," Alice said, "close to the highlands that lead to the cliffs at the northern edge of the island. Mostly unexplored."

"It's beautiful."

"Always has been."

"Hey," I said suddenly. "I'm starving. Is there any food left?"

We ate a few strips of meat and fruit from the pack, stacked the remaining firewood and blankets where we'd found them, and securely looped the axe through the straps of Alice's bag. I wondered if some other harried islander would find and use the supplies we left behind one day.

We left the cave and descended tiers of rock. After the intensity of last night my attention turned back to the problem at hand. People were dying, and they were dying fast. I felt a sense of emptiness return, along with an urgency that made me want to sprint through the trees screaming.

"I'm not ready to go back," I said.

Alice's gaze roved back and forth across the tree-line, looking - always looking - for anything out of place. "What do you expect to find?"

"I don't know. Nothing... something. I just don't want to give up. We came all this way, Shana is dead, and whoever killed her is gone. We have nothing. What if her murderer is hiding just around the corner?"

"There aren't any corners. It's a jungle."

"Oh for god's sake," I said, throwing my arms up. "Now you have a sense of humor?"

Alice smiled, but it didn't touch her sad eyes. "I've always had a sense of humor."

"Fine. What if they're hiding in the next group of trees?"

"The rest of the village will be waiting for us by now. If we don't get back soon, they'll send out a search party, which will put more people in danger."

"They'll wait until midday, at least. Gabriel and Arun said that was the protocol."

The trees before us whined, branches shifting, the wind whispering through the leaves, sharing secrets about unpredictable tide shifts and lonely monkeypod trees. Alice shifted her weight from foot to foot, a habit I suspected she had picked up from me, and tucked her short hair back behind her ears.

"Okay," she said. "We have a couple of hours, then we have to start back. It's four hours back to the village if we jog most of the way."

"Then we'll jog."

Nature murmured around us as we plunged back into the shade of the jungle canopy. I wondered if the village had gone ahead and buried Shana in the middle of the storm last night. If they had gone ahead, who had spoken on Shana's behalf with Alice gone? Gabriel, maybe. Or Bev.

We tacked north, toward the area least explored by the villagers; if someone was hiding out, or if there was something to find, it would stand to reason that the least explored area would be the likeliest place to find it. That's where I would have gone, at least.

The land sloped upward and the grass grew longer, tickling our shins and knees with every swishing stride. Sunlight refracted off the wet world around us, throwing spears of gold in every direction. Two hours passed quicker than a drunken fight song. Mount home receded to the south as we neared the northern edge of the island. A series of switchbacks revealed themselves, weaving unsteadily up the hill before us. According to Alice, the land continued for another quarter mile from the top before ending in jagged cliffs.

"It's time. We have to go back."

"Shit." I looked around. "Shit."

"There's nobody out here, Ollie. Whoever killed Shana is gone."

I slapped my hand against the trunk of a nearby tree in frustration.

"To where? Where would they have gone? We're operating on the assumption that the killer is in the village, right? If that's the case, then who killed Shana? Nobody at the lake had the opportunity, which means that somebody from the village circled around, killed her, disappeared, then presumably got back to the village before the others returned and realized they were missing. Either that, or it's like I told Gabriel and Arun and we can't assume any of the murders are connected. If that's the case it's likely that one of the Strangers killed her, and then we're well and truly fucked."

Alice put a hand on my arm. Her touch was still electric.

"We've been pretty fucked since we woke up with no memories," she said softly. "This is just something else we have to deal with. And don't forget, the Strangers have killed some of us for no reason before. What you're saying isn't that far fetched, and it wouldn't change the fact that we still have to find Jessica and Sirus's killer."

I shook my head, fighting against the rationality of her words.

All the murders had to be connected. They had to be. Why else would they begin right after I arrived? Why else would I have found those words carved into the trunk of a tree? Why, why, why, my mind continued to ask, ignoring how conceited it was to think that all of this could possibly revolve around me.

"A hundred more yards," I said. "Just to the base of that hill. There's a big rise behind the trees that looks like a good spot to camp. Then we can turn back."

Alice flicked her eyes in that direction, staring out from a face covered in dirt and dust.

"It's just fifteen minutes," I pressed.

She shrugged, settling back into her customary silence.

My legs burned as we reached the top of the small rise. The switchbacks that led up to the highlands flashed in and out of view. Our boots squelched through the mud as the forest pressed in close around us, blocking out light, dropping thick vines and branches in our path. We were forced to shove through a dense line of massive trees and undergrowth. Sharp-edged leaves left angry red lines on our forearms as we slapped them aside.

With one final push I emerged from the vegetation and the land opened up. I stopped in my tracks.

Alice ran directly into my back. "Ow," she hissed. "What the hell?"

I didn't answer. I didn't even register that she'd asked a question.

She came around my left side and stopped right next to me.

"Oh," she said. "That."