I waited, knowing that I didn't yet understand the full picture.
To the northwest of the village, beyond the rotting logs of the deadwoods, lay an area of jungle called the hard forest. A stretch of flat land that had been completely overtaken by a massive oak not found anywhere else on the island, the hard forest was a source of fantastic lumber. Left unchecked, the trees grew to absolutely incredible heights.
They toward the sky like brown skyscrapers, unfurling great umbrellas of green leaves, draped with long ropes of thick branches. The trees grew with several yards of space between them, allowing the open air to fill with golden light and fresh breezes.
I forced myself to take long, slow breaths, trying my hardest not to let my emotions get the better of me. This would only work if I kept a level head.
I replayed the evidence over and over in my mind, going over the murders, the clues, the motives. I cycled through the people who had the opportunity, the list of alibis, the means... In the end I had the who and the how, but I still didn't have the why, and that troubled me most of all. The why was the most dangerous part.
After my conversation with Alice, I'd picked up my notebook, scribbled a letter, and ripped it out. Folding it twice, I'd circled the caves a few times, stopped in a couple of places, then taken a circuitous route across the stream, through the deadwoods, and to this very spot.
The trepidation I felt was a physical illness, starting in my mind but spreading to my heart. It hitched a ride through my veins to the ends of my arms and the bottoms of my legs. Self-doubt gripped with steel talons. Even if I was right, there would still be a piece missing from the puzzle. Perhaps more than one.
Maybe we were destined never to find any answers. Maybe we would just live out our days here until we died of old age or succumbed to the island.
Or maybe not.
A snapped twig made me jump. Someone hissed a curse.
I waited until the newcomer stepped hesitantly into the clearing, looking left and right anxiously.
I rose to my feet and nodded.
In response he just brushed his hands off against the thighs of his pants.
"Hello, Felix."
YOU ARE READING
Vicious Memories
Mystery / ThrillerTHE MAZE RUNNER for ADULTS --- Things Oliver doesn't know: How he washed up on this island. What the blank keycard in his pocket opens. Who he murdered. When Oliver wakes up he's drowning in the surf, with no memory of who or where he is. Before he...
