Chapter 3

Blake snorted behind me, like he’d just won an argument.

I headed toward the treeline, everyone trailing after.

Noah kept pace at my side and asked under his breath, “You’re sure it was over there?”

“I’m sure.”

Blake raised his voice on purpose so everyone could hear. “Remember this—he said it himself. He’s taking us to the body.”

Someone laughed, the sound sharp under the trees.

More of them looked almost excited, like they’d finally found something to kill time.

I ignored them and kept my eyes on the ground.

I followed the same route I’d taken earlier, pushed through the brush, and led them to the spot where I’d found the corpse.

Then I stopped.

There was nothing.

The body was gone. The ground was just leaf litter, and even the sour stink of blood had thinned out, as if the wind had pulled it away through cracks in the woods.

The footsteps behind me halted all at once. A brief silence settled over the group.

Blake lifted an eyebrow and spoke first. “Where’s the body?”

I didn’t answer. I crouched and studied the ground.

A few hours ago, there had been fresh blood here—wet enough to shine.

Now there was only damp soil, brown like normal earth. Not a trace of dark red.

That fence-sitter guy barked out a laugh. “Marlow, seriously? What is this? You dragged us out here to look at trees?”

The two girls exchanged a glance. The tension on their faces turned into embarrassment. One rolled her eyes. “I told you. He just likes scaring people.”

Blake strolled up beside me, staring down at the empty patch, contempt plain in his voice. “See? Everyone’s busy, and you had to waste time. You said there was a corpse—there’s nothing. Did you drink too much seawater last night? Get salt in your brain?”

His buddy chimed in immediately. “Yeah. If you’re gonna make up stories, at least make them believable.”

The other one was even more blunt. “I said it from the start—don’t listen to him. He just wants everyone following him.”

I stood and swept my gaze through the shadows between the trunks.

The woods were still quiet—too quiet. The kind of quiet that made the hair on your arms want to lift.

Noah offered, trying to be rational. “Maybe an animal dragged it away.”

Blake gave a dismissive snort.

A body doesn’t just vanish. An animal might haul it off, sure, but it wouldn’t erase everything this clean.

There was only one explanation: something was close. And it knew how to hide.

“This isn’t right,” I said.

“The only thing not right here is you,” Blake shot back. He turned to the others and waved them off. “Everyone listen up. Split up. Look for fruit or fresh water. If you find bird eggs, bring them back—we’ll eat better tonight.”

They did what he said and started combing the area for supplies.

That night, no rescue came.

On the beach, we built a crude campfire.

The mocking didn’t stop.

Blake kept talking, loud enough for everyone to hear. “See? He loves stirring people up.”

One of the girls used the moment to aim at me. “Marlow, can you stop making everyone jumpy? If you keep this up, how are we supposed to sleep tonight?”

Someone else echoed her. “Yeah. We’ve already got enough problems.”

Their voices pushed me back into my usual place—on the edge of the group. That feeling was familiar. I’d lived with it for years. But this time it sat differently.

Noah put the satellite phone back together after leaving it in the sun all day. He pressed the power button. The screen flickered twice, showed a weak cursor for a heartbeat—then went dark again.

He clenched his jaw and tried a few more times before finally shaking his head.

“Still nothing,” he said. “Maybe it needs more time to dry out.”

I watched the phone and said nothing. The things we could rely on were shrinking fast, and whatever was wrong with this island felt heavier by the hour.

Darkness came quick. Once the sun dropped, the wall of trees became a deeper, thicker shadow.

Everyone spread plastic sheets and spare clothes over the sand and huddled together for warmth.

One of the girls noticed Kayla curled up with her knees to her chest, shoulders shaking, and asked, “What’s wrong with you? Are you cold?”

Kayla’s voice sounded thin. “Probably a cold… I was in the water too long.”

I remembered someone from the lab—the first stage, if my memory was right, had started with the same thing: cold.

I stared into the darkness beyond the firelight and spoke. “We rotate watch tonight. Two people at a time. Keep the fire going, and don’t let anyone wander off.”

No one answered.

Someone laughed. “A watch? You still acting? Weren’t you the one saying there was something in the woods? Where is it?”

Blake lay back with his arm under his head, relaxed on purpose. “If you’re scared, you take watch. We’re not trading shifts with you.”

A few low laughs followed—short, but sharp.

Noah’s face tightened. He started to speak, but I caught his wrist and shook my head.

Arguing now would only give them a reason to unite against us.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll take it.”

I sat on the outer edge of the firelight.

“Get some sleep,” I told Noah. “If we really rotate, I’ll wake you.”

He wanted to object, but he nodded.

Before he lay down, he looked at me again. There was guilt in his eyes, like he hated that he couldn’t do more.

Time crawled.

The fire popped and cracked.

Breathing around me gradually slowed. Someone turned over. Someone muttered in their sleep.

In the distance, the surf repeated itself with a steady rhythm, mechanical and endless.

Deep into the night, the wind got colder, and the fire sank lower.

I fed two dry pieces of wood into the flames. The light brightened a little. That was when a small sound drifted from the pile of bodies—soft at first, like a bad dream, then sharper.

“Cold…” Kayla’s voice came in broken fragments. “So cold…”

Someone woke up and grumbled, irritated. “Stop it.”

Kayla didn’t. Her teeth began to chatter. She curled tighter, shoulders shaking like a sieve.

Her forehead shone under the firelight in a way that wasn’t normal—slick with sweat.

Blake rolled over, half-opening his eyes, voice thick with sleep and impatience. “You’re talking in your sleep. Shut up.”

Kayla made a stranger sound, a rough inhale like her throat was catching.

Her fingers clawed at the sand, nails packed with grit. Her eyes started to drift, unfocused, and her lips had gone a hard, sickly white. It looked like she was trying to form words, but only broken sounds came out.

Blake pushed himself up a little and reached for her shoulder. “Hey. Wake up—”

The instant his hand touched her, Kayla’s body jerked, violent as an electric shock.

Her head snapped up. In the firelight her pupils blew wide, almost swallowing the color of her eyes.

Something came out of her throat that wasn’t a human sound—an animal rasp, low and pressed tight.

Then she launched herself up.

The movement was too fast for someone with a fever. She lunged straight at Blake.

Screams exploded. Someone shot upright, shrieking. Someone stumbled backward, tripped over another person, and crashed down. A foot kicked the fire, and sparks burst outward, turning everyone’s faces pale in an instant.

Blake’s eyes went wide. He tried to scramble away—but Kayla was already on him, mouth open, teeth gleaming in the firelight like she meant to tear flesh free.

I stood up faster than anyone else.