“The boys will fix the cabin in the afternoon. It’s been damaged by the storm, but it will do for now,” Maddy explains.
And soon, it’s time for lunch.
It’s buffet-style. The two or three dishes are cooked and put in big bowls that everyone helps themselves out of. No fancy dishes. It’s some type of fish ceviche with corn empanadas or pancakes or whatever they call it. They eat a lot of fish, which is fine by me. I can eat pretty much anything.
Every table has a bowl with fruit. Oranges, bananas, mangos, coconuts. Maddy explains that they get a lot of fruit. Nothing is wasted. They make juices and smoothies as much as they can. They press coconuts to make oil.
This weirdly reminds me of survivor camp trips my dad and I used to take. Except, exotic fruit sounds better than acorns or wild berries.
I study the crew as everyone eats and jokes. It’s refreshing—as if the pristine white beach and the emerald jungle are a natural mood enhancement.
Except for Dani. The girl is sulking like she has a bee up her ass.
And Callie. She is smiling now—a good sign. But her eyes dart to that boy who found us on the beach last night.
Kai.
He is a walking piece of art. A gang member at first sight, but he doesn’t have that rough-around-the-edges attitude. It’s in his face that, when relaxed, is pleasant and friendly. In the way he moves, calm and confident, with no snappiness, except when Callie is around.
Yeah, Callie. There is a story there. Why does he keep glaring at her like she poisoned his fucking food?
After lunch, everyone washes the dishes in buckets of water, then wipes them clean. It’s a commune. I smile as I follow the rest.
And then I stroll to the beach.
The sun is relentless, the hot sand scorching my feet. The water is refreshing, and I want to take a dip.
I scan the horizon as I toss the sandals Maddy gave me, strip down to my new bikini, and step into the water. It’s warm. It feels like back in Thailand on Koh Samui where Dad and I flew now and then.
I dive underwater, cut the waves, come up for air, and shake my hair.
There are rocks on each side of the beach, and more of them protrude from the water in the distance. The water is beautiful, like one of those Maldives pictures. I dive right into the wave, glide underwater for some time, then rise to the surface past the first break.
It feels fantastic! The end of the world has its perks.
I swim farther away from the shore, though Maddy said to watch out for rocks.
Screw that. You don’t try—you don’t learn.
I study the water surface.
That’s why there is no major port here. No access. I remember the map. This side of the island is rocky. They have a big motor boat and a small fishing one. I guess they know how to navigate them around the rocky patches.
Maddy said there is a dirt road that goes north along the coast and reaches the town and the one that goes south, curving to the Westside. The Westside has ATVs, guns, and cameras. They have everything.
This side? It’s like that old movieThe Beachwith that guy, DiCaprio, who used to be hot several decades ago. His young version in the movie reminds me of Ty.
Except this side of the island is on borrowed time. I’m not even sure why the Chancellor let them stay. Everything has a reason.
I don’t need a vehicle to get around. It’s a six-hour hike across the Divide to the other side. And if two or three days are enough to find out everything I need, I am out of here and off to the Westside.
This feels like paradise, but I didn’t come here for a vacation.
I have a job to do.
11
CALLIE