Chapter 1: Always a Raincloud Over Your Head
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The crunch of sand under the tires was like coming home from a year abroad. Clay parked the car where his parking entry ticket had assigned him and rolled up the windows. Sunglasses on, he stepped out and stretched to get that long-drive soreness out of his back. The sun was only just rising over the horizon at this piss-early hour, casting long shadows over the docks, but the morning boat left at seven and had made sure they knew how damn lucky they were for even that opportunity.

Clay checked his phone to find a message from Alex, no doubt already waiting for him with the boat packed and ready to go.

Sorry, dude, it read. Woke up with food poisoning. No way to make it in time. You’re going to have to go without me.

Just fucking great.

He texted back, What the hell, man? Am I supposed to go alone???????

Clay shoved the phone back into his cargo shorts and kicked the car before folding his arms. He’d been driving for over an hour and a half, and traffic was only going to be worse heading back because of morning rush hour. If Clay went home, he was just going to stay home and play video games for the week instead. But then there’d be no one to do Alex’s job and make sure the equipment got on the boat. Either Clay did it or the group was going to have to set up in the dark.

He was just going to have to be the bigger man.

Alex was supposed to meet the captain of a fishing boat–the Merry Weather–who had promised to drop them off and pick them up again at the end of the week. Clay went to the front office and checked a map, looking for dock twelve. He did his best to look on the bright side; there would be time to explore the island before everyone else got there. There was no way that Clay was going to set up everything on his own. It was a charity just to make sure their stuff got there at all.

The boat and captain were obvious as soon as he found the right dock, but not because they stood out in any way. Terri Lovelace, prom queen and founder of their hometown’s Black Students Fellowship chapter, was talking to a broad-chested man with a thick white beard who was loading coolers and storage trunks onto the boat. To no one’s surprise, Terri was dressed like she was heading to a resort and not camping on a beach; no doubt all the clothes in her two suitcases followed that pattern. Her braids were held in place by expensive-looking hair pins, and she was wearing just as much makeup as she had during graduation, even talking with that same Salutatorian smile.

“Oh, Clay! I’m surprised to see you!”

“I didn’t think anyone was going to be here. Alex was supposed to do this.”

“Lucky for us, I had to get up early to give the cat his medicine, so I saw the message Alex left in the group chat and had just enough time to make it.”

Group chat?

“Are you planning to set up camp for everyone, then?”

“Sure. Won’t be hard with you to help.”

Clay grunted. “You aren’t worried about breaking a nail or anything, right?”

Her mouth tightened, but she just turned to address the captain. “This is Clay. He likes Marvel movies, too.”

Clay might have imagined the faintest hint of a sneer in her voice.

“Ah! Good to meet you, Clay.” The captain reached out for a firm handshake. “Can’t get enough of the films, myself. Always a treat to see what they do with the characters I grew up reading about.”

“Yeah, they’re really cool.” Clay’s chest swelled as he admitted, “I haven’t missed a single one in the theater.”

“I can appreciate a dedicated man. Help me get the rest of this onto the boat and we can shove off. We’re looking to make pretty good time.”

Clay obliged but did his best not to break a sweat. This whole morning was leaving a pit in his stomach. With Terri here, he didn’t need to be here, and she no doubt assumed he would do most of the work when they got there while she scrolled social media. Also, he really didn’t want to be stuck with the Theresa Lovelace for an entire afternoon.

Literally anyone else could have come in her place: Chris, Roberto, even Diana. The mere thought of spending an entire morning alone with Diana woke up the butterflies in Clay’s stomach. But it just had to be Terri instead.

“Alright,” the captain said. “Everything’s strapped down. We’re good to go. Anyone need to use the restroom first? No plumbing on Camudoa island. Not even an outhouse.”

Clay glanced back at the dock building and the parking lot just beyond it, then over at Terri, who was watching him expectantly.

“I’m good,” he said, sitting down. “I want to see this island everyone’s been hyping up.”

He hadn’t driven all this way to have second thoughts.

Once they were on open water, Terri pulled out her phone and started taking selfies. Clay just rolled his eyes before following the captain into the cabin. There was actually Marvel memorabilia scattered among the boating equipment.

They made small talk while the captain steered. The trip was going to take a little less than an hour, and he was keen to warn Clay signals would be basically nonexistent. Fortunately, they did have a satellite phone if anybody needed to reach them. Weather looked to be pretty good except for a small rainstorm later in the week.

Terri did join them a little while later to check on their progress.

“What kind of movies do you enjoy, Miss Terri?” the captain asked.

Clay cringed a little.

“I’ve been making my way through some famous Italian films. Il Posto was more than a little haunting. Watching old black and white films is super engaging; it’s an entirely different medium from what we have today.”

“Yeah,” Clay said, “I’m sure all the college boys are going to be swooning over boring black and white foreign films.”

He saw Terri’s expression twitch before she tightened her jaw and said, “It’s a good movie. I don’t need to impress anyone.”

“It can’t be any more ‘sophisticated’ than a romcom. I doubt you’re watching anything as thought-provoking as Rick and Morty.”

“That gross cartoon?”

“It’s an adult animated show, not a cartoon!”

“Enough, you two.” The captain spoke calmly but slowed the boat to a crawl and stepped away from the console. “There’s no hope of surviving a week on a deserted island together, even with other friends, if you can’t get along.”

Clay grumbled and looked away while Terri shrank a little.

The captain told them, “If you two can’t bring yourselves to apologize, there is time for me to drop you back off at the docks before I start my day.”

Refusing to look at him, Terri said, “I’m sorry, Clay. I lost my temper.”

“Me too,” Clay spat out.

The captain looked unconvinced, but he turned back to the console and sped the boat back up. “You’re friends. Be sure to act like it.”

The island grew from a speck on the horizon. Clay got as close as he could to the window to scan it: forests, cliffs, wide beaches. It had been too many years since he’d gone camping, and this looked like paradise. They pulled up to the tiniest dock that Clay had ever seen, but otherwise he couldn’t see any evidence of habitation at all.

Clay was bouncing on his heels as the captain laid out the gangway. Camudoa Island was even more beautiful up close, and he wanted to see all of it! Getting through the dreck of everyday life was worth it for days like this.

The captain declared, “Alright! Clay, help me unload the heavy stuff. You’re still young and strong.”

Clay sighed, and his shoulders drooped, but he didn’t want to be chewed out again. Dragging and hauling the camping trunks off the boat was a pain, especially as the stuff inside shifted and clanked while he struggled to keep his balance. By the third trip, Claw was sweating and cursing the captain under his breath.

They were done in only half an hour with his help, at least.

“Well, kids,” the captain said, stepping back onto the boat, “I’ll be back this afternoon to drop your friends off, but otherwise this is farewell. Be kind to each other. My wife and I would have saved ourselves a lot of headaches if we’d learned that lesson at your age. Or at all, I suppose. Can’t be mad, though; she’s never more beautiful than when she’s angry.”

Clay rolled his eyes while Terri cooed, “Aww, that’s so sweet.”

Once the captain had taken off, Terri opened up a tent bag and pulled out a manual. “Let’s see… Lot of parts here. You go camping a lot?”

“A little.”

Clay stared down the beach, seeing a rocky shore that had been exposed by the low tide. His heart yearned to explore. But Terri had mentioned a group chat that Clay wasn’t a part of.

He always knew it must have existed–Clay only ever heard there were plans through Alex, and nobody ever asked him for input–but he hated knowing for sure. There was more to him than just being Alex’s friend. Why had he come early to help if they were going to treat him like dirt?!

“I’ll help,” he told her.

Terri picked up a disassembled tent pole and bit her lip, flabbergasted. “I think I can figure this out.”

“It’ll go faster if it’s the two of us. Like the captain said: we’re friends. Let’s act like it.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him as if she was dangerously close to figuring out he just wanted to prove they were wrong for excluding him. Not that he was bitter. Clay just needed to show how committed he was so they’d apologize and let him in.

Terri nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Clay let her read the manuals and figure out where to arrange the tents and how the campsite should be laid out. He would move things, and she would tell him where to move them. Terri would be on the ground, hammering tent stakes even though she was wearing wedges and not even complaining about her nails getting scuffed. It was almost impressive.

“I think the cooking area should go over here,” she said, gesturing to a dirt patch. “I want the coolers to be over there, and we can place the prep table in between that and the stove. We angle them a little, then set up the serving table like it’s a kitchen island.

“It’s not a kitchen, though,” Clay told her, dragging over one of the folding tables. “I don’t think anybody is going to care.”

“Well, I was planning to do a lot of the cooking, and getting it set up just right will make that a lot easier.”

“Can’t even wait until you’re married to become a housewife.”

“Can you stop it with the misogyny for just one day, Clay?”

“It’s just a joke!”

“I don’t care if it’s a joke! Just leave me alone. I need to concentrate.”

“Fine by me.”

He dropped the folding table, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked away. Clay didn’t look back even as he made it to the exposed rocks and started hopping across them. If she was going to be a bitch, then she could finish the job herself. Was it his fault if nobody gave him a chance to speak his mind? Sometimes what he said challenged people’s biases, but it wasn’t his fault they were uncomfortable with the truth.

At least Alex treated Clay like a real friend. Alex had never even hit on Clay, not that Clay was insecure with his masculinity like those pussies on the baseball team who’d be threatened by a guy flirting with them. He and Alex got each other.

It just… would be nice if other people tried to understand him too.

Not long after he’d started wandering, Clay found himself coming up to a gash in the cliff face. It was low enough that high tide would leave the cave partially flooded, but that was hours away. Clay shoved his hand into the dark air and shivered from the chill. A T-shirt and cargo shorts were not ideal for cave exploration, but a peek couldn’t hurt. It wasn’t going to be deep enough for him to get lost or stuck.

He pulled out his phone to use as a flashlight and gingerly climbed inside. Sandals at least gave him a bit of grip on the wet stone, but he had to be careful. To Clay’s surprise, the narrow opening quickly gave way to a tunnel he could properly stand in.

The floor here was polished stone.

Clay’s footsteps echoed as he stepped forward. He had never heard of a naturally smooth cave floor like this, but the island was considered a natural park or something, according to Roberto. Nobody was allowed to build there.

Further in, though, there was some kind of gold-speckled paint smeared along the walls. Clay’s heart leapt as it glittered in the light of his phone. It looked like real gold, and someone put it there. If this really was protected land, though, Clay could get in a lot of trouble if he scraped it off to sell. The last thing he wanted was to be canceled by a bunch of archaeologists on Twitter.

Clay opened up the camera app and began recording.

“Are you seeing this shit?” he asked. “I think this is real gold. And look at the ground here. This isn’t natural. Gonna have to upload this to TikTok or something. I just found this cave entrance by the shore. Really don’t think anyone’s ever found it before now, except for whoever put this here, obviously. Not going to tell you where I am, duh. Should probably scrub the metadata too before I upload this. I want credit if this turns out to be anything.”

The cave was too deep for the phone light to reach the end, but Clay could see more sparkles in the dark. There were tunnels leading away from the main one, but Clay followed the gold, still “freezing my tits off,” as he explained to the viewers. Every few seconds, Clay could hear the drip of water up ahead. The air here was damp and hard to breathe. Hopefully that didn’t come across in the footage.

“The fuck is that?”

The cave came to a sudden stop with a large flat wall made of the same polished stone as the floor. It too was covered in gold paint, but in a crude mural depicting cowering figures on each side staring up at a central figure that towered over Clay. The woman had a wide gaping jaw and six arms. Beneath her was the shape of a woman holding up her hands.

Suspended in the air between the two women was a complex and finely-painted emblem that Clay had never seen before, as if someone had tried to combine a Chinese character with a Celtic knot. It was much cleaner than any of the painted figures. He took a step back to get the full image with the camera before whispering, “Holy shit.”

Leaning in, Clay discovered very clean grooves that had been painted in to make the symbol visible. “What the fuck? You seeing this? Shit, I wish I had a 4K camera.” He ran his fingers over the image, still not sure any of this was real. It was ice-fucking-cold to the touch.

As soon as he pulled his fingers away, the emblem started to glow. Clay barely had time to let out a “What the fuck?” before a blinding flash and shockwave knocked him on his ass. His phone landed flashlight-down, leaving Clay in darkness.

Poor Clay! Hopefully this will be the least of his troubles! Things can only go up from here, right?

Patrons get access to early chapters as well as occasional exclusive material, plus updates regarding current and future plans. Every little dollar helps in this trying time. If you want more stories by me, you can find some on itch or go to Amazon for my first or second book! A number of my itch stories are also part of bundles from the Secret Trans Writing Lair, with anywhere from ten to thirty stories each, all for you. I also do the occasional nonfiction piece on EpistemicPolymath.com if you're looking for more.

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