Chapter 10: A Touch of Cynicism Keeps Everyone Safe
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The sun was already touching the horizon by the time they made it out of the cave. Frenzied waves made getting back across the rocks tedious. There were scrapes and bruises, but thankfully nobody sprained an ankle. Exhaustion had settled over the group.

“We couldn’t have been in there for more than an hour,” Roberto finally said when they made it back to the campsite. “At least all our stuff is still here.”

Terri added, “It was stupid to leave the campsite alone. We can’t be making mistakes like this.”

“I didn’t hear you saying anything about it earlier.”

Cindy cleared her throat and said, “I’m hungry. Is anyone else hungry? I’m going to start dinner. Terri, do you…?”

Terri had plopped into a folding chair to stare vacantly out at the ocean.

“I’ll just make sandwiches. I can do that.”

She made her way to the cooking station and started searching for the ingredients while the others continued their conversation.

Alex said, “I’ll take watch tonight. After what happened in there, I don’t feel safe anywhere on the island. We also need to redouble our efforts to search the woods for clues about what happened to Clay.”

There was uncommitted mumbling in response. Everyone was still pretty fidgety. Even Cindy found herself needing to stop and take deep breaths whenever her thoughts drifted back to what they’d experienced.

“We’ll need to set up shifts so everyone gets enough sleep,” Roberto said.

Winter nodded. “You, Alex, and I are the most logical choices. We don’t have a lot of time left. Thursday, Friday, and then we leave on Saturday morning. Two days isn’t much time to figure out what’s going on here.”

“It’s enough time,” Alex replied, gripping his spear tighter. “We’ll find Clay and get him out of here.”

“...I doubt that.”

“Excuse me?”

Winter chewed on her tongue before continuing, “I don’t think he’s dead or anything, and we’re going to find him wherever he is, but then we alert the authorities. We have no idea what we’re up against, and we can’t save him ourselves.”

“Fuck that!” Alex’s face was red as he thrust his spear into the ground. “I’m not leaving my friend to die here! Or be held prisoner. Do you think the police will even believe us after what we saw?”

Chris placed a hand on his shoulder, saying, “We’re going to find him, Alex, but there’s no way Clay would want us to risk ourselves looking for him. We need to think about–”

“None of you have to help if you don’t want to.” Alex knocked Chris’ hand away. “He’s not even really your friend. But I’m going to get Clay back safely and will do it alone if I have to.”

He stormed away from them and toward the cooking station, where Cindy counted slices of bread with trembling hands. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed a head of lettuce from the icebox and gingerly picked up a knife. Cindy kept her mouth shut while she tried to figure out what in the world this situation even called for her to say.

Alex took the initiative by telling her, “Sorry about that. I don’t normally lose my temper, but… Anyway, it sucks that your introduction to the group after all this time has been such a fucking disaster.”

Cindy nodded. “You’re a good friend, Alex. You clearly care a lot.”

He just huffed and kept cutting. Cindy stared down at the package of deli ham in her hands like it was going to give her answers. Anything short of the full truth meant doubling down on the lies that were growing more out of control with every passing hour.

“You’re not alone,” she said. “I’m going to make sure that Clay is safe too. He’s not going to be hurt, and nobody is going to get hurt looking for him. We’re going to figure out what’s really going on here.”

“You don’t even know him. Why make such a big promise?”

She shrugged. “I thought that’s what a good person would do?”

 

That night, Cindy crawled into her sleeping back without speaking to Terri. Her mind was racing, but she was so exhausted that it made her physically ache. Thoughts raced each other around her head as she desperately tried to find a way out of this conundrum before someone got themselves killed.

Sleep came quickly, and Cindy found herself on the edge of a lake as wide as the ocean but still enough to reflect the stars above, then standing beside a thin giant on the top parapet in a castle of rainbow light, then speaking to a collection of swirling stars atop a snow-capped peaked amidst a chill that latched onto her very bones.

She was standing on the beach, but it felt different than before. Cindy looked down at her hands. The color was gone from them, and if she strained, she could almost see through them to the sand below. Her breathing came slow and shallow and wasn’t filling at all.

Cindy wasn’t wearing clothes, but her features were too indistinct for it to be immodest. A glowing golden cord emerged from her navel and snaked lazily through the air and into the woods. She held still for a moment, hovering slightly above the ground, before realizing that this dream wasn’t flashing by like the others.

There were tents nearby, but they were blurry in the corners of her vision. The sky was full of alien constellations flashing different colors. Trees in the distance merged and shifted. Cindy floated down a little until her feet were touching the warm sand. It was hard to focus enough to feel anything, but she was present in a way that stirred an ember of fear deep in the pit of her stomach.

She held the glowing cord loosely in her fingers and started following it toward the forest’s edge. It led her to a dirt path between trees made of winnowed, twisted human forms that swayed and moaned in the stillness of the night. Each one she passed would stretch and cry out in anger and reach for her in desperation. Cindy struggled to tear her gaze away.

The cord led her for miles, past lakes that bent like bowls and mountains made of glass. Tall spires of unprocessed metal and uncut gemstone dotted a landscape that stretched so much further than the island covered and then rose from oceans in the distance. The wind whispered of outlandish worlds and figures bigger than life. Now and then, Cindy would turn her head and barely catch a glimpse of the masked figure, and in the back of her head, a woman’s voice warned her of danger.

Cindy followed the cord until it brought her to a hard and flat desert beneath a dim but hot red sun. It continued to weave through the air until Cindy reached the edge of a pit that must have been a mile in diameter. Her golden thread slithered through the air until it reached the center of the chasm and then turned to plummet straight down.

The hole went so deep that the sun directly above couldn’t shed any light on its contents. Cold air wafted up in spurts like heavy breaths. She grabbed the cord where it was attached to her stomach. It flared at the base where deep golden veins dug into her skin. Cindy gripped tightly, a strange compulsion telling her to rip it out.

She gulped and took a deep breath before someone threw an arm around Cindy’s throat and pulled her back.

Cindy woke up screaming. Terri tried to jump from her sleeping bag but was tangled up in it. There was scrambling all around while Cindy tried and failed to catch her breath. Suddenly, too many people were in her face and asking questions.

It took a few minutes for her to convince them that she was okay, that it had just been a bad dream, and they finally backed off. Cindy sat up and started into the corner of the tent as the fading images of the dream slipped from her memory. Terri watched her for a little bit longer before asking once if she was okay. All Cindy could do was nod.

When Terri got up and left the tent to start her day, Cindy lay back down. She was covered in a cold sweat that made the sleeping bag gross to lie on, but she was too tired to move. It only took another minute for her to fall back into a fitful sleep. No dreams this time.

The sun was high in the sky when she stirred and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Cindy’s stomach hurt from how empty it was, but she just wrapped her arms around herself and curled up tighter in the sleeping bag. It stank from sweat. The combination of the rank stench and her empty belly made her nauseous enough to finally peel herself out of there and emerge into the sunlight.

Some cold French toast had been left over from that morning, covered with aluminum foil to protect it from the flies hanging about. It was still better than anything Cindy could make. She devoured it while taking stock of who was around. Terri was walking down the beach and poking at shells, and Roberto sat with a spear and scanned the forest. There was movement from Diana’s tent, but otherwise the camp was empty.

Roberto sat straight in his chair, and Cindy followed his gaze to the forest’s edge where a group was emerging. Alex was helping Chris hold himself up as they walked, and the two were followed by Winter, who took off running toward the camp. She cried out for Terri to grab the first aid kit. Cindy found herself struggling to breathe, but while there was blood on Chris’ shirt, he didn’t look too badly hurt.

There was a scramble as they got Chris into a chair while Terri searched for the first aid kit. Nightwing was going berserk from excitement but didn’t seem to actually know what was going on. Diana stepped out of her tent to see what was going on.

“What happened?” Terri demanded while Cindy and Diana hovered nearby.

Alex helped to get Chris’ bloody shirt off, revealing abrasions along his torso where the skin had been scraped off. Cindy’s heart skipped a beat. She had to turn away because her vision grew spotty. It was happening. People were getting hurt because of her.

Winter explained, “We found an old dirt path through the woods and followed it for about thirty minutes. It led to a rope bridge over a dried river bed. We could have just climbed down and back up again, but–”

“I was trying to save us time,” Chris wheezed.

“You’re lucky it was just the wood that got you when you fell and not the nails. I doubt that first aid kit has a tetanus shot in it.”

Terri said, “Your knee is swollen, too. You might have torn something.”

“I don’t think it’s that bad.”

“You dumbass!” Terrie’s hands were shaking while she pressed bandages against his ribs. “You could have gotten yourself killed! Don’t you ever think of anyone but yourself?”

Diana placed her hands on Terri’s shoulders, whispering, “Hey, it’s okay. You’ve got this. He’s safe in your hands.”

Alex told Chris, “You were being so cautious yesterday. What the fuck changed?”

Chris’ expression fell a little. “I’m worried about him. You were right: he could be anywhere, we’re running out of time, and we can’t just leave him. I don’t want anybody to get hurt, but all of this is risky. There’s no reason to lie to ourselves about that. I just made a calculated decision.”

Cindy covered her mouth and turned away. Chris was being such an idiot! He could have died! And for her. It made her feel a little bubbly inside, but it also made her sick. How was she supposed to live with herself–girl or boy–if Chris got seriously hurt trying to help her. What if his knee didn’t heal properly? What if he got an infection?

He would never forgive her.

She heard Alex sigh. “When I said that, I didn’t think anybody was actually going to be in danger looking for him. Maybe Winter is right. We need to find the truth, but nobody can be putting their life on the line like this.”

Turning back to face them, Cindy added, “You were very brave. Anybody would be… honored to have you as a friend, Chris. But for m– our sake, please be more careful. I’m sure Clay wouldn’t want you to die for him.

Chris nodded. “I guess I was being a little reckless. Thank you.”

He smiled at her, and she found herself smiling back as a warmth bloomed in her chest. The pressure from the lie was still bearing down on her,  but the tension in her shoulders had dissolved just a little. Chris would be okay. He had to be.

Then she briefly locked eyes with Terri, who scowled before turning away. A chill struck Cindy. What had she done wrong?!

Enemy is the perfect of good, and it's better to have something done in time than to never have anything finished at all, but if I end up reworking this story for future publication, I would definitely rework this chapter to include the scene where Chris actually got hurt. Would definitely drive home the impact a lot more.

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