Page 142 of Lost Paradise

I tighten the last rope, securing the supplies on board: crates of tools and other essentials scavenged from our surroundings. Straightening up, I wipe the sweat from my brow and survey our work. This boat might just get us off this island if luck is on our side.

Eve stands a few feet away, arms crossed and face set with determination. The argument she’s been having with Foster for the past hour hangs in the air between us, unresolved.

“I’m telling you, it’s too risky for all of us to go,” he says, his voice carrying a note of urgency. “If something happens out there, if the engine fails or we hit rough weather, it’s safer if you and the others stay behind.”

I agree with Foster. Maybe our decision is based on Eve’s safety and that none of us want her to suffer all the negative things we’re predicting might happen while at sea. I volunteered to join Foster on this journey, and Byron will join us as he’s been studying the maps and can direct rescuers back to the island. Zane and Jack will remain with Eve.

Eve shakes her head. “We’ve been over this. If we stay, we’re splitting our chances of survival. We’re stronger together, and if we face trouble, we’ll have a better chance of overcoming it as a team.”

“That’s the idealistic view,” I counter, frustration evident in my tone. “But we have to be pragmatic. If this boat can’t hold all of us, or if we run out of supplies, it could mean all our deaths.”

“Or it could mean our salvation,” Eve shoots back. “We’ve survived this long by working together, by not giving up on each other. I’m not going to start abandoning people now.”

A few paces away, Jack and Zane listen intently, their faces reflecting the same blend of hope and anxiety. They know the stakes are high, and both arguments carry weight. They exchange a glance, silently weighing their own thoughts and fears.

Foster sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair. “Eve, I get it. I really do. But we have to be smart about this. If the boat sinks or gets stranded, there’s a bigger chance we might be able to return, maybe even try for a second shot. But if we all go and something goes wrong, there’s no backup plan.”

Eve steps closer, her eyes locking with his. “We don’t know if we’ll have a second chance. This might be our only shot, and what happened to we’re all in this together. We’ve come this far together. We’ve faced every challenge together. We should face this one the same way.”

The tension in the air is deep. I glance at the other three, seeing the uncertainty mirrored in their eyes. They’re looking to Foster for leadership, for a decision that could change all our lives.

Finally, Foster exhales and nods. “Alright, we’ll do it your way. All of us go. But we need to be prepared for anything. Everyone needs to be ready to face whatever comes.”

Relief washes over Eve’s face, mingling with resolve. “We will be. We’ve made it this far. We’ll make it further together.”

“One other thing,” Byron interjects, his voice cutting through the tense silence. “All those documents and film recordings from the facility—the tests, the studies. I don’t know why it was abandoned like it was or why they never destroyed or took it with them, but we found them. The last thing the world needs is for the wrong person to stumble across them.”

“You want to destroy them?” I second guess where Byron is going with this.

“For the sake of mankind,” Eve chimes in, her voice steadyand resolute.

Byron nods, his expression grim. “Yes. Whatever they did to the natives here could be catastrophic if it was exercised on larger populations as a form of control. It’s too dangerous.”

I take a deep breath, processing the gravity of his words. The thought of the experiments, the cruelty we uncovered, being replicated on a global scale sends a chill down my spine. I look around at the others, seeing the same realization dawning on their faces.

“Then we’ll make one last trip to the facility,” Foster decides, his voice firm. “Astro, Byron, and I will handle it.”

As he speaks, he catches Eve’s eye. There’s something he wants to say, something important, but the words catch in his throat. He bites his lip, holding back the emotions threatening to spill over. She gives him a slight, understanding nod, and I know she senses the weight of what he’s feeling, what we’re all feeling.

We’re taking control of our fate.

“Right then,” Byron says, breaking the odd silence that has settled over the group. “I’ll prepare what I need to take with me so we can destroy everything at once when we get there.”

“Rightly so,” Foster agrees. “We should head out tomorrow morning and return before the sun begins to set. The facility isn’t far, but the journey carries its own risks.” He scratches the back of his neck in thought, then turns and makes his way back towards the camp.

I watch him go, noting the tension in his shoulders. It’s not like Foster to be this flustered. I glance at Eve, who seems to be reading my thoughts.

“What’s got him rattled?” I ask, curiosity and concern mingling in my voice.

“He’s worried about all of us. It’s not just about me,” Eve explains. “He feels responsible for everyone. Whatever decision he makes, it’ll be on him. You can’t change him. It’s how he’s built.”

I nod slowly, digesting her words. Foster’s sense of responsibility is something I’ve come to admire, even if I don’t always understand it. It’s a stark contrast to the leadership I grew up with—the ruthless authority of my father, a boss who ruled with fear and an iron fist.

My father’s idea of responsibility is control. He makes decisions for his own gain, and anyone who gets in his way pays the price. There’s no room for compassion or self-doubt in his world. He sees people as tools, expendable and replaceable. His power comes fromintimidation, from making others fear him more than they fear the dangers outside his domain.

I used to think I needed to be more like my father to survive in a ruthless world. Violence needs violence, and danger needs danger—at least, that’s what I believed. Growing up, I was taught that strength came from dominance and control and that the only way to protect yourself was to be the most feared person in the room.

Foster, on the other hand, leads with a heavy heart and a moral compass that’s always pointing toward the greater good. He doesn’t see us as pawns in a game but as individuals whose lives matter. His authority isn’t enforced through fear but through respect and trust. He carries the weight of his decisions because he cares about the consequences they have on us, not just on himself.

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