Page 97 of Lost Paradise

I rub my temple and hand the knife back to him.

“As much as I’d love to leave it to that explanation, my mind will not allow it. I believe in science. I’m not religious. And this problem is metaphysic, not spiritualistic.”

Eve remains quiet, nodding in weary agreement, her face drawn with worry. I hate that I don’t have answers for her. Maybe it's that primal state I’m in with her, that the need to understand this island prevails so I can protect her better.

Suddenly, Zane becomes alive, and there is a sense of urgency in his movements.

“I’ll be right back,” he mutters, disappearing into the foliage with a sense of determination.

Minutes tick by in tense silence as Eve and I wait for Zane’s return.

“Do you want to continue, Firebug?” I ask Eve, and she smiles at my use of her pet name.

This expedition has been exhausting. She hasn’t complained once since we started hours earlier, but even I am fed up with achieving nothing.

“I want answers as much as you do,” she says, her voice tinged with weariness. “But what if we don’t find any? What if there’s something here, and we realize it too late? There’s so much unexplained stuff on this island, and I don’t trust it.”

“Maybe we’re looking too hard,” I say, a sigh of frustration escaping my lips. “It’s like the answers are hiding just out of reach, mocking us.”

Her eyes brighten as if a revelation has struck.

“I know you hate metaphorical theories, but I think you’re onto something with that statement.”

Zane finally emerges from the underbrush; his eyes are wide with excitement and disbelief.

“You won’t believe what I found!” he exclaims breathlessly, his words tumbling over one another in their haste. “I found a building! Like an actual manmade structure!”

My heart pounds with newfound hope.

“It looks abandoned, but it’s definitely a structure the savages didn’t create.”

With anticipation, the three of us set off once more, following Zane’s lead through the tangled wilderness. As we draw closer to the mysterious structure looming amidst the trees, I feel a surge of hope—the promise of answers and perhaps even salvation, beckoning me forward into the unknown.

Chapter 31

As we step intothe small clearing, the building seems to materialize like an oasis before us. Eve and Byron flank either side me, and we gaze at the looming structure, half-concealed by vines and shadows. Yet, unmistakably, it's one of those pop-up metal containers spanning two floors, weathered and rusted, giving the impression of a makeshift facility carved out of the jungle.

“It’s incredible,” Byron breathes, his voice barely above a whisper as we take in the sight before us. “So people were here on this island before us.”

“It explains the watermelons and some of the other more western fruit here. Most likely, they brought them and cultivated them here.”

“And the lack of animals,” Eve adds. “They probably killed them off.”

“It’s easier to exterminate mammals than reptiles and birds,” Byron concludes, his gaze lingering on the scene ahead.

“The bigger question is what and why they were here. What did this island have?” I say, staring at the abandoned building that has stood forgotten by time itself. Vines snake their way up the walls, weaving a tangled tapestry of greenery around the rusted metal. Broken shards of glass litter the ground, remnants of windows long since shattered.

“It looks as if it’s been here for ages,” Eve remarks, her voice tinging with apprehension. “Who knows what secrets are inside.”

As we approach cautiously, we notice long panels attached to the structure.

“Solar panels,” Byron says, pointing at them.

Their surfaces cracked and faded from years of neglect.

“So thisplace isn’t so old?” Eve asks curiously.

Byron shrugs, “Don’t know luv. Solar panels have existed since the sixties. I imagine whatever they needed them for was because of the energy they required to create power. But now they’re just relics from a bygone era. Completely unusable by the looks of it.”

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