Page 18 of Close Your Eyes and Count to 10

The bird dropped the carcass to the road and proceeded to tear it apart. Adele found that she couldn’t look away as the bird used its razor-sharp beak to rip away pieces of flesh. There was no frenzy to the eating, the predator’s cool yellow eyes glowing, glancing at them occasionally.

Her stomach turned as the bird tore into the bloody flesh.

That’s the way of it, she used to tell the kids during nature shows, even though she too cringed as the lion took the gazelle or the shark ate the seal.If the predator doesn’t catch his prey,hedies.

Another bird, lighter in color but greater in size, swooped in, and a terrible, shrieking dance occurred as both animals spread their flapping wings, screeching until finally the first bird flew away, the echo of its cries carrying angrily on the night air. The other bird snatched up the prey in its talons, then it, too, flew away.

Adele leaned forward to watch it disappear into the trees.

Gustavo climbed back into the driver’s seat. “Buzzards. A male and a female. Looks like she won that fight.”

“She probably has some babies to feed,” said Adele, watching it disappear into the sky.

“The female is usually the strongest,” said Gustavo. “In any species. Buzzards are the islands’ only natural predator.” She didn’t interrupt him, though she already knew something about the birds. “They’re not vultures, which are commonly called buzzards in the US, but hawklike birds in the kite family often confused with goshawks.In fact,FalcãoIsland is a bit of a misnomer. The early settlers probably mistook the birds for hawks. The symbol of the goshawk figures prominently in the island heraldry in spite of the mistake.”

She’d read that buzzards were seen in some cultures as a symbol of transformation and change, the ability to release the old and embrace the new.

In others, a harbinger of destruction.

She felt a chill move through her as the light grew dimmer, and Gustavo started driving again.

They came to a stop at the grand entrance, the rusting gate swung wide.

A towering, graffiti-covered sign greeted them.

PERIGO!it read in bold, black type, though someone had turned theOinto a comical frowning face.Na Entre, it went on. And then for good measure, a translation:DANGER! Do Not Enter!An enormous black hand was encircled by a red prohibited symbol, a circle with a slash through it.

“They don’t mean us, right?” said Gustavo with a mischievous grin.

Adele snapped a picture and watched the sign disappear behind them on the twisting road to Enchantments.

4

MALINKA—Live on WeWatch

The Game

The camera is focused on a winding path through dense forest, the foliage cast in a bouncing light. Labored breathing is ragged and uneven, drowning out the sound of running footfalls.

A voice beyond the scope of the lens. “Will you look at this place?? Oh, my god, you guys! It’s unreal.”

The camera sweeps, and Enchantments is a light-swallowing shadow in the semidarkness. Rain has started to fall, and the waxy plants and towering trees sheen, glittering an eerie viridescent black. The footfalls come to a stop, and the camera pans around again.

A young woman’s face with delicate, pale features, a smattering of freckles across a button nose, with shining, thickly lashed eyes, fills the screen. Her gaze darts, looking around off camera. Her breathing slows, raindrops dot the camera lens. She releases a sigh, gazes intensely at the lens now.

“Hello, my friends,” she says, her eastern European accent heavy. “Most of you know me. But for those of you who don’t, I’m Malinka Nicqui, the first woman to climb all Seven Summits by the age of eighteen, and the founder of the Yes I Can clothing company. And I’m hereon Falcão Island, participating in a game of hide and seek sponsored by Extreme Games and Insane Challenges.”

Malinka’s eyes drift off camera, then come back. She’s breathless, flushed.

“The countdown has just begun, and the other hiders have scattered, looking for their spots. The game is officially on.”

She leans in closer, lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“For those of you who have been watching as I’ve broadcast live over the last couple of days, you know that shit has gotten truly weird here on the island,” she says. “Someone is missing. And I don’t think we’re alone on this site. I think someone is…trying to hurt us. Like this is getting real.”

Malinka’s eyes are wide now.

“And this storm.”

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