Page 152 of Blue Arrow Island
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It’s a sad day in our camp. An enhanced black bear attacked Dr. Kristen Lynn yesterday and she died from her injuries. This is the second attack by a bear since we arrived. We are sending out a team to euthanize all black bears on the island.
- Excerpt from the journal of Dr. Randall McClain
When I wake up the next morning, Marcus is already gone.
Our room is pitch black, but even in the darkness, I know he isn’t here because I can’t feel him. His bed is so small that we can’t even fit in it unless he’s on his back and I’m on my side. I always put my back to the wall and snuggle into his warm, solid body to fall asleep at night, my head tucked beneath his chin and my cheek on his chest.
He was quiet when he came in late last night. We didn’t exchange any words when he got into bed, both of us moving to get situated into our sleeping positions. Once his arm was around my back, his hand resting on my hip, he kissed the top of my head.
And that was it. Even though I was only wearing a tank top and underwear, he had no interest in anything sexual. I knew something was off with him, but now I’m even more certain.
I slide out of bed, my clothes already soaked through with sweat. With the power almost entirely offline, the air circulator doesn’t work. It’s nothing like air conditioning, but I didn’t realize how much it helped with the humidity until we no longer had it.
I showered before bed, so this morning I just brush my teeth, put on clean clothes, and put my hair back in a ponytail. It’s so stifling in the housing block that I’m relieved to step outside, where the air isn’t stagnant.
On my walk to the Hub, I see that the bodies of the men we killed yesterday are gone. A woman is riding one of the laundry bikes through camp and two men are pushing wheeled carts past the tower.
I glance up to find Stella in the enclosure at the top of the tower, monitoring the long view of the camp’s perimeter.
It’s business as usual here, but also ... not. There are no kids out here. No one standing out of the main traffic area, carrying on light conversations. Everyone wears a serious expression, the events of yesterday still fresh.
When I walk into the Hub and get in the breakfast line, Amira sees me from her place near the front, her face lighting up.
“Hey, how are you?” she asks as she comes to stand with me at the back of the line.
“I’m okay.”
“How’d you sleep?”
“Not great.”
I was tired, but I could tell from his breathing that Marcus wasn’t sleeping, so we both lay there alone with our thoughts. We’ve spent days on end together, sharing intimacies bothphysical and emotional. But the wall between us now only seems to be growing bigger. It’s left me feeling adrift, like a boat that came untied from a dock and is now floating aimlessly in the ocean.
I speak softly, so only she can hear me when I ask, “Can I stay in your room? At night? I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Her brows drop in question, but she says, “Of course. I’ll see if I can find a cot.”
I nod my thanks, the savory scent of cooking meat making my stomach rumble with hunger.
“Did the kitchen get power back?”
Amira shakes her head. “Their ovens are wood-fired. I think we’re having bacon and eggs and pancakes.”
I groan, ravenous after not eating anything yesterday. “What’s the occasion? We usually have fruit and oatmeal.”
“I guess surviving the coup attempt? And everyone’s really hungry because we only had breakfast yesterday.”
“How are things with you?”
Amira and I catch up over dinner and often spend the rest of our evenings together after that, but we’ve both been gone from camp a lot, searching for the flowers.
“Not bad.” She sighs softly, looking away. “I went and saw Chance. Ellison had to amputate his left arm beneath the elbow. He lost a lot of blood, and when they dragged him out yesterday and tied him to the tower, I was afraid it would kill him.”
“Is he okay?”
She shrugs. “He’s eating and drinking. Sleeping a lot.”
