Page 25 of Blue Arrow Island
His statement hangs in the air between us. It makes sense, then, why Marcelle didn’t kill me. She’s not allowed to beat me to death in her room, but in front of everyone else, it’s fine.
This place isfucked.
“That’s good to know.” I put my fists in front of me in a defensive stance. “Are you ready to go again?”
He exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Briar, you’re not hearing me.”
“I hear you fine.”
“You don’t know how ruthless Tiders are.”
I throw my arms in the air and laugh, though I’m more angry than amused. “Add it to the list of things I don’t know around here. Why are there wolves? Why can fours run five miles in twenty minutes, and then do it again right after, like they justtook a little stroll in the park? How did I recover from that beating in three days?”
He closes the last of the distance between us, so close I can feel the heat of his body. I tip my chin up so I can meet his gaze.
“This island is special,” he says in a low tone. “In time, you’ll see how.”
“You answered exactly zero of my questions.”
“Yeah, well...there’s a reason for that. I’m trying to help you here. If you want to live long enough to really experience what’s special about the island, you need to train every waking hour. You’re less than three weeks away from getting called to the circle.”
I’m failing. My plan was to lie low. Keep quiet, not make any waves, and bide my time. Learn what I can without anyone realizing I’m doing it. Stay focused on my goal of finding a way off this island. Instead, I’m showing Pax every single one of my cards.
“Okay, I understand.” I try to look apologetic. “You’re right. Let’s train some more.”
He nods. “No more roundhouse kicks. You finish those two business days after you start them. Fight dirtier.”
“Okay.”
I told him what I was thinking just now, and that was a mistake. I’m being smarter about the training, though. He knows I’m good at defending myself because doing so is instinctive. I can’t let people land punches on me when I know how to evade them.
He thinks my offensive skills are weaker. They aren’t. I’m deliberately holding back during training because I don’t want anyone here to know how strong a fighter I really am.
That’s one card I won’t play unless I have no choice.
An hour later, Pax is leading me through the jungle, the trail we’re on wide enough to accommodate three people walking side by side. It’s a different trail than the one we took from the beach to the Rising Tide camp.
The jungle is alive with monkeys chattering and birds singing, the steady hum of insects a constant in the background. A bright-green snake slithers up a nearby branch and I lean over, trying to get a closer look at it to identify the species.
“Stay in the middle of the trail.” Pax is carrying a spear, his demeanor serious and alert. “And don’t touch anything. You can die just from touching some of the stuff here.”
“Are there dart frogs? I’ve always wanted to see a blue poison dart frog.”
He squints skeptically. “This isn’t a zoo. Shit will kill you before you even know it’s happening.”
I stop myself from saying I know how to be careful. I still have suspicions about the purpose of this island. Are people being trained for death matches in the jungle? And other than wolves, what else was brought here? The usual rules about predators and prey don’t apply if humans are intervening and adding species that don’t belong here.
After another five minutes of walking in silence, the trail opens up. My eyes widen as I take in my surroundings. Blue Arrow Island just got a whole lot weirder.
It looks like a modern private school campus, the sprawling brick building rising up two stories. A man is tending to the landscaping that surrounds the building, which is meticulously cared for, free of weeds and full of brightly colored tropical blooms. A wide, rectangular sandstone slab is set into thelandscaping, the words “Peace,” “Order,” and “Prosperity” each engraved on its own line.
I follow Pax up the concrete stairs. A man in the same olive pants, white T-shirt and boots worn by everyone at the Rising Tide camp nods at him.
“Commander.”
“Hey, Ray. This is Briar.”
Ray nods politely at me, his gaze jumping to the bracelet that identifies me as a one.
