Rakasa Read Free Page B

making a sound, just watching me like I
got no right to be on their island, like I’m an intruder and they mean to tell
on me.
    Fuck ’em.
    I swat away leaves and push onward. The branches leave their
marks on my face and arms. I shrug it off. Got no time to worry about being
pretty.
    The trees thin and I see a hill of dirt.
    I reach the hill and start climbing. There are fewer trees
here, which means there’s less foliage, but there’s also fewer footholds and
the hill is steep.
    I manage.
    Rocks tumble away when I put my weight on them. They hit the
trees and send the birds flying. I reach the top of the hill. It’s not the
tallest hill on the island but it gives me a good vantage point.
    The island isn’t big. I can see all its edges. There are no
signs of human life or any kind of encampment. No fields for veggies. No
livestock. Nothing but the birds above and a whole lot of green.
    No sign of David, either.
    I frown, realizing even the birds have fled.
    I’m about to start my climb down when my foot pushes through
the brittle dirt and falls into a hole. I pull it out and look down.
    The hole is deep, leading down into the dark of the
apparently hollow hill. I push a rock into the hole and listen as it knocks on
the walls before it plunks into liquid below.
    Water.
    I get down on my knees and widen the hole.
    Can’t see nothing down there, but there’s no mistake there
must be some water of some kind. An underground lake? A flooded cave?
    How do I get down there to drink it though?
    I stand back up and look around—and then I notice the other
hills. They all got holes at their tops, too.
    Strange. Like volcanoes. What, water volcanoes? I heard of
geysers, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t that.
    My gaze falls from the hills and looks at the island below. The
soil looks strange even from far away. It’s brittle and light colored in the
shadow of the trees.
    Takes me a moment to discern that it’s not just shadows I’m
seeing.
    There are holes in the dirt. Holes in the jungle floor, too.
    The holes are everywhere. Some of them even catch the light
of the sun, letting me know they go down deep.
    It’s like the island has gone to rot and it’s falling apart.
    A human scream breaks the silence.

6 .
    I f
David isn’t dead then I don’t know what to do for him. If he is dead,
then I’ll probably say a few words of remembrance. The uncertainty leaves me
feeling lost. Don’t like it.
    I followed the screams to a hole.
    The potato bag of supplies was ripped open and scattered all
around the hole’s edges. I found blood, too. It was fresh. I know it’s human
because I recognize the smell. It’s probably David’s but I’m not going down the
hole to check for verification.
    Been standing next to that hole for the better part of an
hour, tracking the sun’s descent on the horizon. Got my sword out. It’s shaky
in my hand as my arm grows tired.
    I stopped asking if David could hear me some time ago. It’s
obvious he won’t be answering.
    What’s got me worried is how many more holes there are on
this island. I stuck my foot down one of them earlier in the day—even thought
for a moment about jumping in for a drink. That was stupid.
    Feeling outnumbered. Feeling unprepared.
    Feeling vulnerable.
    The birds are still up in the branches, watching me like
they know something they’re not telling.
    Got one shot for my gun. I consider using it on the bird
I’ve determined to be their leader—he’s a proud little asshole of a parrot with
a bad head bobbing habit—but I stop myself, thinking it would be a terrible
waste.
    I’m not tired, not really, but my body begs me to sleep. I
know what that means. I’m shutting down. Don’t got the sustenance that’s
required. Gonna die soon if I don’t drink something, but I don’t feel
comfortable turning my back on the hole that David disappeared into.
    Maybe it’s my imagination but I don’t think the birds are
the only ones watching.
    I think there’s