The Island

by C. L. Taylor

She smiles. ‘He’s my brother. He’ll always be a twat.’

  ‘Hug?’

  She opens her arms, being careful not to set light to overhanging branches with the torch, and we share a brief, sticky hug.

  ‘Everything’s going to be OK,’ she says. ‘Come on, let’s find Danny and Honor.’

  She lifts a vine for me to stoop under and I have the strongest sense of déjà vu. Meg continues to walk, then, sensing that I’m not directly behind her, turns sharply.

  ‘Jess?’ Meg says again, making me jump. ‘You’re not ill, are you?’ She hands me her water bottle. ‘Here, drink this.’

  I shake the bottle. ‘There’s not much left.’

  ‘You have it.’

  I take the smallest sip then screw the lid back on. ‘Honor might need it,’ I say, as Meg gives me a questioning look.

  We trudge, rather than walk. I don’t know how long we’ve been in the jungle but it feels like hours. We finished the last few drops of water ages ago, my feet are aching and I’m dripping with sweat. Neither of us has said a word for ages, other than to shout Honor and Danny’s names, and our voices are starting to go. Neither of us would admit it but we’re starting to give up hope. How can two people just disappear? The island’s big but surely they can hear us. Unless they don’t want to be heard…

  ‘Jess.’ Meg stops abruptly. ‘I’m going to have to stop for a bit. I feel a bit faint.’

  ‘Here, let me take that.’ I reach for the torch, then tap her day pack. ‘I’ll take that too.’

  She shrugs it off and sinks down. Her legs give way before I can warn her to check the ground for snakes and spiders. She rests her back against a tree then slumps forward, her head in her hands. Even by the faint light of the torch I can see how pale she’s become in the last few hours. There are dark circles beneath her eyes that weren’t there before.

  She looks up at me. ‘I’m not sure how much longer I can keep walking.’

  ‘It’s fine, have a rest. Once you’re feeling up to it we should head to the waterfall, get some fresh water.’ I pause, listening for the sound of rushing water, but all I can hear are birds, cicadas and my own laboured breath. I don’t want to say this to Meg but I’m not entirely sure where we are. We started at the waterfall, moved on to to the cliff top and the plan was to do a complete circle, but I’ve got a horrible feeling that we’re lost.

  I’m not sure Meg could make it back the way we came, not without food or water. I could kick myself. Why didn’t I grab a bottle of water too? Jefferson has been drumming it into us the whole time we’ve been here – don’t go anywhere without water – but Danny’s sudden sprint into the jungle completely freaked me out.

  Maybe we should just sit it out. Or try and climb a tree like Danny and Jeffers did when they were hiding. An idea hits me and I look up into the trees, scanning the gloom for any sign of fruit. If we could just find a mango or a coconut the moisture would keep us going, for a few more hours at least.

  ‘Jessie,’ Meg says. ‘Why don’t you sit down? You look exhausted.’

  ‘I’m all right,’ I lie. ‘I’m just trying to—’

  An ear-splitting scream fills the jungle, then it stops as suddenly as it started. It lasts for a second, maybe two, and then it stops as suddenly as it started.

  Meg jumps to her feet and stares at me. She’s thinking the same thing as me.

  ‘That was Honor,’ I breathe.

  It’s not easy to work out where the scream came from but we head in the general direction, adrenaline powering our exhausted legs and fear making us forget our parched mouths. We reach a knot of undergrowth so tightly woven there’s no way through it.

  ‘Which way now?’ Meg asks.

  I shake my head. ‘I don’t know.’

  Without any sound to guide us it’s impossible to know where to run next. I turn in a circle, tipping the torch low to see which direction looks the least overgrown, and then I see it, a pink and white flip-flop embedded under a log.

  ‘This way!’ I beckon Meg. ‘She went this way!’

  We run and we leap, scratching our arms as we shove thorny branches out of our way, our lungs burning, our legs aching, and then finally, just when I think I can’t run anymore I see a gap in the trees, a small patch of rough ground beyond, and Danny, lit by a flaming torch, crouched in the mouth of a cave. As he adjusts his position I catch a glimpse of blonde hair and a pale flash of skin.

  ‘Honor!’ I clutch Meg’s arm. ‘He’s found her. Oh thank God.’

  Danny’s got his back to us so I can’t see his face but he looks as though he’s just fought a war. His hair’s in ratty tendrils that cling to his scalp, his green T-shirt has a dark stripe of sweat between his shoulder blades and the soles of his grubby feet are striped with blood.

  ‘Dan!’ Meg shouts, nudging me as she pushes past. ‘How is she? What happened?’

  Danny’s expression as he turns to look at Meg is like nothing I’ve ever seen in my life. But it’s not the terror in his eyes that makes all the hairs goes up on my arms, it’s his howl of anguish. It’s the noise an animal makes when a predator’s stalking its young. Danny’s not helping Honor to escape the cave, he’s sitting astride her, pinning her arms to her side.

  ‘I won’t let you take her away from me, Meg. You’ll have to kill me first.’

  I grip Meg’s shoulder, stopping her from taking another step. She doesn’t resist. Danny’s guttural yell is so powerful it’s as though a gust of wind has blown her back towards me.

  As he shouts at her, gesturing wildly, telling her to stay away, Honor tries to squirms out from beneath him. She’s caked in dirt, her fingernails are black and there are red sores around her wrists and mouth.

  ‘Help!’ she screams as she tries to shuffle out of the cave, her bloodshot eyes wide with terror. ‘Help me!’

  Danny lunges after her, grabbing her by the ankle. She lets out a terrified scream, her fingernails scraping through the dirt as he yanks her backwards.

  ‘What the hell!’ Meg pulls away from me, crossing the small clearing in a dozen strides. She crouches beside Honor and gathers her into her arms. She strokes her hair away from her face and makes soft, sympathetic noises, telling her everything’s going to be OK.

  ‘Get off her!’ Danny grabs the back of Meg’s T-shirt and hauls her away. ‘Don’t you dare touch her.’

  ‘Danny!’ I shout, but it’s as though he’s forgotten I even exist. All his attention is focused on Meg. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes are dark and he’s muttering something I can’t hear.

  ‘Get off me!’ Meg twists sharply and thumps at his arm with a clenched fist. ‘Get your filthy hands off me!’

  As Danny slackens his grip on Meg’s T-shirt I let out a sigh of relief. The next second he grabs a handful of her hair and yanks her to her feet.

  As she screams in pain I leap forward. ‘Danny!’ I shout. ‘What the—’

  I stop in my tracks as he pulls a knife – the one Jefferson lost – out of the pocket of his shorts and holds it to Meg’s throat. Honor, curled up in a ball on the ground, whimpers with fear.

  ‘Danny…’ A cold chill runs through me, paralysing my limbs and freezing my brain. I can’t make sense of what I’m seeing. Meg’s clawing at the arm around her throat and Honor’s feet are bound with tape.

  ‘It’s OK, Honor,’ Danny coos. ‘It’s OK, babe. You’re safe. She can’t hurt you now.’

  ‘Danny… you need to let Meg go.’

  He jolts at the sound of my voice, but when he looks in my direction it’s as though he’s staring straight through me.

  ‘Danny,’ I say again. ‘You’re hurting Meg. Let her go.’

  He shakes his head, pulling her closer. She squeals in pain and grabs at his arm, digging her fingernails into his tanned skin. Danny doesn’t react.

  I look from his impassive expression to Honor’s tear-streaked face to Meg’s bewildered, terrified eyes. I feel like I’m in a nightmare but no amount of telling myself to wake up is
going to make it stop.

  ‘It was Meg,’ Danny says. ‘It was always Meg.’

  ‘What was?’ she screams. ‘What was me?’

  ‘Sssh. Sssh. Sssh. Sssh.’ He angles the knife so the sharp tip dents the soft skin of her neck. She whimpers but says nothing. She stares at me imploringly, silently begging me to help her.

  ‘Meg made all the phobias come true,’ Danny says. ‘I couldn’t work out why but then she explained it. She wanted to punish us for leaving her out of the group and—’

  ‘I didn’t,’ Meg gasps. ‘I didn’t punish anyone. I haven’t done any—’

  ‘Sssh.’ A shallow pool of blood appears around the knife edge and she moans in fear.

  My heart’s beating so quickly I feel sick. ‘Danny, put the knife down. Please, you’re hurting her.’

  ‘Good. She was going to kill Honor.’

  The blank look in his eyes has been replaced by a new, manic intensity. I don’t know if he’s eaten something poisonous by accident or if he’s ill but something’s very, very wrong with him. Whatever he thinks Meg has done he utterly believes it. My only hope of talking him out of hurting her is to go along with it. If he thinks I’m on his side, that I believe him, he might listen to me.

  ‘Is this about the phobias?’ I ask. ‘Remember we talked about them… the spiders and the snake in the pit?’

  Danny’s expression shifts the tiniest bit, from anger to relief. He wants – needs – an ally. Whatever it is he believes he needs someone else to back him up.

  ‘I got it wrong,’ he says, ‘when I blamed Jeffers. It was Meg all along.’

  ‘Meg hasn’t done anything wrong,’ Honor says from the ground. Without either of us noticing she’s shifted away so she’s out of Danny’s reach.

  The light in his eyes goes out instantly. ‘She tricked you,’ he says. ‘She tricked all of us. She put that monkey’s head in her bag and thought that would make her look innocent.’

  Honor and I share a look. The horror I feel is reflected in her eyes.

  ‘She had it all planned,’ Danny continues. ‘From the moment we set foot on the island she—’

  ‘WHAT THE HELL?’

  Milo explodes out of the jungle, his eyes dark and furious. Jeffers follows, a split second behind.

  ‘Milo, no!’ I run towards him, blocking his route to Danny. If he attacks him Meg will get hurt. Or worse. God only knows what Danny’s capable of right now. ‘Jeffers, stop him! Stop him!’

  The panic in my scream has an immediate effect on Jeffers. He launches himself at Milo like a rugby player, whipping his legs out from beneath him, sending him sprawling to the ground.

  ‘He’s not well!’ I shout as Milo kicks out at Jefferson. ‘Danny’s not well. Don’t… please… don’t…’

  Milo glances at me and, for one horrible second, I feel the full force of his rage – I’m defending the boy who’s got a knife to his sister’s throat – but then he looks away sharply and gets to his feet.

  ‘Let her go.’ His whole body shakes as he stares at Danny. It’s taking every ounce of willpower he’s got not to launch himself at him, fists flying.

  ‘Tell them, Danny,’ I shout. ‘Tell them what Meg’s done.’

  Milo snaps round to look at me and it’s back, the anger and recrimination behind his eyes. Trust me, I will him, please, just trust me. Jefferson, standing beside him, nursing his elbow shoots me a confused look.

  ‘Go on,’ I say. ‘Tell them about the phobias.’

  Danny’s gaze doesn’t shift from Milo. The air is charged with tension. There’s so much hostility and anger it feels like a nuclear bomb, waiting to go off. If it does it will devastate us all.

  ‘He’s not going to do anything,’ I say. ‘Are you, Milo?’

  A tendon pulses in his jaw. ‘I’ll listen if he lowers the knife.’ As he speaks a bead of blood dribbles down Meg’s neck towards the top of her T-shirt.

  ‘Danny,’ I say. ‘Can you do that? Move the knife away from Meg’s neck? She’s not going to go anywhere or try anything. Are you, Meg?’

  Her skin is pale and clammy and her knuckles are white from clinging on to Danny’s arm, but the terror in her eyes has been replaced by cold defiance. Now the shock of being grabbed has died away she’s ready to fight back.

  ‘Meg?’ I say again.

  She gives me a long look. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing, Jess.’

  ‘Is that a yes?’

  She presses her lips together, struggling with the decision. ‘I won’t run.’

  For a couple of seconds Danny does nothing, but then he slowly relaxes his grip on Meg’s throat and the tip of the knife lifts from her skin.

  ‘The phobias,’ I remind him. ‘Tell the others what you know.’

  ‘Meg’s been trying to punish us,’ he says, ‘by making our phobias come true.’

  Milo’s lips part in protest but he swallows the words back.

  ‘It began with you,’ Danny says, looking at him. ‘I don’t know how she dug the pit, or even if she did, but she made sure there was a snake in there before she lured you towards it.’

  ‘Snake?’ Jeffers says. ‘I didn’t see a snake.’

  I hold up a hand. ‘Just let him continue.’

  For once he shrugs and lets it drop.

  ‘The spiders were next,’ Danny says. ‘Meg covered Honor with them and took off Anuman’s boots to make prints in the sand. She wanted us to believe that Jefferson was responsible.’

  Meg catches my eye and lightly shakes her head. I don’t want Danny to think we’re colluding against him so instead of shooting her a sympathetic look I glance away.

  ‘I don’t know why she lured Jefferson off the cliff next, instead of leaving him until last, but she did. Then she set light to Jessie’s blanket and tried to burn her alive.’

  ‘Bullshit!’ Milo says, disguising it as a cough. If Danny notices he doesn’t let on. He’s caught up in his tale, his eyes darting manically from left to right, as though he’s expecting someone else to come leaping out from the jungle.

  ‘Then she left me a message in the sand.’

  ‘What message?’ Honor asks. She’s backed herself all the way to Jefferson’s feet, frantically picking at the tape that binds her ankles whenever Danny’s eyes are averted.

  ‘One of you will die. She meant you, babe.’

  Jefferson leans closer to me. ‘What’s wrong with him?’ he hisses in my ear.

  ‘Meg left her own phobia for last,’ Danny continues, ‘which was stupid but she thought she’d got away with it by then. The way she smiled when she opened her bag… who does that? A psychopath, that’s who.’

  Milo stiffens. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

  ‘Show him, Jessie,’ Danny says. ‘You’ve got the bag.’

  ‘This bag?’ I unhook Meg’s day pack from my arm and hold it out towards him.

  ‘Yeah. Tip it out.’

  I invert the bag and shake the contents onto the dusty jungle floor. An empty bottle of water falls out along with some suntan lotion, a half pack of chewing gum, some fishing twine and half a dozen pretty shells.

  ‘Where is it?’ he asks. ‘Where’s the monkey head?’

  Meg’s jaw drops. ‘The what?’

  Danny points at the day pack. ‘How’d you get the blood out?’

  There are water stains along the base, the embroidery is unravelling and there’s a dirty footprint near one of the handles but there isn’t a drop of blood on the bag. There’s never been any. I thought I knew where this conversation was going but Danny’s completely thrown me. I don’t know what this means. I feel completely out of my depth. I want to help him but I don’t know how.

  ‘Danny, I’m not sure what you’re talking ab—’

  ‘You swapped it!’ He tightens his grip around Meg’s throat, making her squeal in shock. ‘She must have two,’ he says to us.

  ‘Danny, stop!’ I say. ‘You’re cutting off her air supply. Danny! You promised me you wouldn�
��t hurt her.’

  ‘But she’s tricked me. She’s tricked all of us.’

  ‘It’s Meg’s bag. I promise! Look, there’s the rip from when she caught it on a thorn, there’s the stain at the bottom from where her pen leaked while we were on the boat. This is her bag, Danny. There isn’t another one.’

  ‘But you were all there. You saw her open it.’ There’s so much anguish on his face I can barely bring myself to look at him.

  A memory flashes up in my brain, of Danny screaming as he sped into the jungle after Meg opened her bag. And just like that the final piece of the jigsaw slots into place.

  ‘Meg’s phobia,’ I say. ‘It’s blood.’

  ‘Yes.’ He nods wildly. ‘But she set it up. She killed the monkey. She put its head in her bag. We all saw it.’ He’s breathing quickly now, his chest rising and falling.

  ‘You saw it,’ I say carefully. ‘Just like you saw the other phobias come true.’

  ‘Yes,’ he says again. ‘Yes, yes.’

  ‘Only…’ I try to swallow but my mouth is so dry I can’t.

  ‘Only what?’ Jefferson asks. ‘What is it, Jessie?’

  ‘Danny… you were the only one who saw the phobias come true.’

  ‘That’s not true.’

  I unwrap the blanket from around my neck and hold it out to him, running it through my fingers to show him the edges. ‘Look, it’s not burnt.’ I take a step towards him. ‘Look at the blanket, Danny. It’s not singed or blackened. It wasn’t on fire. Neither was I.’

  His eyes, clouded with confusion, flick from the blanket to my legs and feet. ‘I saw the flames, Jessie. I swear. I definitely saw them. You must have… you must have put something on your skin, something to heal it and the blanket… you must have… you must have…’ The words fall away and he shakes his head. ‘I know what I saw.’

  ‘You saw a snake too, didn’t you? In the pit with Milo. But Milo didn’t see it. Neither did Jeffers. And the spiders, the ones that crawled all over Honor…’ I glance down at her. ‘Danny said they were crawling all over you. Did you see them? Feel them?’

  She shakes her head, not daring to look at him. ‘I… I was having a nightmare and then… then all of a sudden I was awake and Danny was slapping me and shouting and I heard the word spiders and I freaked out.’