New Year Island

by Paul Draker

  Juan laughed, then doubled over in pain, holding his head. “Against the rules? It doesn’t look like there are any.”

  He pushed to his feet. “Still no sign of Travis?”

  “Fuck him,” Lauren said. “We don’t need his type.”

  Juan looked at her, surprised. Then he pointed to the rock again.

  “Jordan’s completely out of control. Now I’m really wondering about Travis. Maybe that crazy bitch killed him.”

  CHAPTER 70

  Camilla skidded to a halt next to the fallen lighthouse tower, her sneakers sliding on dirt. The island’s highest point gave her a 360-degree view across the rocky surface and most of the large beach below. Jordan ran along the beach now, holding the red flag again. She had said she would stay to defend their own flag, but clearly she hadn’t.

  Mason had taken way too long to tie up Travis. Camilla was glad to see him climbing the breakwater toward her. But now Veronica was in red territory, too. Why wasn’t anybody protecting their base? Teamwork was breaking down; everyone was doing their own thing. She needed to get them working together again before it was too late.

  Sure enough, Lauren came tearing up the ramp from the blue base, holding their blue flag. She sprinted toward the barricade, crossing blue territory unchallenged.

  “Mason, we’re defending!” Camilla shouted. “Tag Lauren!”

  Action down on the beach drew her eye. JT now stood between Jordan and the blue base, blocking her. Juan rounded the other corner, and they had Jordan trapped.

  Dodging and weaving among the seals, Jordan cut toward the water as the red team closed in from both sides. Then, to Camilla’s surprise, she threw the red flag into the surf and sprinted away, leaving JT and Juan staring at their soaked banner—and the angry bull elephant seal she had thrown it in front of.

  How did that help the blue team? Camilla felt disoriented again, as if everyone else were playing a different game from the one she was playing, with rules no one had explained to her. She closed her eyes and concentrated. What was going on?

  The first team to plant the flag twice more would win, but nobody was defending their bases. Nobody was trying to tag members of the other team coming after their flag. Her fellow players were smart, too. What was she missing here?

  In her head, Camilla heard Reuben’s words after she won her Teambuilder award: “It shouldn’t always be about the team.” And Mason’s last night: “The grand prize isn’t a team award.” Oh god, it was all so clear now. Julian had been clever, calling this capture the flag game a team challenge. Because it wasn’t really a team game at all. Her own team-oriented mind-set had blinded her. Julian’s scoring rules meant that only three things really mattered to your own individual score: planting the flag yourself, tagging someone carrying your flag, and not getting tagged while carrying theirs.

  Camilla opened her eyes and grinned. She needed to tag Lauren before her teammate Mason did. She sprinted toward Lauren as Mason closed in from the other side.

  Lauren’s face crumpled, realizing they had her trapped against the edge of the bluff.

  JT’s voice drifted up from the beach. “Lauren, throw me the flag.”

  “No,” Lauren shouted back. “I’m taking it all the way.”

  “God damn it, girl, they have you.”

  Throwing the flag off the bluff, Lauren spun on Mason and swatted him hard in the ear with her open hand, knocking him to the ground.

  “Tag.” She stalked off.

  Camilla helped a stunned-looking Mason to his feet. “You didn’t have to do that,” she called after Lauren. “You really hurt him.”

  “Whoops.” Lauren didn’t look back.

  Mason shook his head to clear it, and a trickle of blood ran from his ear. Picking up his glasses, he stumbled to the bluff. Camilla followed, and they stared down at the beach.

  Juan had recovered the red flag, avoiding the elephant seal somehow. JT now held the blue flag Lauren had thrown him. Together, they ran around the corner.

  Camilla’s neck tensed as cheers erupted in the distance; JT had planted their flag.

  They were now losing, two to one.

  If the red team scored again, the game would be over.

  CHAPTER 71

  Running along the beach, staying close to the bluff, Camilla followed Mason as they dodged around clusters of seals. He was laughing, with the red flag gripped in his hands—they had found it unguarded, and he had reached it seconds before she had. Jordan stood on the raised walkway ahead, waving them forward. They rounded a corner and skidded to a stop, almost colliding with the red team coming the other way.

  Lauren, JT, and Juan slid to a halt ten feet in front of them. The blue flagpole was clenched in JT’s fists.

  The two teams faced each other, holding each other’s flags. Whose territory were they in? Camilla glanced up at the bluff, trying to figure out which side of the seal barricade they were on. She couldn’t see.

  Jordan jumped off the walkway and ran toward them.

  “Give me our flag,” JT said. “Don’t make me come get it.” The threat in his voice was clear.

  “Here you go,” Mason said, still laughing, and suddenly the air between the two teams was filled with a cloud of orange.

  Camilla spun toward Mason, who held the black canister one-handed, waving it back and forth, spraying Lauren, JT, and Juan. Screaming in agony, all three dropped to the sand holding their faces, the blue flag still entangled in JT’s arms.

  Too shocked to say anything, Camilla slapped Mason’s arm aside.

  He didn’t stop laughing. Tucking the black cylinder of bear spray into his belt again, he ran forward, gave Lauren a friendly clap on her shoulder where she knelt choking, and scooped the flag out of JT’s arms in the same motion. With a flag in each hand, he took off down the beach, running toward the blue base.

  Coughing and gagging, the red team scrambled to their feet with tears streaming from their eyes. Lauren seemed to have gotten the worst of it. It looked like she was having trouble breathing. Juan threw her arm over his shoulder, and they stumbled toward the surf line. Cursing, JT stood and ran after them.

  “Oh god, sorry,” Camilla called after them. “I didn’t see that coming.”

  Jordan had stopped twenty feet away. Hand over her mouth, she stared after Mason, her eyes widening in shock.

  White-hot anger coursed through Camilla’s body. Mason shouldn’t have done this; it was totally wrong. She sprinted after him.

  • • •

  Camilla caught up with Mason as he rounded the corner onto the limestone bench at the southern end of the island, where their base lay. Without letting herself think too hard about what she was doing, she dived at his legs and wrapped her arms around his shins. He crashed to the ground, glasses flying, dropping both flagpoles as he tried to break his fall with his hands.

  She scrambled forward, grabbed both flags, and slid to her knees in front of the blue base. Dropping the blue flag, she used two hands to jam the red flagpole into the base. Then she picked up the blue flagpole and stood it vertical, but her hands were trembling now. She couldn’t believe what she had just done: she had tackled her own teammate.

  She tried to jam the blue flag into the base, but the end wobbled, missing the hole. She glanced toward Mason, who was sitting up now.

  Swallowing, she tried again. The end of the flagpole skated around the edges of the hole, not going in. She concentrated, staring at the pole and steadying her hands. In her peripheral vision, Mason was walking toward her now.

  Camilla took a deep breath and slid the end of the flagpole along the surface of the base. It dropped into the hole, and she felt a wash of relief. Standing up quickly, she faced Mason.

  She had just seen him pepper-spray three people. He was like one of the problem kids that Euclid House sometimes sent her way: he just did whatever he wanted, with no fear of consequences. What if he was mad at her?

  Unsmiling, he stopped six feet away. She could see no expression
on his face at all. His glasses were dusty, so she couldn’t even really see his eyes. Was he angry? Mason had lousy posture and a habitual stoop, probably because he spent all his time in front of a computer, but that made him look smaller than he really was. For the first time, she realized that he was a lot bigger than she was. He could probably hurt her pretty easily.

  For a long, awkward moment, neither of them said anything. Then he lowered his head and turned away, walking over to the water’s edge.

  “Mason?”

  He didn’t answer, didn’t look at her.

  Camilla’s throat was suddenly tight. Mason wasn’t angry; he was upset. She hadn’t realized how much she had come to enjoy her irreverent buddy’s company. What had she been thinking? Now she had destroyed their developing friendship.

  Then she pictured Lauren, gagging and choking in the sand, Juan and JT scrubbing at their faces. Eyes narrowing, Camilla marched forward and yanked the bear spray out of his belt. Stepping back, she whipped her arm sideways and threw the black cylinder out into the crashing whitewater.

  “I don’t care about Julian’s stupid rules,” she said. “Here’s mine, Mason: you don’t get points for hurting people.”

  Behind his glasses, he blinked.

  She stared up into his face, defiant.

  Then he grinned. Wincing, he bent down to rub his knees. “No points for hurting people, huh?” The elbows and knees of his suit were torn. Blood showed through the rips and welled from the abrasions on his palms.

  Camilla flushed; her tackle had done all that. She was such a hypocrite.

  Slowly, painfully, he dropped to sit on the ground. “I’m not giving you any more advice. It seems I’ve created a monster.”

  “Oh god, Mason, your hands! I’m sorry, but you—”

  Laughing, he waved her away, rubbing at his injuries. “Congratulations. I guess you and our team captain are two of a kind.”

  Sensing someone at the top of the ramp, she looked up to see Veronica staring at her. She had been standing there all along. Her pale, silvery eyes bored into Camilla, icy with judgment. Camilla couldn’t believe she had actually mistaken this woman for a soccer mom. But shame washed over her, making her face hot.

  She couldn’t meet Veronica’s gaze.

  CHAPTER 72

  Splashing sounds. Coughing and gagging next to her. Her own choking noises, too. She couldn’t breathe. A strong arm around her shoulder, holding her steady. All she could see was red. Then a blurry glimpse of JT on his knees, cupped hands scooping seawater onto his face. Oh Christ, she couldn’t take a breath. Steel bands cinched around her chest, crushing. And the pain, like frostbite thawing all over her face.

  Lauren threw up.

  She sucked in a gasping breath, hearing it wheeze into her lungs. She heaved again, tasting acid and the peanut sauce from the last MRE. Her legs buckled. Juan supported her, splashing more water into her eyes with his free hand, scrubbing her face like a little kid’s.

  Shoving him angrily aside, she fell to her knees in the surf.

  She threw herself facedown into the water and held her eyes open with shaking fingers. The salt water was cold, soothing. She could hear Juan nearby, his voice a hoarse croak, talking to JT:

  “Stay with me, man. We need to focus.”

  “I swear I’m going to kill that little shit,” JT rasped. “I can’t see.”

  Lauren rolled onto her back, hyperventilating, chest spasming. The sky was a blur above her. Her eyes stung, throbbed. Her face was on fire. She wiped her nose, and her wrist came away coated with snot. Then her wrist started burning, too.

  She lay there, panting, until she got her breathing under control.

  “Score’s two-two,” she said, staring up at the sky. “We’re going to win this thing, and I don’t give a fuck what we have to do to them to do it.”

  • • •

  Cracking her knuckles, Lauren watched Camilla jog away after handing the red team’s flag back to Juan. Little Miss Politician thought her apology was worth something? Lauren had just glared at her. That must be how it worked in the corporate world: lie, cheat, and steal; then send the doe-eyed ones to say “sorry.” Real cute. Psycho Barbie was probably running toward them along the beach already, coming to steal their flag again.

  JT ground the heels of his hands into his eyes. They were bloodshot almost solid red. Lauren was pretty sure hers looked the same.

  “All right, Captain,” she said to Juan. “The plan. You’ve got one, right? Astonish us with your brilliance.” Her eyes narrowed. “But you and JT both scored already. This time, I plant the blue flag.”

  Juan nodded. Then he pulled the red flag out of its base and walked to the water’s edge. The ropes they had used yesterday to go after the water jugs still trailed across the waves toward the distant boulders. Grabbing a rope with one hand, he braced himself. Then he plunged into the whitewater, taking the flag with him.

  A minute later, he stood in front of JT and Lauren again, dripping onto the rocks. He was no longer holding their flag. Tilting his head, he cleared water out of his ear with a twist of his finger. Then he pointed toward the blue base.

  “Now we all go.”

  • • •

  Mason was alone, standing next to the blue flag. Grinning.

  “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Lauren said. “We should try not to hurt you too badly why, again?”

  He reached behind him. “I wonder if anyone’s ever been bear-sprayed twice in one day before? Once is probably enough for most people.”

  She flinched, then stepped forward, angry with herself. “Do it and I kill you.”

  “Take the flag. Just please don’t hurt me.”

  “Chickenshit.” She grabbed the flagpole, but before she could yank it out of the base, Mason’s other hand darted forward, tapping her wrist.

  “Tag.”

  He scooted back fast, looking ready to yank the bear spray out from behind him.

  Oh Christ, he had just taken five points from her.”You little asshole.” Lauren’s fists clenched. “You’re dead.”

  Juan laid a hand on her shoulder. “Back up, Mason,” he said. “Now.” His voice was mild, but Mason retreated a few steps.

  Juan waved Natalie forward. “Natalie, grab the flag.”

  Lauren stared at him. Why was he giving the flag to the most useless member of their team? But he only pointed up the ramp.

  She met Mason’s eyes. “Later for you.” Then she followed JT’s broad shoulders up the slope.

  Sprinting ahead of the others, Lauren looked back, smirking at how slow Natalie was. Running flat out, she hurdled the barricade, and her foot came down on a bird nest. She winced at the crunch of eggs and fragile bones beneath her shoe, but she didn’t stop. Mason had tagged her out… but once she touched her own base, she would be back in play.

  CHAPTER 73

  “Where’s their flag? Camilla asked.

  “They hid it.” Jordan’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh my god, Julian never said we couldn’t.”

  Veronica snorted. “What kind of imbecile dreamed up these rules?”

  They stood staring down at the empty plastic cone that was the red base. A scrambling noise came from behind, and Lauren shot down the slope beside them.

  “Back up, everybody,” Camilla said. “Don’t let her tag you.”

  But Lauren ran to the red base. When she knelt and slapped it with her hand, Camilla understood that Mason had tagged Lauren again. She looked so angry—didn’t Mason understand he was going to get himself killed here?

  Juan skated down the slope and stopped next to Lauren, his eyes narrowing when he spotted Jordan. JT slid to a halt beside the two of them.

  Juan pointed at Camilla and her teammates. “Tag them,” he said. Then, to her surprise, he plunged into the water.

  Jordan pointed up the slope the red team had descended. “That means Natalie’s got our flag up there,” she said. “Get her.”

  Camilla charged up the slo
pe, spotting Natalie a short distance away, out of breath, the blue flag drooping in her arms. She looked up, an expression of resignation on her face, and then her gaze flicked past Camilla’s shoulder.

  Camilla tried to dodge, but too late. A hand caught the back of her shirt, jerking her backward, and a thick arm wrapped around her upper arms and chest.

  JT laughed. “Tag.” But he didn’t let go. Instead he hoisted her off her feet, and she found herself being carried under his arm like a misbehaving child.

  “Put me down.” She tried to wriggle free.

  “Nah,” he said. “Can’t trust any of you to play fair.” The muscles of his arm tightened like a python coiling around a deer.

  “Get your hands off her right now,” Veronica said from nearby.

  Camilla’s face flushed. This was embarrassing enough, being carried like a doll. Having Veronica rescue her would be even more humiliating. She struggled but couldn’t move.

  “I mean it.” Veronica’s tone turned jagged. “Let her go.”

  JT jerked forward, jouncing Camilla against his arm. “Gotcha. Double play.” Veronica’s face was suddenly inches from Camilla’s, and JT’s other arm was wrapped around Veronica’s shoulders, pulling her against his chest.

  “Take it in, Natalie!” he yelled. “Lauren, cover her. I got these two.”

  Veronica had been trying to help her, and now JT had them both. “Sorry,” Camilla said to her.

  Blazing with icy blue fury, Veronica’s pale eyes met Camilla’s for a second; then she looked down. She raised a knee high between them and stomped hard, raking the side of her shoe along JT’s shin, like a skateboarder grinding a rail. Her foot smashed into the top of his arch with crushing force, and he let go of both women. Camilla fell to her hands and knees and drew in a gasping breath.

  Veronica spun on JT and raised a finger, leveling it at his face. “Don’t you ever lay a hand on one of us again. Not ever.”