Solstice

by Lorence Alison

  I caught up to Zack, who looked wrecked. “Are you all right?”

  He shook his head. His eyes were glazed. He barely saw where he was going, stumbling over a jutting log. “I’m just having a hard time believing Paul could do this.”

  “Well, maybe he didn’t,” I said. “Maybe someone planted the shirt in his trailer?”

  Zack just looked at me emptily, as though he didn’t really believe that theory.

  “How did the kids find … Madison?” I asked.

  Zack let out a ragged breath. “They were her friends, part of a group she came with. She went into the woods to pee, they said. But then … she didn’t come back after a really long time. It was dark; they thought she might have lost her way … God.” He shut his eyes. “One of them said she heard a strange sound, so she rushed off to see what was going on. But then they found her on the ground. She wasn’t breathing.”

  “A strange sound?” My heart was pounding so fast. “Like … what?”

  Zack shrugged. “They didn’t say. There are so many questions. That’s why we need to get to the boat—we need to reach out to the police, all police. The other thing, with the boy—it could have been an accident. It looked like an accident. But this? You don’t just drop dead walking down a trail.”

  “Did they … see someone? Something?”

  Zack started down a gradual incline and shook his head. “It was too dark.” Then he peered ahead. “What the hell?”

  He pointed down the stairs to the shoreline. The narrow beach was already packed with people. Tons of concertgoers were already in the water, too, swimming out to the yachts that were moored in the pitch-black sea.

  My mouth dropped open. It was so late at night. The ocean was so dark. Didn’t they realize it was dangerous?

  “Damn it,” Zack said under his breath, perhaps thinking the same thing I was. He raised the bullhorn he was still holding to his mouth. “Everyone in the water! Come back in! You’ll die out there!” He shined his flashlight across the sea. The heads still bobbed. No one listened.

  Zack gritted his teeth. “They have to come in.” He glanced pleadingly at Steve. “Can you run back to the festival site and grab some more workers? We need as much help as we can get to bring everyone back to shore.”

  Steve sniffed. “I’m not going back there alone.”

  “Steve, come on!” Zack sounded exasperated. “We need five or six more guys. You really want to be responsible for dozens of people drowning?”

  One of Steve’s shoulders rose indifferently. “I mean, it was their choice to go in. Didn’t you have them sign waivers saying we’re not responsible for what they do when they’re off the festival grounds?”

  “This isn’t about the legality of it!” Zack slapped his arms to his sides. But then, glowering at his cousin, he brushed past him, sideswiping his shoulder. “Forget it. I’ll do it myself.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at Elena and me, then pointed toward a copse of palm trees. “Marx’s Zodiac is over there. It’s not hard to drive. Get out there, get on a phone, and call the police.”

  Elena and I nodded and ran for the palms. We found the Zodiac and dragged it across the sand. Steve helped, breathing heavily. We pushed the Zodiac into the waves and climbed aboard. Steve was about to crank up the motor when I heard splashes behind me. At least six kids tried to clamber onto the raft, but they added so much weight to the thing that it began to take on water.

  “What the hell?” Steve bellowed. “Get off! This is private!”

  “Please,” a guy said. His face was shadowy in the darkness, but I could see how wide his eyes were. “Please let us on. We can’t stay here. We’re so scared.”

  “No, man!” Steve said. “We’re going to a private yacht. Sorry.”

  “Steve,” I said through gritted teeth. “Let him on!”

  Steve glowered. “We need to save ourselves. He’ll make the raft too heavy.”

  “We could at least try,” I urged. We couldn’t just leave people behind. Not with a murderer on the loose. It was unthinkable.

  Steve’s shrug seemed to say, No way. He cranked up the motor. The boat lurched sluggishly forward. But then more people swarmed out of the woodwork, splashing through the waves to get to us, trying to climb onto the boat, too.

  “Wait!” I cried when a kid grabbed on to the boat’s sides, intending perhaps to just be dragged through the water to the yacht. “You’re welcome to take shelter, but we have to make multiple trips, okay?”

  Steve shot me a look. “Hell no. I am not making multiple trips!”

  He peeled the guy’s fingers from the side of the boat, but the guy just gripped tighter. “Don’t leave me here with that thing over the dunes!”

  Elena and I exchanged shocked glances. Thing over the dunes?

  “Just wait on the shore for the next trip,” Elena begged him. “Your legs will drag into the motor. You could end up without a foot … or worse.”

  “I’ll take that chance!” the guy screamed.

  He dug his nails into the rubber, and there was a pop. I instantly knew what had happened. The part of the raft he was holding onto lost its shape, deflating into a flat, useless tube. The guy floundered, kicking, sinking, horrified at what he’d just done.

  Steve stared at the puncture in the boat, then at me. “See?”

  The raft seemed to deflate at once. Everyone tipped into the waves.

  The water was shockingly chilly. I felt a wave drag me under and fought to the surface. Elena bobbed up as well, spluttering and coughing. She paddled for me, panic in her eyes, and we clung to each other, breathing hard. A wave crashed over us, seemingly out of nowhere. Just as we were recovering, another came. Elena pointed toward the twinkling lights out at sea. It seemed like there were quite a few less than yesterday—no surprise—but we thought we could make out Captain Marx’s Lady Luck’s distinctive light pattern among the group.

  “I think we can swim for it,” she said.

  I shrugged. It seemed like as good a plan as any—as long as we could get past these initial breakers. “Let’s go.”

  Elena and I started kicking as hard as we could, fighting against the current. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Steve swimming behind us, too. But then, as I was switching to breaststroke kick, I felt a sharp pain on my calf. Fire jolted through my hip, and then the bottom of my foot. I stopped and screamed.

  “What the hell?” I peered into the dark water. “Something just bit me!”

  Next to me, Elena was screaming, too. “It’s in my suit! Something’s in my suit!”

  “It’s jellyfish!” a random voice shouted from a few yards away, staring in horror at something in the water. “I see one! There’s a jellyfish bloom!”

  Steve was screaming, too, as though a whole swarm of jellyfish had taken up residence in his swimsuit. “I can’t stand it!” he cried. He turned for the shore. I tried to keep swimming, but my legs were throbbing in pain, too. There was no way I could go on, either.

  Moaning, I headed back to shore. So did Elena. A big wave carried us in, dumping us onto the sand. We washed up on the beach, wailing and dripping and clutching our stinging limbs. I expected to see Steve next to us, but the beach was empty. After a few deep breaths, I caught sight of a figure running for the very last boat, bobbing in knee-deep water.

  “Let me on,” a familiar voice said. People shoved over, and the figure climbed in. “Okay, go,” he said. “Go.”

  I had to do a double take before I understood what I was looking at. “Elena,” I whispered, pointing. It was Steve. He faced the horizon, the torch flickering against his face, his jaw set in a line.

  “Steve!” Elena cried. “Hey, Steve!”

  Steve seemed to look through us. The shock of it was worse than the plunge into the water. Elena’s lips pressed together like she was trying hard not to cry. I placed a hand on her shoulder. Steve’s canoe drifted past the waves. Moments later, it disappeared from view.

  “Elena…,” I started.
But I had no words.

  Shivering, I glanced over my shoulder at the dunes. We were the only people left on the beach. Had everyone else truly gotten onto a boat? Had some powered through the jellyfish stings to the yachts? Would Elena and I have to hike back up those slippery steps and through those imposing woods … alone?

  “We’re sitting ducks,” I said, tears clouding my vision.

  “What are we supposed to do?” Elena asked. “Should we just stay here all night? Someone’s going to come for us, right?”

  “But why would someone come for us?” I asked. I stared at the lapping waves. They looked so innocuous from here. Certainly not riddled with stinging, angry creatures.

  “Can we hide in a tent, maybe?” Elena suggested. “Perhaps someone will let us bunk with them.”

  I shook my head, not certain that was a good solution, either. “But that means we’ll have to go over the dunes again. I’m not sure I want to do that.”

  “Then we’re out of options!” Elena cried.

  “I don’t know.” I wiped the tears from my cheeks. My chest felt like it was going to explode, I was hungry and exhausted and shaky with fear, but I had to try to power through it. I stared toward the dunes, realizing that Zack hadn’t returned with reinforcements yet. What if something had happened to him? What if he was dead now, too?

  Then I had a thought. “Maybe we try to find Paul. And … talk to him.”

  Elena stared at me. “But what if he’s the one murdering people?”

  “We don’t know that,” I argued. “We don’t really know anything.”

  “Adri…” Elena blinked hard. “That sounds like a terrible idea.”

  “But it’s the only idea we have. And besides, Paul knows this island. If it isn’t him, he could help us get to safety.” I stood up and gazed around, then seized a big, sharp stick from the ground and handed it to her. “We can’t let anyone else die, Elena. We have to figure out what’s going on.”

  Elena stared at the stick as though it was covered in radiation. I found another stick just as sharp and pointy and gripped it in my fist. “Come on,” I said, starting up the steps. To my relief, she followed.

  We hurried through the brush. It was slow going, having only a phone app for a flashlight—but after our plunge into the water, I was thrilled my iPhone still worked. No one jumped out from behind any trees or swung from any vines, though, so that felt like a win.

  The night was eerily silent. For a few minutes, the only sounds I heard were our footsteps and Elena’s halting breaths. Then she said, “I’m sorry, Adri.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  “What I said about Hayden. And Steve. And … everything else.”

  I shined my flashlight app on the ground, careful of jutting roots. I didn’t know what to say.

  “Hayden … he seems really nice,” Elena said sheepishly. “I only said it because I was angry. You’re right about Steve—it being an act, him not good enough for me. I know you’re right. I think I knew way before he abandoned us in the boat.” She punctuated this with a laugh, but it actually sounded like she might burst into tears.

  “Well, I’m sorry, too,” I said. “I never meant to make you feel … less than me. I mean, God, El. That’s ludicrous!”

  “You’re just so smart.” Elena’s feet sloshed through the mud. “And determined. And ambitious. I feel like a silly girl who likes clothes.”

  “You’re way more than a silly girl who likes clothes.”

  “But seriously, I get self-conscious around you. Though I’m wondering if I project that self-consciousness onto things you say, twist them around and hear them to mean something they don’t.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at her, unable to conceal a smile. “Has someone been going to therapy?”

  “No.” Elena ducked her head. “But I should. The relationship with my dad makes no sense. It’s super dysfunctional. We never actually talk. He never shows me he loves me except by buying me things.” She sighed. “Which, actually, is what Steve does, too.”

  “It’s easy to fall into old patterns,” I said gently, shining my light on a tree stump in our path. “I mean, look—I wanted to like Steve. Honest. But when I saw his true colors … You’re amazing, El. Smart, gorgeous, funny. You should have someone who’s just as good.”

  “Thanks,” Elena said quietly.

  We crunched through wet leaves a few moments more, and then I said, “So you like Hayden?”

  “I only know him through study hall, but he seems really sweet. Quiet, you know—mysterious, maybe? But actually, he seems like a good match for you. He’s serious … but he also seems to have a fun side.”

  “He’s the one who convinced me to come with you to this,” I said miserably.

  Elena chuckled sadly. “Well, don’t hold that too harshly against him.”

  Above us, the sky was a deep blue black and glittering with stars. I felt so disconnected from the world, but very much a part of it at the same time. It was so jarring that, even when it felt like the world might end, even in such chaos, everything felt so normal, minute by minute—the ache in the bottom of my feet, the conversation I was having with Elena, the same stars above our heads.

  We reached the road, and I looked right and left, my heart pounding in my ears. I could hear the panicked wails of the festivalgoers through the darkness. Someone yelled through a bullhorn, “We need order. You cross over the border, and your life is in your hands. Do you understand?”

  Then I saw a glint of silver ahead. The roadside market stood a few paces away, its windows shuttered for the night. It startled me. I was so disoriented—I hadn’t realized we were on this side of the festival grounds. Then I realized something else: The only vehicle parked in the lot, plain as day, was a stripped-down, rusty pickup truck. Where had I seen one of those? My heart froze as I realized.

  Outside Paul’s trailer.

  I grabbed Elena’s arm. “That’s Paul’s truck,” I whispered, shakily pointing at it. So Paul was creeping around the Solstice property? Or was he just doing his job as the coordinator?

  “And look,” Elena whispered, pointing to the back of the van. Smoke rose from the tailpipe in thick, gray curls. The parking lights shone red. My heart flipped over. Was someone inside? This seemed like an unbelievable stroke of luck—perhaps we could speak with Paul right now.

  We tiptoed over, sticking just inside the tree line, ducking behind trunks and giant shrubs. I turned off my flashlight app and prayed we wouldn’t stumble over any logs or encounter any snakes in the brush. My fingers trembled, making my walking stick wobble. I heard Elena’s nervous breathing. The van’s windows were tinted, so I had no idea who was in there. What if Paul was armed? What if he was a killer?

  “Everyone!” a voice burst behind us down the trail, much closer than I’d expected. “There’s shelter this way! You can lie low there!”

  Elena and I froze and exchanged a confused look. It was a man’s voice—a familiar voice—but not Paul’s. We squinted through the thick vines, but it was too dark to see anything. There were sounds of panicked murmurs and quick footsteps; a flashlight beam zigzagged off trees. Did someone else know Paul was dangerous, maybe? Perhaps we should fall in line with the people in the woods?

  I glanced at Elena. By the conflicted look on her face, I could tell she was thinking the same thing. That voice sounded so comforting and sure. It certainly seemed like a better plan to follow a crowd to safety than to lurk outside a murderer’s van.

  “Maybe we should…,” I began.

  “Yeah,” Elena interrupted. “Let’s go.”

  We pivoted on our heels and headed in the opposite direction. Forget Paul—we needed safety.

  But then something felt wrong. Something pulled me backward. A hand clapped over my mouth, and I murmured a protest, first figuring it was Elena, trying to warn me. The hand pressed in harder, blocking up my nose. I swung around, desperate and confused, startled by Elena’s sheer strength. That’s when I felt someone�
��s elbow knock into me—and I realized Elena was next to me. It was someone else holding both of us, his hands clapped over our mouths, his strong arms keeping both of us from our ambush.

  I swung around, desperate and terrified. And that’s when I saw the face. My heart froze in my chest. My insides went to liquid. Holding me tight, only an inch away, was a face I least expected.

  Paul’s.

  Myla Breaking News:

  STRANGE OCEAN ACTIVITY ON EAST SIDE OF MYLA ISLAND

  EAST MYLA ISLAND: Reports from several sailing vessels have come in about strange ocean activity near the eastern part of the Island. Currents have been very “erratic,” according to boat captains—not behaving in their normal way whatsoever. A longtime sailor remarked that it felt like there was an unusual “pressure” under the water. “Sort of like a fault opening up,” he said. “Sort of like there was going to be an earthquake … except there was no earthquake activity reported.” And local fishermen have reported that an alarming number of fish have turned up dead in the water over the past twenty-four hours. “Almost like the water has been poisoned,” Carmine Lorde, who runs a commercial fishing fleet, mused. “Except we ran tests. Water’s fine.”

  Given that the Solstice Festival is taking place on Myla Island, the royal guard advises that no one venture into the waters around Myla until tides normalize. This includes any boats leaving the island for the Myla International Airport—meaning the young guests who are stranded at the poorly planned Solstice Festival might just be there even longer than they expected.

  (This is a developing story.)

  Comments:

  @jofrank22: That’s what you get, snowflakes. How are you liking Solstice now? #nocleandrinkingwateratSolstice #tenthousanddollarshithole #4billiondollardisaster