Gifts

“A gift,” says Lia, rolling up her pant leg to dig for something in her sock.

When she straightens I’m looking at an Aspen tree during winter months - beautiful, standing tall, almost straight, but not quite; slightly leaning, slightly crooked. All graceful and thin. Coming up out of the ground like a white piece of bone.

“Show us!” Evie dangles her legs in a crevice between two large chunks of stone.

Lia reveals her hand from behind her back, her pale fingers gripping a kitchen steak knife. “We’ll have to cut them out.”

Lia. Beautiful, and completely deranged.

“Cut them out?” Evie repeats.

“You’ve done this before?” Brynn asks. “You know for sure that they’re in us?”

Lia shoves the knife back into her sock before pulling up the sleeves of her shirt. Scars scatter her forearms, her skin a patchwork of jagged lines. “I’ve found it three times now. They always reinsert it in a new location. Yours will still be in the forearm. I think my new one’s in my neck. I feel a bump a little below my ear.”

I look back to the water. Past the water, where a thin line of green rests along the horizon.

“When do we do it?” Evie asks.

“Tonight, after lights out. Meet in the bathroom,” Lia says.

“That means you’ll have to be quiet,” Brynn shoves Evie’s arm. “Even when we remove it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever it takes. So long as I get to see the ocean on the other side. White, sandy beaches. Tall yellow fields. Wildflowers. Sunshine.”

“We can see the mainland from this island,” I say. “The climate won’t be different.”

Evie blinks. “You’re coming, aren’t you Farren?”

I look over at her. She brushes loose hair from her face. I meet Brynn’s gaze next, her freckles more childish than that heavy stare.

“Why should I?”

“You don’t want to find your parents?” Evie gasps.

I shake my head. “Don’t even remember them.”

“Because you were taken from them,” Evie explains. “Because you were stolen away to this island - this cult that stuck us with tracking chips-,”

“You don’t really believe that bullshit, do you Evie?” I ask. “Don’t you find it interesting that Lia’s the only one with any recollection of all that? We’ve been here since we were toddlers. She’s making it all up. You’re both being naïve.”

Crashing waves fill the silence until Brynn’s lips part.

“Maybe it’s just wishful thinking,” she nods, looking past me, across the water. “But any place has gotta be better than this shithole.”

“Who are you to talk about naivety anyway,” Lia snaps, lowering onto the rocks next to the rest of us. “You’re the one who’s always carrying that stupid book around.”

I grip it tighter in my hands.

“Native plants. Botany. You think you’re ever going to find any of those things on this hunk of rock? Let me break it down for you, Farren. This island is composed of three things: stones, grass, and life devoid of meaning. You’re the one who’s wishful thinking if you believe we’re ever going to find a purpose here.”

I follow the narrow dirt path upwards, until the surrounding ground of slate fades to grass and levels out. The boathouse to our right is ready to collapse. The Institute on the top of the hill looks less like a haven and more like an abandoned church, grey and dull. Several bare trees surround it. Several leafless vines try to scale the bricks.

A figure moves towards us along the path, their skirt tugging against the wind.

“Critchlow is coming.”

Lia straightens her pant leg, concealing the weapon while the rest of us stand.

Evie looks up at me. “Farren?”

I glance back towards the green in the distance, gritting my teeth. “Cut a chip out of your neck, and I’ll consider it,” I decide, eyeing Lia.

Evie squeals.

Brynn throws her arm around my shoulder as we begin the ascent. “It will be good. You’ll see. We’ve just gotta make it across the water.”

~~~

I wait thirty minutes past lights out before rising. My footsteps barely lift above the chorus of heavy breathing. I pass row after row, body after body, until I emerge into the hallway and progress to the bathroom.

“Took you long enough,” Lia sits on the counter between two sinks, the knife in her hand. She uses the blade to swipe a strand of black hair away from her face, steely eyes meeting mine.

Evie stands beside her, Brynn across from them, leaning against a stall.

“Are we gonna do this?” Brynn asks.

“Absolutely.” Lia hops down to face a mirror. She tilts her head, exposing her neck, and then she presses the blade to her skin, slicing a thin line just below her earlobe. Blood trickles onto her shoulder.

“Careful,” Evie insists.

Lia doesn’t even flinch. She tosses the weapon aside and starts digging with her fingers, working them beneath her flesh until they settle on something solid.

Brynn and I both move closer, watching as she holds it up. It looks metallic, and resembles a pill capsule.

“Still think I’m insane?”

I look between her and the chip, my lips parted.

“Me next!” Evie insists, running hot water over the blade before handing it to Lia.

“Can you believe that?” Brynn whispers.

I shake my head.

Brynn goes next. I go last.

Lia places the blade to my skin, an equal distance between my wrist and my elbow, on the inner forearm. She presses until the skin breaks apart, red seeping upwards and pooling in the crevice.

I dig the chip out myself, pushing on either side of the incision until I can work the lump to the surface. And out pops a silver capsule.

“They’ll find out we’ve removed them,” Lia says, tossing the chips into a toilet bowl. “They always do. We’ve probably only got a few hours.”

She flushes them away.

“Go get what you need. Meet back here.”

~~~

“What exactly is the plan?” I ask once everyone’s returned.

“Obviously we can’t swim that distance. We’ll have to break into the boathouse,” Lia says.

“We’ll have to break out of this building first,” Brynn adds.

We walk without speaking, past the bedrooms, down a flight of stairs to the second story. Our footsteps might not actually be as quiet as I believe them to be, but I can’t hear anything over the pounding in my ears.

Lia holds up a hand and I go rigid, the three of us halting behind her.

She peers around the corner.

“Mr. Gerrig,” she whispers.

He sits in a chair, meant to be monitoring the hallway.

“He's asleep,” says Evie.

“Probably because no one has been stupid enough to leave before,” I mumble.

“Stupid or brave?” Brynn asks, grinning.

“Let’s go,” Lia says before holding a finger to her lips.

We creep forward, one at a time slipping down the hallway past Mr. Gerrig. I hold my breath, my fingers trembling at my sides as I inch forward.

We approach the main stairwell that descends into the foyer.

I grab onto Lia’s arm and wrench her back when I hear movement. We duck lower, behind the stone railing, hiding ourselves.

I peer over the barrier, watching as two bodies emerge from the hallway beneath us and progress across the entryway towards the elevator. Miss Critchlow, headmistress, and Mr. Anteus, doctor. They pull alongside them a gurney.

My eyes widen as I study the face of the individual who lays unconscious. They’re unfamiliar. They look around our age, though. Sixteen.

I drop back out of view until their sounds have dissipated.

“The elevator only goes to the basement, right?” Brynn asks.

I nod.

“You see?” Lia hisses. “We’re here to be guinea pigs - some twisted social experiment. They’re testing on dead bodies.”

My eyes snap to hers. “You don’t know they’re dead. They could just be sedated.”

“Congratulations, Farren. You’re such the optimist now. Since when did you embark on this new chapter?”

“This was a bad idea.” Sweat beads at my hairline. “We should just-,”

Brynn seizes my arm and yanks me down the stairs. “We’re making it across that water.”

She fumbles at getting the door open, undoing the array of locks

“We don’t have a key,” I point out. “They’ll know we’re gone when they realize the door-,”

“It doesn’t matter if they realize we’re gone, so long as we’re gone before they realize,” she thrusts them open.

A burst of wind hits my face, cooling my damp skin. I shiver.

Brynn takes my hand again, escorting me down the front steps and across the lawn towards the boathouse.

“This is insane.”

Brynn stops in front of the shack, eyeing the padlock secured to the handle. “We’ll need a rock.”

She starts searching. I look across the water, the waves aglow in the moonlight. It’s too dark to see any land now. Only miles and miles of inky black waves.

Shadows stretch behind me, and I turn to face Evie and Lia.

“You’re sure about this?” I ask, and then Brynn slams a stone into the lock. “The rumors... don’t scare you?”

“What rumors?” Evie asks, clinging to Lia’s side for warmth.

“That we were brought here because the rest of the world is uninhabitable now. That something-,”

“Don’t be a bitch, Farren. You know she’s gullible,” says Lia.

“Yeah, and you’ve been taking advantage of that for years. Grooming her into the perfect little pet-,”

“All of you shut up and just get in,” Brynn pulls the door open, the lock broken.

A single rowboat is docked. There are no life jackets. There is one oar.

Lia takes the lead, entering into the darkness, dodging cobwebs. She helps Evie step into the boat without tipping it over.

Brynn sits beside her, the oar in hand.

Lia turns to face me. “Now or never, optimist. Do you want out of this place or not?”

I clench my teeth, my book pressed to my stomach, tucked into my waistband. Trees. Tall ones, with leaves and branches that cut open the sky. Foliage so thick you can’t even walk through it. Maybe even a family. Parents. A home.

I shove my way past Lia and step into the boat.

Evie starts clapping while Lia unties the rope and pushes us away from the dock. She jumps in just in time, lowering while Brynn rows us out into open water.

Ten feet away. Twenty. Thirty.

Light pours from the Institution as the doors burst open.

Forty feet. Fifty.

Several bodies run down the steps, heading across the lawn.

Sixty.

Miss Critchlow’s skirt tugs in the wind. Her hands find her chest.

Seventy.

I hear something - at first I think it’s some type of siren, like the fire alarms are going off, but then I realize that it’s coming from her. Long, drawn out wails.

“I can’t understand what she’s saying,” Lia says.

Miss Critchlow drops to her knees.

“She’s not saying anything,” I say, my knees pulled to my chest. “She’s just… screaming.”

~~~

“Woah,” Evie stands, provoking the boat to rock. “It’s enormous. You can’t even see where it ends.”

The sun has been up for an hour.

“I told you,” I say, pointing towards the rocky shore.

But it’s not slate. It’s fine and pebbly. For a while there’s only a stretch of tall, dead grass. And then green bushes begin popping up. And then, a ways after that, there’s the tree line.

Pines. Tall and green.

Brynn jumps out once the water is only about knee high, pulling us to the ground.

I put my arms out to balance, my stomach still lifting and falling with the tide.

“This is amazing,” Evie grins, bouncing up and down.

I can’t pull my eyes away. Land. Miles of it. No grey slate. No lifeless building. Just plants and earth. Animals, too.

Brynn grabs my shoulder, shaking the life back into me.

“We made it.”

“Come on,” Lia grins, inching away from the shoreline. “Let’s go check it out.”

“Do you think there’s people?” Brynn asks, all of us falling into a single file line, progressing down a pathway that weaves between the field of grass.

“Of course there’s people,” Lia says. “We’re going to find our families.”

“But how?” Evie asks.

Lia doesn’t answer. She just keeps moving.

~~~

“These are wild blackberries,” I point, flipping back and forth between pages in my book. “And those over there - they’re sword ferns. And that tree is a Western White Pine. And this bush here is-,”

“Don’t forget to breathe,” Brynn says.

I smile, scanning the forest. It’s greener than I ever could have imagined - so many shades, all vibrant and alive. The wind slips through the branches above us, swelling with breath.

“Come on,” Lia says. “I think I see a road up here.”

We follow her, weaving through undergrowth until we stumble onto black pavement.

To the left there’s nothing but forest. To the right, there’s a small building with an awning attached.

“A gas station,” Lia says.

“There are cars here?” Evie asks.

“Of course there are cars here. This is the mainland.”

“Hey,” I say, pointing back to the building. “There’s a person.”

We stare in silence, watching as an individual exits the building and progresses around the side, out of view.

“Let’s go,” Lia moves towards the gas station.

“Wait,” I snatch her arm. “You’re sure it’s safe?”

“What if they’re not friendly? What if they ask us where we came from?” Evie asks.

“If you two are so scared, just wait here,” Lia says.

We watch as Lia and Brynn enter the main doors.

I count the seconds. It’s been one minute. It’s been two. My heart rate rises to my ears. There’s sweat on my upper lip.

“Let’s go,” I say.

Evie follows behind me.

We’re just approaching the entrance when one of the doors flies open. Brynn staggers out, gripping her stomach, which has been slashed open, blood pouring down her front and splattering across the pavement.

Through muffled ringing I can hear Evie scream.

“Brynn-,”

“Run,” she croaks, her lips the same color as her pallid face. “We’ve gotta make it… across the water.”

Her knees crumble beneath the weight of her body and she drops, limp and lifeless.

Cries catch in my throat. With trembling hands I turn to face Evie. “We have to get back to the bo-,”

Evie’s gone.

No. I just heard her scream. How can she be gone?

“Evie!” I shout, progressing around the side of the building. “Ev-,”

“Farren.”

Evie’s on the ground. There’s a figure standing at her right, but she’s not looking at them. She’s looking at me. Her eyes hold water. She’s shaking.

“Farren,” she whispers again. “I don’t want to die.”

“Hey,” I’d be more menacing if my words did not shudder. “Get away from her.”

Their back is to me.

“What are you-,”

They remove their shirt, exposing their bare back.

My legs won’t work, but the churning in my gut never ceases.

Above the white noise of pulsing blood lifts something new - ripping. Like the tearing of fabric. And something wet, too. Drops of water.

But there’s no fabric. There’s no rain.

There’s just this man and the red line that stretches from their scalp down to their back. It expands, flesh and bone breaking apart, blood falling in streams.

They shed their skin like a jacket. Like a cocoon.

What takes their place is white. Nothing but limbs - lanky arms, bony legs, pale skin that looks more like latex than flesh. No eyes. No nose. Just a jaw and rows of serrated teeth, all stained red.

“Farren-,”

It lunges at Evie before she can get another word in, and the sound of tearing returns.

I don’t watch. With blurred vision I run for the forest, my sobs unable to mask her wails.

I stumble over branches and slip on damp foliage, dropping behind a tree trunk, panting and crying and vibrating all over.

“Farren!”

It’s Lia’s voice, rigid and wavering. “Farren,” she screams.

I stand unevenly. “Lia,” it comes out a whisper. “Lia,” I try again, moving forward.

She runs towards me, her hands clinging to mine. “Farren, thank God.”

“Lia,” I look between her eyes. “We’ve got to run. Brynn and Evie-,”

“They’re right here,” she gestures over her shoulder.

The white thing emerges from the tree line, dragging Evie over the uneven terrain. Another one steps into view, tossing Brynn into the clearing like some type of doll.

I cup my mouth in my hand, unable to breathe.

“Three gifts,” Lia says, but I know she’s not talking to me. “Let’s feast.”

More and more of the white things emerge, but my eyes are transfixed to Lia as a red line forms down the center of her face.

Ripping commences, and then I’m on the ground, my stomach exploding with pain.

I look upwards. There’s something there - other than the white hands. White branches. Circular leaves. The trunk leans slightly to the side.

I think it’s an Aspen tree.

And then there’s just red.

Just black.