Fae Island Sample

The Island--Maria

The Island

Maria

Sand. Salt water. I could taste it. I was breathing it—choking on it. My body jerked awake. Coughs wracked through me, burning my throat and lungs.

What happened? Where was I?

My head throbbed. This wasn't my apartment.

I was lying on sand, still dressed in my work clothes: black pants, white shirt, and red apron. The sun blazed from a blue sky. Sun? It was nearly midnight when I'd left the restaurant.

A chill went through me. How much time had I lost? Why couldn't I remember? My throat turned dry. I lifted a shaky hand to clean the crusted sand from my face. Swaying palm trees and overgrown plants surrounded me.

What in the actual fuck? Was I drugged out of my mind? Running my hands over myself, I checked for any injuries. Apart from a massive headache and soreness in my neck, I felt fine. All of my senses seemed to be fully functional.

I scrambled to my feet and brushed sand off my pants. Not that it mattered, but it gave my fingers something to do and kept me from losing my shit.

Breathe. Think. Think.

For a second, my mind jumped to one possible explanation—Ricky had found me. But that was stupid. I'd be dead. Tortured then dead. Not left on some tropical paradise.

Unless...

I was dead and this was heaven? A snort escaped me, sounding harsh in the silence. There was no way I'd be let into heaven.

So, where in the hell was I?

A scream broke through the palms, shattering my thoughts. It echoed through the trees, striking every nerve in my body. It was a scream of pure terror. Flashbacks filled my mind.

The gunshots. The screaming. Luis falling—his weight crushing me face first into the scratchy carpet. I could still smell the damned rug saturated with mildew and cigarette smoke. It was forever burned into my memory along with the blood and his dead eyes.

My breath quickened, heart pounding in my ears. No. This wasn't San Rodrigo.

I was safe. The screaming continued, making me shudder. Safe. There was no such thing as 'safe'.

"Hey! Hey!" a voice bellowed behind me, ripping me from my thoughts.

I sprang forward, looking for cover. The trees were my only chance. I darted for them, trying to shove down the panic clawing up my throat.

"Get back here! What the fuck is going on?" the voice continued calling.

It sounded masculine. Masculine and totally pissed. I knew from experience, what a dangerous combo that could be. I didn't stop running. The trees and plants provided me cover, but I needed a better plan.

I needed...

My eyes snagged on a bent branch. I broke it off and gripped it tightly. A stick was a sorry ass excuse of a weapon. What if he had a gun? Shaking off the dark thoughts, I crouched lower, making sure I wasn't visible.

Footsteps pounded closer. The screaming turned into shouts. Someone—a woman—calling for something. I couldn't make out her words.

Sweat dripped down my neck and pain flared up my legs. My body wasn't used to this much physical activity and it sure as hell wasn't built for it. I moved closer, peering through the gaps of the wide, veiny leaves. Jeans and pair of scuffed up work boots were all I could make out. I didn't dare creep in for a better look.