If he was playing me, I was going to play him right back. “How, then?” he’d asked, leaning toward me, the light from the window catching off the blue of his irises. His whole face seemed to glow.
“I don’t know how exactly, but sometimes at night, there are words shining directly onto my wall.” I pointed to the wall opposite the window for emphasis. “It says, ‘In the ocean is the key.’ What do you suppose that means?” The lie slipped out as effortlessly as it manifested in my head. I walked closer, studying his reaction.
Dom was mumbling to himself. “I don’t know.” Then he refocused on me, searching my face. “I can help you,” he said, “but I need something from you. Just one thing.” He pulled the needle out of his pocket—the one they use to administer shots—but it had been refashioned in some way, so the syringe was instead a glass tube. “I need a sample.”
And then the rage clawed its way up from the depths. He knew I was June. They all knew I was June. Who the hell did he think he was, coming in here, thinking he could mess with me, thinking he could use me? Who the hell did he think I was? Some easily manipulated kid who’d let him take everything and leave me here to rot? I walked closer to where he stood leaning against my desk, but he must’ve been confused, because when I got within reach, he put an arm around my waist. He leaned down, and he paused—just for a second—and then he kissed me. And I let him. I kissed him back, as I reached behind his back to my desk, to my clock …
When I glance back at Cameron, his eyes are on my knuckles, which are turning white from gripping my towel, and the steam filling the room makes him feel closer. Makes us feel closer.
I wonder now if Cameron is pretending. If Casey is pretending.
Cameron gestures to my clothes on the floor and looks away. After I dress, I tell him, like a warning, “The last time I saw him, he was being dragged from my room, unconscious.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not all of the truth, either. I leave out the kiss, and the fact that I was screaming at him, full of rage and nonsense, as his body shook on the floor. I leave out the lies I told and the part where the entire island went on lockdown. My words, unchecked. My actions, unchecked. They were so careful about blades and points and weapons on the island, but when you need something to use, none of that matters. Everything could be a weapon.
And I had been able to make something from the batteries and simple circuits I found in the room, from the careful wiring.
I can still feel it, the power of it, in my hand. I can still see the surprise on his face, the way everything about him changed as I held the base of the clock to his back and the current ran through him.
“I had turned my clock into a stun gun,” I say.
Cameron starts laughing, and instantly it is my new favorite sound. It’s surprisingly fast, and real, and his eyes narrow like he can’t control the rest of his face. I smile back at him without even thinking. “You have no idea how much I would’ve loved to see that,” he says. Then he holds up the needle he must’ve just threaded. “Ready?”
“Yes,” I say. This time, at least, I don’t have to lie on the floor. He sits me on the counter, and I lean back against the mirror to give him more access. I hold up my shirt, and his hand shakes as he nears my skin.
“Sorry,” he says. “I’m cold.”
But he doesn’t try to warm them up. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, and then he pushes the needle through my skin, over and over, as if I were a piece of fabric. I should’ve taken the pill. I know it. He knows it. But he doesn’t say anything as I choke on my cries, or as I tense with each new stitch, and he doesn’t mention the fact that there are tears rolling down my cheeks. He pretends not to notice that I’m gripping on to his shoulders in a way that must hurt, but he doesn’t flinch.
When he finishes, before he looks up at my face, he moves the side of his hand across my cheeks in a quick motion, and he smiles to himself. “Not too bad,” he says, “for my first time.”
“You were practicing on my rib cage?” I ask, feeling a pull each time I breathe in.
“I was,” he says, trying not to smile. He dabs some sort of ointment over the top. “There. Done.”
And then we’re stuck there, with nothing more to do. It’s just him and me, inches apart, my bare skin on display in front of him. He must notice at the same time, because his hand reaches for the bottom of my shirt, still held over my ribs, and he pulls it down and backs away.
I make him nervous.
I’m not entirely sure why.
He’s still watching me, but I guess that’s his job. “Look—” But Cameron’s gaze quickly shifts to the wall—to somewhere beyond the wall—where I hear a faint beep. He opens the bathroom door and holds his breath. I hear Dominic whispering in the house. I hear Dominic whispering to someone in the house, and so does Cameron, who runs out of the bathroom into the dark.
I hop off the counter and stand in the doorway. Cameron already has Casey in his arms, and his shoulders are shaking as if he’s laughing, and Casey is pushing him away saying, “Yeah, yeah, oh ye of little faith.” Then he picks her up and spins her once, and I want to run to her, too. I’m overwhelmed with that same feeling. Of relief. Of happiness. Of wanting to go to her.
But I stay in the doorway to the bathroom, watching them instead.
Then Casey starts laughing, and even Dominic Ellis is smiling. Casey spots me over Cameron’s shoulder, her eyes twinkling, her face smiling as her chin rests on Cameron’s shoulder. She is contagious. I am laughing with her. With them. “We made it,” Casey says.
“Of course we made it,” Cameron says.
“Shh,” Dominic says, but he is smiling, too. And his steps are the loudest of us all. His gaze shifts to me, but his smile never falters—crooked and personal. In the dark, with only the light from the bathroom, he nods at me once, coming closer. I force my spine straighter, taller. I force my smile to remain, to reach my eyes.
I force myself to act as if I don’t understand that he is smiling at me like a man who has already won.
Chapter 7
After the rest of them take turns in the shower, we shut off all the lights again and head down to the basement. There’s only a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, and there’s a small television in the corner, which Dominic turns on but keeps the volume so low he has to lean forward to hear it. There are mattresses along the floor and a stash of food, and I don’t wait for anyone to offer it to me. I rip open a granola bar and devour it in two bites, downing an entire bottle of water afterward. I focus on the door at the top of the stairs. It’s closed, but I didn’t notice anyone lock it. Still, I don’t know where to go. What to do. I can’t think of a single person who would take me in. Who would keep me hidden.
“Let me see your rib,” Casey says. “We need to disinfect and stitch it up.”
I shake my head, swallowing the last of the water. “Cameron did it.”
She raises her eyebrows, and one side of her mouth lifts along with it. “Did he now?”
“I have many talents,” he says from across the room.
She puts one hand on her hip and says, “I bet outrunning three guards and outswimming a motorized boat aren’t on your list of talents.”