I lay down next to the fire, aware of every stone and crack in the ground. Edward lay down behind me, a respectful two feet away, but close enough that I could feel the heat from his body. I fell asleep to the sound of the roaring water and a thousand questions tumbling in my head.
I AWOKE HALFWAY THROUGH the night to find the embers barely smoldering. Edward and I had found our way together in our sleep, my head against his chest, his hands wrapped fiercely around my waist, our legs scandalously intertwined. It wasn’t safety I felt with him, no, more like a deep connection I didn’t even understand. I had a vague memory, more like a dream, of him wrapping his arms around me, breathing in the scent of my hair, muttering against my cheek. I could have stopped him. But I kept my eyes closed instead, and held him closer.
IN THE MORNING EDWARD was gone. The coals were cold in the light filtering through the screen of water. The cave looked different in daytime, without shadows clinging to the dark corners. It was only a damp outcropping, bare except for clumping moss near the puddles and more spiders than I cared to notice.
The knife, which Edward had left by the fire while we slept, was gone too.
I peered through the gap in the falls. A young man’s naked form bathed in the shallows of the pool. I jerked back with a gasp, embarrassed to see Edward undressed. I’d never seen a man naked before. The memory of his body against mine all night and the brief, unreturned kiss made me feel suddenly very warm.
I splashed water on my face from a puddle. Went to check on my dress. Washed the cuts on my arms. No matter how I tried to busy myself, I couldn’t stop throwing glances at the waterfall.
“Oh, dash it.” I tiptoed back to the gap. My heart thumped in my ears.
He had his back to me. He waded up to his chest and ducked underwater, whooping as he came up, holding his hurt rib lightly. I’d never seen him so carefree. And I’d certainly never seen him so … exposed. He didn’t have Montgomery’s impressive physique, but there was something undeniably strong in his wiry arms. Arms that had held me last night.
I fanned a little air onto my face.
He scrubbed his head and climbed out of the pool. My fingers twirled the soft ribbon of my chemise’s neckline, knowing I should stop watching. He might turn around at any minute. The thought gave me goose bumps.
He pulled his trousers and shirt down from a tree branch, taking care with his ribs, and dressed quickly. He started toward the waterfall and I hurried back to the makeshift fireplace to wait for him. I slipped my dress back on and closed my eyes, stilling my heart, imagining what Mother would say if she saw me now. I’d never held hands with a boy. I’d certainly never watched one bathing.
A centipede crept over my toe and I jumped. I realized Edward still hadn’t returned. I went back to the gap in the falls, but the pool was empty, and there was no sign of Edward.
“Edward?” I called tentatively. No response. I scrambled down the side of the falls and into the jungle. My foot landed on a rotten yellow fruit. No sign of him.
“Edward, are you there?” I called again. A glint in the fallen leaves caught my eye and I hurried over. Half buried in the leaves was his silver steak knife. Fresh blood stained the blade.
I kicked at the leaves until I found footprints in the soft silt around the pool. Bare prints mixed with the deep tread of Edward’s boots. They went every which way. Trying to follow them in the growing heat made me dizzy, dizzier still because I’d missed my injection for two days.
“Edward?” I called one more time. Only a bird shrieked in response.
TWENTY-TWO
I PICKED A DIRECTION and ran as fast as my bruised feet would take me. The shears were heavy in my pocket, but I was glad to have them. And the knife. All I could think of was that rabbit, ripped in half, when supposedly no one ate meat.
Someone had developed a taste for it, it seemed. And was now clawing apart anything with a pulse. I had to find the compound before whatever was lurking out there found me.
My foot slipped on another of the yellow fruits, and I stopped long enough to fill my pockets. I’d seen a bowl full of them in the compound, so they must be safe. It could be hours before I found anything to eat again. I planned to find a stream and follow it to the beach. If I circled the whole island and couldn’t find the wagon road, I’d climb to the volcano’s rim, or as close as I could get, and look for the compound from above.
A bird called overhead with a sharp, unnatural pitch. I caught glimpses of the ratlike creatures from the corners of my eyes. Had my father created them, too? Was the island filled not only with his lurching islanders but also with all manner of aberrations?