Brandon Enns - Islanders

Trevor continued to follow through the trees, babying every step so that he didn’t make too much noise, as if he was about to catch someone in the act of murder or some other heinous crime. The further he walked into the trees, the more he felt like something was watching him closely. His skin crawled.

Near the west beach at the end of the tree line, he saw the silhouette of the same man shoveling. Every time he pumped the blade into the dirt, he’d pick up more speed on his way down. He stopped abruptly. Before the man turned, Trevor lowered himself to the sandy soil. It was damp, his chin touching down, causing some granules to stick to him. The man looked over and paused for a three second count before returning to the task at hand. It didn’t take him long to get back to his Tasmanian devil pace.

Confusion settled in. The trees seemed to have crowded in tight and the moonlight had abandoned him. His legs were heavy. Trevor was no longer convinced he was awake. Was he asleep in the duplex or the villa? He couldn’t push out the image of Valencia standing by his infiltrated business. Am I sleepwalking?

Forging that signature was the worst thing he’d ever done. He knew Valencia wouldn’t have argued the merits of the signature as it was a perfect forgery. Valencia had signed so many documents during their business relationship that he would have claimed that he was tricked, not that it was a forged signature. It didn’t matter what his defense was, Valencia had been essentially ‘Zuckerberged,” having “signed” on a document that diluted his shares down to nearly nothing to make room for a larger investor—Fairway Capital. Trevor had stripped the man of his business that he had built from nothing, so that their own firm could score a much, much larger client.

Although Trevor’s mind drifted to that regretful place, he remained lying there in the sand, eyes fixated on the beach. He was trapped in his own mind, literally blind, only seeing his thoughts. But it wasn’t a dream. It was reflection. And now, the man was gone.

Trevor emerged through the trees and returned to his group. Stefan sat in the sand with a tiresome grin, a bottle of champagne dangling loosely in his hand. How? What…

Trevor fumbled for a sentence. “Sorry, I went for a stroll. How long was I gone?”

“Like fifteen minutes maybe,” said Erin. “Were you sick again?”

“No.” How in the hell did Stefan get past me? “ When did you join us, Stefan?”

“As soon as you took off wandering in the woods. I thought you were giving me the cold shoulder when we crossed paths.”

“Please don’t do that, this place is freaky enough when we’re in groups,” Erin said. She seemed quite relaxed, drunk perhaps. Trevor didn’t like the way she smiled at Stefan. It was the same look she gave him before.

The fire was wearing down, crackling less. Trevor tossed a log on, noticing Ashton had left. “Where’s Ashton?”

“He left just before you did. Ashton hasn’t pooped in three days. He might be done for the night,” Skye said with a cackling laugh after. She took another pull from a bottle of red wine and looked at Stefan, then at Erin. “The three of us were going to start our threesome in the water until you showed up, Trevor. Make it four?”

Trevor was abnormally furious in response to her slightly off-putting joke. It burned inside of him, and giving in to the feeling would have been purified satisfaction. He wanted his hands around her throat. He wanted to squeeze. Was it Skye that was bringing out the adventurous side of Erin? Would she cheat on him with Stefan? “I think I’ll pass tonight. You’re too wild for me, Skye, you know that,” Trevor said through half-bared teeth.

“Oh, you never know for sure until you try, babe.” Before he had time to react, Skye was on her feet removing her top. “Anyone care to join me?” she asked.

Stefan was slack-jawed. Erin’s face flushed. “Skye!” she half-heartedly scolded, which Skye loved, releasing another one of her drunken giggles.

“I’ll go with her. Make sure she doesn’t drown,” Erin said.

“Now, now. Don’t be shy because of us. Trevor and I will hang by the fire. You gals express yourself freely in there. Let the night guide your decisions.”

His flirtatious tone was overcooked.

“All right, girl. Let’s see what you’re packing under there,” said Skye, pulling at Erin’s top as she blocked her.

“No, I think I’m good,” she said, amused and drunk.

“Suit yourself.” She tried to take off in a run and toppled over into the sand. Erin helped her up, but Skye still proceeded to drag her to the water when Stefan called out, “Don’t let her die! We got a reputation here! Of… not letting guests die!”

Trevor could feel Stefan’s eyes all over him, looking him up and down. “You fall in your own piss?”

“What?”

“You’re covered in sand. You got half the beach on you.”

He dusted himself off. “How many staff members you got out here?”

He leaned back on his hands. “You’re out of questions, cousin, thought you knew that.” He took a pull from the wine bottle with a smug smirk.

“Right. They’re part of your little game.”

Stefan forced out a demonic laugh, and then wiped wine from his mouth. “Game again? Really?”

“Case… Right.”

Stefan’s eyes were cold, his mouth sullenly slanted. “Experience would be better probably.” His voice was calm and nonchalant. He sighed and took another sip. “We usually have four helpers. There was lots of prep that went into everything. Mostly with getting my place and the duplex ready. Helping the developers with building, cleaning up, creating trails, cleaning the trails up from palm trees shedding, lots of stuff, man. I wasn’t here for a while, and they had to look after the place.” He grew quiet, as did Trevor. “Why? Which one did you meet again?”

“Cassidy.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s a beauty isn’t she?” He raised his eyebrows, insinuating the obvious.

“I saw someone digging,” Trevor blurted out.

“Digging?” Stefan’s brow furrowed and his attention switched over to the girls in the water, Skye cackling and splashing. “Listen, maybe my hand isn’t in everything. You’ve got to find a way to let the process run its course. I’m still looking to you to continue leading. Try to… just accept the ride. Enjoy it. It’s just starting to get interesting, trust me. Captain Trevor Miller. It should come easy to you if you’d just let your guard down even a fraction.”

“I got your note.” Trevor reached for the bottle and he handed it off.

Stefan just smiled and rose to his feet. “Goodnight.”

The path was old, unlike the ones they had walked the day before. Ashton made his way through the thick trees, worrying he was working his way farther and farther into thick bush that he wasn’t supposed to be in. What had started as an odd shining light had led him to a dark tropical nightmare.

It looked like a narrow-headed flashlight with intense brightness at first, but then became distorted, splitting apart and reconnecting in strange combinations. Had he smoked too much weed? Was that even a thing for him?

The light had disappeared, settling behind the tall palm trees, but it didn’t matter which angle he took, he couldn’t locate it again.

Ashton changed directions, thinking he was heading back to where he had come from, but reached an opening that looked new to him. He hadn’t passed it on his way. In the clearing sat an old building, worn down. Around the edges, grass stood tall, almost swallowing the building whole. It was a lighter shade of brown, stained with darker brown colors from aging. It appeared to be a community hall of some sort.