Brandon Enns - Islanders

“That wasn’t me. Erin. That wasn’t me.”

Erin held the picture in front of Stefan and then tossed it over to Trevor. It fell at his feet. “Listen,” she said. “I don’t care what you two say—”

The sound of Bruce’s rifle filled her ears with a sharp blast, followed by muddled ringing. The smoke was redolent of campfire. Her gaze fell on Stefan, who was keeled over, blood spilling out of him. He rolled over, looking up at her with pleading eyes. The blood spit up from his lips, making her cry out as she dropped her gun and rushed over to tend to him. “You’re going to be okay.” His stomach was soaked in dark blood, a purplish hue prominent around the point of entry.

Bruce shook Trevor from his trance. “The plan. Getting you home. I’ll handle all this. You just need to leave. That’s all.”

“Erin—”

“Get away from me!” she snapped, holding Stefan, shielding his body from them. He was fading fast. He reached up and touched her cheek, his hand warm from the blood. He smiled at her. She squeezed his hand tight against her cheek, leaned forward, and ran her hand through his hair and whispered, “We got help on the way. Tomorrow morning you’ll be on a beach. Mainland. Okay?” She had felt his smile against her cheek, but as she finished her sentence, he gasped for air and was dead. She rolled over onto the floor, wiped her tears, and looked up at the two of them with pure contempt.

“Erin, I didn’t want any of this,” said Trevor.

She crawled over to Bruce. “Finish the job then. Kill us.”

Trevor dropped to his knees to be with her. “What are you doing?”

“Just kill me. Come on!” Bruce didn’t move an inch, just stared down at her.

Trevor’s voice was a whisper now. “I know you don’t believe a word I’m saying. That’s okay. I deserve that. I’ve been a shitty boyfriend. But my only concern is getting you off this island safely and returning you back home with or without me. Your safety is my only priority.”

Her laugh was disturbed. “My safety… Something that should only be described as irrelevant.”

“Don’t talk like that, E.”

“I deserve this.” She looked at her red hands. “It was coming around the bend sooner or later. After enough time, I just always thought it’d be later.”

“What’re you talking about?”

She finally lifted her head and looked him in the eyes, no longer caring to gauge his intentions. “I’ve been so sick. Sick of waiting for it. I was intending to ask what your plans were, but I don’t care anymore. Just let Ashton go. He’s a good person, okay?”

Erin grabbed hold of his face callously, digging in her nails slightly. “If you’re still in there, I hope you don’t remember any of this shit.”

“Let me help you up. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Okay,” she said, emotionless. She was dragged up by her shoulders and when Trevor let go of, her she crumbled. He caught her before she crashed into the floor.

Trevor carried her across the inner part of the island, past Bruce’s cabin. She stared at the logged cabin and thought of the pictures. Teresa.

They entered the trees and the wind changed directions. The rain stopped its roaring pace and fizzled to a dainty drizzle, droplets hitting her forehead. They walked through the trees, heading toward where she remembered the boat dock was.

They arrived at the dock. Stefan’s yacht was there, but there was no Arnie. Bruce stepped aboard and searched for keys but cursed when he couldn’t find them. Stay a while. Stay a while. It played on a loop, making her feel stoned again. She didn’t fight it. She couldn’t anymore.

“No keys?”

“Nope.”

They emerged from the shadowy edges of palm trees. The Royal Family. They were all dressed in current clothing, unlike the photo she had discovered. Erin could feel Trevor backing up with short steps until he finally sat her down in the sand. He was stammering as he tried to speak. “How did you get out?”

“Because I wanted to. And I deserved to,” said Sebastian.

Each one of the Royal Family had a weapon in their hands; the hatchet in young Jhett’s hand, the dagger in Cassidy’s, Sebastian with his trident, and Teresa with the smoothly polished and rustic revolver. She fingered the short shaft of her gun gently, and a devilish grin settled permanently on her face. Trevor raised his gun, his eyes widening. Erin was still lifeless, along for the ride, craving nothing but misery. Distaste appeared to hit Teresa’s tongue as she cringed at the sight of Erin sitting on the wet ground in such a helpless fashion. “My child…” Teresa stepped toward her in attempts to comfort her.

Trevor intercepted with his gun. “Back up. I won’t ask again.” She hardly broke stride and he fired, hitting her square in the chest.

She stopped for a second and continued walking, the next three bullets doing nothing. They penetrated nothing, only shifting her shoulders with each blast, the bullets disappearing into the abyss. She knelt down, providing Erin with enough distance for her own comfort zone. “My sweet dear… I knew you were lovely from the beginning. I could see inside you. There was decency along with the darkness. I’m sorry for your pain, but you had to see. Did you see?”

A warm elixir bubbled inside of Erin. It felt like silk and peace. Comfort swarmed her, wrapped its arms around her, swaddling her until her heart slowed down. Heat rose to her face and chest. “Very few are able to find it again.” Teresa was beaming with pride and love. “You, my dear, will be just fine.” Her hand extended and touched Erin’s face. Her touch was transcendent. Unconditional love was the only thing Erin felt. “You belong with us.”

Trevor stared slack-jawed, ass in the sand. “Erin, don’t touch that crazy bitch. You hear me? Don’t listen to her. They killed Skye! They did!”

Bruce stepped off the boat and looked at the family. The reverent silence drew a smile upon his old round face.

“We’re leaving. You’re letting us leave!” Trevor demanded.

Sebastian smirked. “Go on then.”

Trevor looked back at the boat, then at Bruce. “Where is Arnie?”

“Arnie has been taken care of.”

“What are you talking about?” Trevor stood and grabbed Bruce by the collar. “You’ve been lying to me?” Trevor grabbed his throat. “You’re dead. You’re all fucking dead. I’ll see to it. And you want to kill me right here, right now? My father will come for you. He will ruin you all!”

Sebastian stepped forward. “You’re right about your father. Not your choice of words now, but what you’ve been feeling at the center of you. It’ll progress slowly, but progress nonetheless. You wouldn’t have handled it well. We’ve already played it out I’m afraid.”

“You don’t get to talk about my father.”

“Do we need to spell things out for you, Trevor?” said Sebastian.

“You’re scaring your girlfriend,” said Bruce. “You’ve been my silent partner. We’ve accomplished quite a lot.”

Trevor’s face was blank. Bruce patted him on the shoulder, pity in his eyes. “It’s blurry, like a distant memory. It feeds on you because it can and it should. You think your innocent outside of this place? You’re as quick to screw the next as some of the worst, Trevor. You should know that by now. Or at the very least just own up to your corrupt ways. So they show you how bad you really are. That’s the magnificence of it all. It’s just the way it works. Like a well-oiled machine running on sinful gasoline.”

“You’re all nuts.”

Sebastian placed his hand on Trevor’s cheek. “Think about it.” Trevor’s eyes rolled back and then he jerked away and staggered back, short of breath.