To The Death

“So let me get this straight,” Robyn says, grinning at Lennox over her cup of coffee. “You think someone with rotten skin attacked you in the bushes yesterday?”

Lennox impatiently stabs a piece of mango with her fork.

“I’m not kidding, Robyn.”

“Oh, of course you’re not. Because Rotten Skin People just roam the Canary Islands all the time.” She chuckles and dumps yet another sugar packet into her cup. “Lenny, you crack me up.”

“I’m serious!”

“Okay.”

Rolling her eyes, Lennox shoves the mango slice into her mouth and chews like she’s exacting punishment for some personal offense. Slowly-mounting terror plays at her tear ducts; she quickly blinks the wetness away before it becomes noticeable.

The reason she’s picked Robyn as her confidante is because her sister—despite their many disagreements—knows her better than anyone, and is well-aware of her reluctance to believe in anything that can’t be explained by science. She’d hoped that this would impress upon Robyn the severity of the situation, but, as always, her sister won’t take anything seriously.

“Look,” ventures Lennox, deciding to give it another try. “I’ve been through every possible logical and scientific explanation, and I haven’t thought of anything that explains what I saw. And that’s what freaks me out. What if—”

Robyn cuts her off with a dismissing wave of the hand. “I think you just need more sleep. We’ve only been here a couple of days—you’re probably just a bit jet-lagged. Your eyes can play tricks on you when you’re not well-rested, you know.”

“I’ve been sleeping fine—”

“And besides, what else could it be? A random colony of lepers who decided you looked friendly and wanted to say hi? Tourists who recently escaped from a cannibal’s underground lair? Or better yet—zombies?” Robyn dissolves into hysterical laughter. “Seriously, Lenny. Stop watching so much Syfy, stop playing so many video games, and get some more sleep. You’re being ridiculous.”

Angry retorts are on the tip of Lennox’s tongue, but before she can voice any of them, Robyn downs the last of her coffee and gets to her feet.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find Syn.”

She moves toward the food table, still chuckling. Lennox watches her go, shaking now, frustration and anxiety battling for dominance within. She picks at her food. Her appetite has suddenly vanished.

Kingsley joins her several minutes later and sets down a plate laden with bacon and scrambled eggs.

“Why the long face, sis? You look like someone lowered the dosage on your antidepressants.”

She glares at him. “Not funny.”

“Sorry.” He bites into a bacon slice and looks at her thoughtfully as he chews. “Boy trouble?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Kingsley rolls his eyes, but swallows his food.

“And no, it’s not boy trouble. Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just…” She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what’s probably going to be another insistence that she’s sleep-deprived. “Something attacked me yesterday.”

His eyebrows shoot up in disbelief, but he doesn’t say anything, so Lennox goes on. She tells him how she weaseled her way out of yesterday’s activities—leaving out the part about spending time with Zacky—and headed back to the cabin in the afternoon, only to be grabbed and shoved to the ground by someone with decaying skin. She also relays Robyn’s opinion on the matter. Then she looks at him anxiously.

“Please don’t just tell me I’m crazy, Kingsley. I know what I saw.”

Kingsley looks at her for a long moment. He presses his lips together momentarily, then smiles.

“Is this some kind of April Fool’s joke?”

“It’s June!”

“Lenny, come on. I’m sure you just imagined it. Are you sure it wasn’t a dream?”

Disappointment falls on Lennox like yesterday’s downpour. She searches her brother’s face for any hint of doubt, anything that might suggest even the slightest belief in her story. There’s nothing except for a placating expression just like Robyn’s, just like the one parents give their kids when they say there’s a monster in the closet. For a moment she’s seized by a sudden, wild anger; considers screaming at the top of her lungs and throwing a tantrum until someone believes her. But she knows it would be futile. Whatever it is, she knows she’s in at alone for now.

Alone. Just like always.

She shrugs. “You’re right,” she says hollowly. “Maybe it was just a dream.”

“See? All better.” Kingsley laughs, relieved. “I think when we get home I’ll buy you a nice happy video game. Maybe that one for DS where you take care of puppies and kittens.”

“I hate you.”

As Kingsley continues to laugh, Lennox hears the now-familiar noise of a microphone crackling into use near the front of the pavilion. She groans inwardly. A.C steps onto the stage and begins his usual morning spiel.

“Good morning, retreaters! I hope you’ve all slept well and that you’re enjoying this morning’s special breakfast treat—doughnuts! Now, I know you’re all anxious to hear what activities we’re offering today, so I won’t waste time…”

Shut up, you stupid cunt, Lennox thinks.

Just like yesterday, she has no desire whatsoever to take part in any of the stupid activities. She knows she could easily sneak away again, but she doesn’t want people to notice that she’s never there, so she decides that she needs to actually participate today. She’ll take a break again in a few days. Sighing, she joins the crowd of people who have finished breakfast and are signing up for various activities. After hearing all the descriptions, she decides on a kayak excursion through some of the caves on the south of the island. It doesn’t sound too difficult, and she has been wanting to see the famous beautiful ocean water that was so prominently advertised on the NRF brochure.

A smiling blonde in a red NRF shirt rallies the kayak participates and introduces herself as Lila. She explains that the caves are a fairly long walk away, about three hours, so they’ll be taking a car and cutting the trip down to thirty minutes. Lennox and the others pile into one of the white pick-up trucks that served as their original transportation and endure a bumpy ride down the mountain. They emerge from a suffocating jungle road onto the shore of the ocean.

The sand is a perfect, blinding white, broken only by the appearance of numerous bright red kayaks and life jackets near the shoreline. Water that’s a precise blue-green color laps at the sand, then pulls away.

Lennox feels a sense of calm envelop her. This is what she flew fourteen hours for. The unblemished blue sky, the postcard-perfect beach. She’s considering burying herself in sand and just staying here for the whole day, but then Lila directs everyone towards the kayaks.

“Now, the caves are just over there,” Lila says, pointing. To the left of the beach, there’s a small outcropping of dark rock jutting into the ocean. “And over to the right, that’s the Cumbre Vieja volcano. But don’t worry—it’s been inactive for years.”

She relays some basic safety instructions, and then everyone slips into their kayak. Lila gives some people a helpful push into the water before boarding her own kayak and moving to the front of the group.

“Feel free to explore. This is more of a self-guided tour. The caves aren’t super-extensive, but there are quite a lot of neat rock formations that might tempt you off the main path, so be careful. I’ll be blowing this whistle—” She demonstrates, producing a shrill noise. “—Every couple of minutes, so if you happen to get lost, just follow the sound. All right? I think that’s everything. I’ll see you all on the other side.”

Lila smiles and starts moving toward the caves.

Lennox ends up near the back of the group, but she doesn’t mind. At least now she doesn’t have to worry about moving too slowly and annoying the person behind her. She takes her time exploring the entrance of the cave and the surrounding areas. For a moment, she lays down her paddle and dips her hands into the water. It’s cool and refreshing against her bare skin. She closes her eyes and breathes in the fresh air. If she tries hard enough, she can almost pretend there’s a well-muscled European guy standing nearby, happily poised to hand her a mojito.

Her kayak experiences a sudden jolt, and her eyes fly open. To her dismay, Zacky is nearby, trying to maneuver past her.

“Sorry,” he says gruffly. “Didn’t want to interrupt your meditation or whatever the hell that was.”

Lennox scoffs and moves out of the way. With some trouble, Zacky manages to proceed into the next area. She follows him, mostly because there’s nowhere else to go.

“Why are you all the way back here?” he wonders.

“Why are you?”

“I suck at kayaking. I figured I’d lag behind so no one would witness my kayak fail.”

Watching him, Lennox sees that this is true. He can’t quite seem to get the rhythm of the paddle. It’s mildly amusing. She wants to tease him about it, but something about the set of his jaw informs her that he’s not in a very playful mood.

“Well, I’m not going to tell anyone. I’m just behind because I wanted extra time to explore without being rushed by anyone.”

Zacky pauses in his attempt to navigate around a rock formation.

“Can I chill with you, then? These caves creep me the fuck out.”

She hesitates.

“We don’t have to talk,” he volunteers. “I’m not really in a talking mood. I just don’t want to be alone.”

She considers the numb tone of his voice, the miserable expression on his face.

“Okay,” she says, against her better judgment.

“Cool.”

They progress into the next area—Lennox in the lead, Zacky following close behind and punctuating the silence with expletives every few seconds. Eventually, Lennox glances over her shoulder.

“Do you need help?”

“Shut up! I’m fine!”

“You don’t sound fine.”

“I told you, I fail at kayaking.”

“Yeah, but it seems like you’re angry about something else,” Lennox says, before she can stop herself.

She’s surprised by her own curiosity. Usually, she avoids people who are visibly upset because she knows she can’t give good advice. But now she feels an irresistible pull to be nosy.

“It’s not really any of your business,” Zacky snaps.

“Okay.”

A second later, he sighs exasperatedly.

“I tried to hit on Kristen, and she rejected me.”

“Who’s Kristen?”

“You know. Brown hair. Always has her damn iPod. Looks like she’s anorexic, but somehow you can tell that she’s not.”

Lennox runs through her mental catalog of all the retreaters.

“Isn’t that the sixteen year old?”

“And your point is?”

“She’s sixteen!”

“So?”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he says miserably.

“And didn’t you already sleep with her mom—whatshername—Camille?”

“What is this, The Real World? How the hell does everyone know who I’ve been with?”

“Because you brag about it when you’re drunk like it’s some sort of great achievement,” Lennox says sharply. “And word spreads fast around here.”

“Fantastic.”

Zacky slaps angrily at the water with his paddle. Silence descends. They move into a cave full of colorful, glowing fish. Lennox feels the briefest prickling of interest—they’re probably poisonous—but finds that she’s too keyed up to really examine the water’s contents. Her hands are trembling around the handle of the paddle and she has that weird, can’t-breathe-about-to-cry feeling she gets when she’s angry. She knows she’s angry at Zacky because he’s being a filthy slut. But that doesn’t seem to be all. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, she also knows she’s angry because he hasn’t tried to hit on her again, and for some reason, she enjoys it.

“Are fish supposed to glow like that?” Zacky asks.

“Not usually. I think they’re poisonous.”

“Cool.”

He follows her into the next cave. Its most interesting feature is an enormous spike jutting up through the water in the center of the room.

“Oh, that’s comforting,” Lennox says sarcastically.

Zacky laughs. “It looks like a giant dick.”

“Ew, it does not.”

He glances at her, one eyebrow raised. “How many dicks have you seen in your life?”

“How many have you seen?” she says quickly, trying not to show her panic. Please don’t ask me again.

He laughs some more, smacking at the spike with his paddle.

“Good one. But don’t think I didn’t notice you changing the subject.”

Lennox moves her kayak around the spike and hurries through to the next area.

“It’s not really any of your business.”

“Wait—you have seen a dick, right?”

“What is it with you and personal questions?”

“Or are you a virgin?”

“Again, none of your business.”

“All right,” he says. Lennox doesn’t have to look at him to know he’s grinning. “So if I asked you to ditch the kayak and sneak off into the woods somewhere for a little fun, what would you say?”

“I’d tell you that it’s just you and your hand tonight. Sorry.”

“Did you just quote a P!nk song at me?”

“That’s not important.”

Zacky chuckles loud enough to make it echo through the cave. He seems adequately amused, so when Lennox spots an alternate path up ahead, she quickly goes that route. She paddles furiously for several minutes. After a while, she hears Zacky’s laughter fade away.

“Hey. Where’d you go?”

She chuckles to herself.

“Lennox!”

Pleased with herself, Lennox explores the new pathway. She’s relieved by her quick escape—his questions were getting way too uncomfortable. She doesn’t know how he’d react to finding out that she’s a virgin, and she doesn’t want to find out. She figures that Zacky, like her siblings, would probably tease her relentlessly, and he’s already annoying enough with her giving him extra ammunition.

There is a part of her, however, that wonders what would have happened had she taken him up on his offer. For a split second, she tortures herself with an imagined version of herself and Zacky, rolling on the jungle floor with the trees standing sentry. She imagines his hands on her skin, his mouth on hers, and she feels flushed for reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with the island temperature. Then she snaps out of it.

Lennox makes the abrupt decision to take a dip in the water to cool off. She squeezes herself out of the kayak and braces her hand on the slimy cave wall for balance as she strips down to her bathing suit. She’s been borrowing one of Robyn’s practically-nonexistent designer bikinis, and she feels absolutely ridiculous, but she reminds herself that there’s no one around, so it doesn’t really matter. She places her clothes on top of the kayak, and slips into the water.

That does the trick. All thoughts of Zacky and things she shouldn’t be thinking about drift away. She opens her eyes underwater, sees colorful fish and various marine plants. Refreshed, she surfaces for air. Then she floats on her back. A soft breeze coming in off of the open water tickles her wet skin. She empties her mind. Nothing exists but the water’s cool caress, the plastic feel of the kayak against her foot, the softness of skin brushing just beneath her right hand—

Her eyes fly open. She abruptly returns to an upright position.

There are several greenish bodies floating being buffeted around the cave like driftwood.

Most of their limbs are incomplete, ending in half-vanished skin or the whiteness of bone. Some have faces; others are mere skeletons. The water’s motion makes it seem as if they’re swimming, but it’s obvious they’re dead. Clearly.

Hopefully.

Lennox opens her mouth to scream, and it dies in her throat as the body closest to her turns its head. Out of a face that is all bone, its eyes bulge. It grins. Sticks out its tongue and licks where its lips should be.

Now she screams, grasping wildly for the kayak. She pays no attention to her clothes falling into the water. She takes off at a furious pace, screaming and hiccuping and crying; begging for someone to help, anyone. It’s not until large hands grip her shoulders that she realizes she’s caught up with the rest of the group.

Lila. Looking worried. The others exchanging looks. Wilson. Ex-bodyguard. Shaking her shoulders. Asking what’s wrong.

She babbles something about dead bodies, bone-bodies, grinning at her. About someone having killed them. About everyone being in terrible danger. Then she wrenches herself from Wilson’s grip and starts back toward the scene of the horror, hoping that the others follow. And they do.

When she reaches the cave where she saw the bodies, she immediately spies her half-soaked clothes floating nearby. She plucks them out of the water robotically.

A comforting hand on her shoulder. Lila.

“What did you say you saw, Lennox?” she asks.

“Bodies. Right here.”

There’s a long, uncomfortable silence as everyone looks around, then at each other.

Wilson clears his throat. “Are you absolutely certain?”

Lennox nods.

“Yes! I saw them! Right here! Why would I be making this up?”

Lila moves her kayak around Lennox’s so the two are face to face.

“There’s nothing here. Look.”

Lennox looks around the cave, horrified. Lila’s right. There’s nothing except for pretty water and shining rock. Not even a hint of the existence of those things has been left behind. She feels her breath coming faster and faster in her chest, feels her face heating up.

“Maybe you, um, imagined it?” Wilson suggests.

“Why would there be bodies out here?” Lila says calmly. “We’re perfectly safe, okay?”

She feels tears spill over, wants to drown herself to escape the humiliation.

“I know what I saw.”

Lila nods like she’s a mental ward attendant trying to subdue a patient.

“Let’s just get you back to camp.”

Wilson is entrusted with driving her back. He keeps an embarrassingly close eye on her. Once she’s buckled into the front of the truck, she pulls her knees to her chest and cries, hot with shame.

Maybe I really am going crazy.