The island doesn't want us

The canoe hit the sand. Hard.

Joe fell out. He hit the wet beach with his shoulder. Pain shot up his arm.

He did not care. He turned fast. He grabbed Jude. He pulled Jude’s body off the canoe and onto the sand.

Jude was cold. His skin was white. He was not moving.

Paul’s boat hit the shore next. The men jumped out. They pulled the four people from the wreck onto the beach.

Then everyone just stood there.

No one spoke.

The people Joe had just saved were in shock.

The young woman in the bikini sat on the sand. She stared at the sea. Her mouth was open. But no sound came out. She could not believe her eyes.

The man who held the lady put her down gently. He looked at his hands. They were shaking. He looked at the water. He looked at the sky. His face was empty.

The lady he saved was quiet. Her eyes were closed. She was breathing, but just a little.

And the injured man. He was bad.

He lay on his back. His leg was bent the wrong way. Bone was out. His arm was broken. Blood was all over him. The sand under him turned red. Then black.

He bled so badly.

Every time he breathed, more blood came out of his mouth.

“Help him,” the woman in the bikini said. Her voice was small. “Please. Someone help him.”

But no one moved.

Joe stood up. His legs shook. He looked at the man. He looked at the sea.

The water was still now. Dark. Quiet. Like nothing had happened.

The creatures were gone. They had turned back. They did not come onto the shore.

Why?

Joe looked past the beach. Past the sand.

The lighthouse was there. Tall. Black. Old.

Behind it were the houses. The abandoned village. Broken windows. No lights. No people.

The wind made a sound through the houses. Like a voice.

Joe’s hands made fists.

The island had saved them from the sea.

But Joe knew.

The island did not want them here.

Joe looked at the people on the beach. Their eyes were wide. Their bodies shook.

“It’s dangerous out here,” Joe said. His voice was low. “Especially during the night.”

He pointed at the dark sky. The sun was almost gone. “We can’t stay on the sand. We need to move. Now.”

The woman in the bikini nodded. The man who held the lady said nothing. He just stared.

“Follow me,” Joe said. “Follow Paul. Follow the men. We know a safe place.”

Paul walked up next to Joe. “He’s right,” Paul said. “Come on. All of you. Move.”

First, the men went to the boats.

Paul and two other men grabbed Joe’s canoe. Joe and one man grabbed Paul’s boat.

They pushed. They pulled. The sand was wet and heavy.

“Push!” Paul shouted. “Harder!”

The boats did not want to move. But the men did not stop. They pushed the boat and the canoe up the beach. Far from the water.

“Here,” Joe said. “The tide can’t reach here. The sea can’t take them.”

They left the boats behind some big rocks. Safe.

Then they went to the hurt people.

Two men lifted Jude. He was still out cold. His head hung down.

Two other men lifted the injured man. He made a small sound. Like pain. Blood dripped from him onto the sand. He bled so badly.

“Let’s go,” Joe said.

They walked.

Past the tall lighthouse. The stone was cold. The door was shut.

Into the village. The houses were old. The wood was black. Windows had no glass. Doors hung open.

The wind blew. It made the doors bang. _Bang. Bang. Bang._

No one lived here. Not for a long time.

Joe led them through the small streets. Left. Then right. Then left again.

At the edge of the village, there was a hill.

In the hill was a door. Big. Made of metal. Rust was all over it.

A bunker.

It looked abandoned. Dead.

Joe put his hand on the door.

“Inside,” he said. “We’ll be safe in here.”

Joe pushed on the big metal door.

It was heavy. Rust fell off it.

_CREEEK._

The door opened.

Inside was not empty.

A group of people stood there. Maybe ten of them. Men. Women. Old. Young.

Their faces were pale. Their eyes were scared. They looked like they had been worrying for days.

Before anyone could speak, Paul stepped in front.

“Annie,” Paul said. “We have some casualties here.”

A woman stepped out of the group. She was tall. Her hair was tied back. Her hands had stains on them. Old blood.

That was Annie.

She looked at the men carrying the injured man. His head was back. His face was white. Blood was still running from his leg.

“Medical center,” Annie said. Her voice was fast. Strong. “Take him there. Now.”

Two men ran with him down a dark hall.

Annie walked to Jude. She put two fingers on his neck. She lifted one of his eyes open. She listened to his chest.

“He’s fine,” Annie said to Paul. “Just unconscious. He hit the water hard. Take him inside. Put him on a bed.”

Paul nodded. He and another man carried Jude in.

Then Annie looked at Joe.

She stared at him. Long. Hard. Like she knew him. Like she was mad at him.

She did not speak. She just turned and walked into the bunker.

The woman in the bikini and the man who was with her followed Annie.

Joe stayed by the door. So did Paul and the other men.

“Lock it,” Joe said.

They pushed the heavy door shut. _BOOM._ The sound was loud in the quiet bunker.

Joe turned a big wheel on the door. Click. Click. Click. Locked.

Then he saw a red button on the wall.

He pressed it.

A sound came from above. _RRRRRR._

A large metal shutter came down from the ceiling. It moved slow. Heavy.

It hit the ground. _BANG._

The bunker was sealed.

Nothing could get in.

Or get out.

The woman in the bikini and the man with her walked behind Annie.

They went down a hall. Lights were on the ceiling. White. Bright.

Both of them stopped walking for a second.

They were surprised.

From the outside, the bunker looked small. Old. Dead.

But inside, the bunker was bigger. Much bigger.

And it was clean.

The walls were white. The floor was not dirt. It was smooth stone.

It was well organized.

Signs hung on the walls. Arrows pointed left and right. _Medical. Food. Water. Sleep._

Doors were open.

In one room, two men fixed wires. Sparks flew. They did not look up.

In another room, a woman sorted cans of food. Hundreds of them. She counted and wrote in a book.

In another room, three people sat at a table. Maps were on the table. They talked in low voices. They pointed at the maps.

Everyone in the bunker was busy. Doing one thing or another.

No one was sitting. No one was crying.

The woman in the bikini looked at the man next to her. Her eyes were wide.

“This place,” she said. “It’s not abandoned.”

The man nodded. “No,” he said. “People live here. A lot of people.”

They kept walking behind Annie.

They passed more rooms.

One room had beds. Many beds. Some were full. People slept. Some were hurt. White bandages covered their arms and heads.

One room had guns. Long guns. Short guns. Knives. All lined up on the wall. Clean. Ready.

One room had water tanks. Big. Metal. The sound of water moving was loud.

The man looked at Annie’s back. “Who are you people?” he asked. His voice shook.

Annie did not stop walking. She did not turn around.

“You’re safe now,” Annie said. “That’s all you need to know.”

The woman in the bikini and the man looked at each other again.

They were not sure Annie was right.

This place did not feel safe.

It felt like a place ready for war.

They reached the medical center.

The door was white. A red cross was painted on it.

Annie stopped. She turned to the woman in the bikini and the man with her.

“Wait outside,” Annie said. Her voice was not mean. But it was not kind. “You can’t come in.”

The woman opened her mouth to speak. Annie held up a hand.

“Now,” Annie said.

The woman and the man stepped back. They sat on a bench in the hall.

Annie went inside. The door shut behind her. _Click._

Inside, the room was bright. Too bright.

The injured man was on a metal table.

Blood was everywhere. On the table. On the floor. On the white coats of two other people.

Annie and the two others battled to save the bleeding man.

They moved fast. They did not talk much.

“Clamp!” Annie said. One man gave it to her.

“More light!” Annie said. The other woman moved a lamp.

They worked on him. Patching him up and down. Sewing his skin. Tying off the blood. Cleaning the bone.

The man made no sound. He was too far gone for that.

In another room, Jude was taken to a bed. The unconscious woman from the beach was put in the bed next to him.

A nurse put needles in their arms. Drips. Clear medicine went into their bodies.

“Let them rest,” the nurse said.

Back in the main room, Annie stood up straight. She pulled off her bloody gloves. _Snap._

“He’ll live,” she said to the other two. “For now.”

She walked out of the medical center.

The worried wife and the friend jumped up from the bench.

“Is he…” the woman in the bikini started. Her lips shook.

Annie looked at her. “He’s alive,” Annie said. “We patched him. He lost a lot of blood. But he’s strong.”

The man let out a breath. He almost fell.

“He should be left to rest,” Annie said. “Don’t go in. Don’t wake him. Let his body fight.”

She did not wait for them to answer.

She turned her head toward the hall.

“Joe,” Annie called out. Loud. “Paul.”

Her voice echoed off the white walls.

“Come here. Now. We need to talk.”

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