Empire Island, Exile the First

Chapter 13

I was smug when I returned to the compound. I'd gotten away from them without anybody noticing, and getting back in was just as easy.

I was asleep in the yurt on a dead girl's bed before the dawn began to glow along the mountains over Wildwood.

First thing in the morning, I was rudely jerked into consciousness by one of the retreat volunteers banging on the door. They dragged me out of the dark in my dream to the bright, piercing sunlight of reality.

"What is it?" I yelled, sitting up, pushing the rough wool blanket off me. It had been handmade and had that dense, thick smell of lanolin still clinging to it. It was artistic enough to indicate it had probably cost over a grand for the girl who had brought it to Empire.

A thousand dollar blanket, thousands of dollars of clothing that had been distressed just enough to give her that bohemian chic vibe they all chased, and several extremely expensive computers and recording equipment along with an acoustic guitar.

She'd been musical, it seemed. If I could get her name, I'd look up her Instagram account and find out if maybe she had run off and left it all behind.

I knew she hadn't, I mean it was pretty fucking obvious by now that Mike and Mara ran some kind of fucked up martyr factory that just happened to feed on the bodies of beautiful, young women. I knew the kind of magic that needed flesh to survive, but I wasn't ready to speak its name.

But it was no surprise, right? I mean, couldn't at least one time a murdering couple of assholes chose somebody out of that particular demographic? Like where are the serial killers who only murder middle aged, straight, white dudes?

"Breakfast. Get it now if you want any, it's a long ways before lunch and we have a lot of work to do today," the guy said on the other side of the door. "I have to wait until you're up to make sure you make it on time."

I stood up, stretched and walked to it, and swung it open, looking at him.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I asked. "What time is it?"

"Five thirty. Mara said to let you sleep in because you worked so hard yesterday," he replied. "But your guest privileges are up, you'll have to work as hard as the rest of us now."

He was pleasant to look at, I mean he was no Sorin but in another lifetime I might have hit it. He was muscular, had short dark hair and brown eyes and no piercings or tattoos as far I could see. That was rare around here, he was too clean cut to be working here under these conditions. If Mara hadn't been leaching off Empire, draining the well source, and possibly responsible for my sister's missing status, I'd applaud her work. Getting these spoiled kids out into the wilds and getting their soft hands rough with grunt work.

And the kicker, of course, getting them to pay for it.

It was genius in a way. Brilliant in its madness.

"Fuck," I muttered. "What's for breakfast?"

I hoped it'd make the early day at least tolerable. Fill me up with thick black coffee and a slab of bacon and I might not be so grumbly. The other few meals had been less than stellar, but one could always hope.

"Chia pudding with berries," he said. "It's all you need for energy and nutrition this morning. Mike is a nutritional healer and has carefully calculated exactly what our bodies need to perform under these conditions and remain in peak shape."

"Fuck," I grumbled again.

He squinted and seemed to disapprove at my swearing, but I really didn't give a damn at that moment.

"Okay, give me a moment and I'll come with you," I said, shutting the door.

I looked around at the piles of clothing I'd carefully folded the day before and decided fuck it, I wasn't about to ruin my own thread worn rags on this place. I found a pair of tie dyed batik harem pants and a loose cotton top to match. When I pulled them on I had to laugh, though. The girl had been a few inches shorter than me, so the pants were mid-calf and the shirt was a little too cropped at my belly button. I looked like a sexy pirate, but I wasn't completely unhappy with the look.