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The Island: Chapter 7


Malcolm sends us off with a wave of his hand at the entrance of the park. Liam and I catch up to Harper and Reeve, who are waiting near the main gate.

“Took your time,” Harper says, giving us both a smile. She stuffs a paperback into her backpack and throws it over her shoulder.

Ava and James are up ahead, almost tiny dots in the distance. Gibson, poor Gibson, is slightly behind them, shaking his head at their massive egos.

Reeve claps his hands. “Since I won the coin toss and got you, can I recommend starting at the service entrance side of the park?”

“There’s a service entrance?” I ask.

Reeve smirks. “It’s around the side of the island, closer to the staff quarters in the hotel.”

I’d ask why we’d want to see that, it sounds kind of boring, but I have to admit I’m curious. This will be our only chance to see it. I can’t see it being accessible to guests when the park is open.

Maybe he’ll also show us the staff wing. Malcolm’s room with his coffin for a bed.

Harper shrugs like she doesn’t really care where we start. We don’t go home until lunchtime on Monday, so it’s not like we’ll be missing out on anything.

Today we should be able to finish going on everything. Tomorrow and Monday morning are all about riding our favorites as many more times as we can.

Liam’s frowning at Reeve as if he’s trying to figure out why anyone would want to see where deliveries are brought to the island. We weren’t shown that side of the hotel.

“Okay, fine,” Liam says, knowing he’s on his own at this point.

Reeve and Liam walk ahead and start talking about football. Apparently they’re both Giants fans.

“I wonder if we’ll go into the hotel that way,” Harper says. “That wasn’t a part of the tour.”

“Oh my god, I’d love to spy on Malcolm,” I tell her. “He only seems to appear when there’s food involved. I bet he sleeps in a coffin.”

Harper laughs. “Why would you build all this and not enjoy it? He and Camilla are…strange.”

“Uh, yeah.”

She waves a hand. “I mean, beyond the usual. Why doesn’t she tell him off? If some guy kept barking orders at me…”

I nod. “Same. There’s something about them that’s off. Have you noticed?”

“Maybe they are together?”

I shake my head. “No, I don’t think that’s it. The way she looks at him sometimes, it’s as if she’s confused how she got here.”

Harper’s eyes widen as we walk around the back of the hotel. Reeve punches a code into a keypad on a gate.

“Paisley, are you saying he kidnapped her?”

“No.” I can’t help laughing. “I can tell you’re a reader, though. I’m not sure what’s going on. Maybe she never meant to stay working for him as long as she has.”

“That’s boring.”

“We can pretend it’s the kidnap thing if that makes it more exciting.”

Harper grins. “Thanks.”

The part of the hotel that’s hidden from guests is just as polished in a creepy Gothic way as the areas accessible to guests. It’s nice to know that they make the staff areas nice too.

There are a couple of tables and chairs, a little hut that I assume is for smokers, and a vending machine.

We walk down a slope like the one at the main entrance. This one is wider and longer. The gradient is subtle. I almost died pulling my suitcase up the last slope, so this was a good idea.

There’s a larger jetty and deck chairs.

Reeve looks over his shoulder. “We call this The Beach. Malcolm doesn’t care if we hang out here and swim on our breaks and between deliveries. When the water’s calm, obviously.”

I watch waves crash gently against the side of the cliff. The sea is calm right now, but that will change tonight.

The sun is strong overhead, and the wind has died almost completely. Up top there’s no breeze at all. Today would be a great day for a swim.

“I’ll bring you back later, if you want,” Reeve tells us, but he looks at me.

My face catches fire, but I try to be casual and smile.

Maybe he would sneak out with me after all.

“Isn’t it supposed to storm?” Harper asks, glancing up at the sky.

“Due to hit us just around eight p.m.,” he replies. “Plenty of time to ride and swim.”

Harper looks at me, asking a silent question.

“Well, I’m in,” I say.

“Yeah, whatever,” Liam replies. He hasn’t been the cheeriest so far today.

Reeve turns his back to us when his phone dings.

“Did anyone bring a bathing suit?” Harper asks.

“Of course! I have three bikinis. There’s a pool!”

She purses her lips. “I have books.”

“You can wear one of mine or just lounge on one of those deck chairs and read while we swim.”

She points her finger at me. “That is why I like you.”

“All right, guys, let’s split. I’ll bring you back here after lunch.” Reeve looks up at the hotel and back.

“Does Malcolm nap after lunch, then?” I ask.

Reeve laughs. “Something like that.”

“Maybe he can’t come out in the daylight,” Harper whispers in my ear.

“You think that message was Malcolm telling Reeve to bring us back?” I ask.

“Yep.”

Liam trails behind us, looking back at the jetty and all the carved stone with a scowl. “This man has too much money.”

“He’s one of the top ten richest people in the world,” I say over my shoulder.

Liam scoffs. “Have you seen all his companies? He has loads. The man gets bored easily and moves on. I bet he never steps foot on this island again after this weekend. He’ll be rubbing shoulders with Bezos and building his own rocket.”

“You don’t like him?”

Liam is not exactly short of money himself. He rolled up in a brand-new Range Rover yesterday. His clothes are all designer, he’s got the latest phone and earbuds.

“I don’t know him. But does anyone need billions when so many are hungry?”

“No,” I reply. “They don’t.”

In my old school I saw kids skip meals and wear shoes until their toes popped out.

I was only seven, but I remember. Malcolm has the money to help end that.

“Is that what you would do if you became a billionaire?” I ask.

He catches up to me and nods. “Yeah. Too many people sit back while others suffer.”

“Who have you watched suffer?”

“Um.”

I snap my teeth together. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t born into money.”

“Same,” I say, giving him a smile of solidarity.

Reeve follows us as we zigzag the park to get the five roller coasters done before lunch. There are a lot of loops, and I don’t want to lose any of the food Kenna makes for us.

By the fifth coaster, I’m feeling ready to take a break. My stomach rolls upside down as we loop again and then gently glide to a stop.

The harnesses lift and we get off. I smooth out my long hair and Harper chucks her bag over her back.

“We should go check on Will again,” I say, looking at my phone. I stopped texting him after about ten texts and no answer. “I’m starting to worry about him.”

Liam nods. “I’ll come with you.”

Harper hesitates. “Do you mind if I don’t come? I wanted to check out the Waltzer again.” She waves to Reeve, who’s sitting on a bench.

“Sure, no problem,” I tell her.

We say goodbye and jog back to the hotel. We take the elevator up to our floor and in minutes we’re rapping on Will’s door like there’s a fire.

“Will, open up!” I shout through the wood.

Liam thumps the door with the side of his fist. “Dude has gotten serious rest. He can’t still be asleep.”

No, he can’t be.

“Something isn’t right.” I take my phone out of my pocket and call Camilla.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Paisley. Liam and I have just come back to check on Will. He didn’t answer my texts and he’s not responding to our knocking on the door. He wouldn’t be sleeping this long.”

She’s silent for a few seconds. “Hmm, all right, I’ll come up. Stay there.”

I lower my phone.

“She’s coming?” Liam asks.

“On her way,” I reply, knocking again on the door. “Will, Camilla is going to come and open the door if you don’t let us know you’re okay. Can you open the door?”

“All that crime has made you suspicious, you know,” Liam tells me.

I’m very aware of that fact. I see crime and murderers everywhere now, even when nothing’s there. When you’ve spent long enough listening to experts tell you anyone is capable of crime, you believe it.

“Pretty much,” I reply. “What do you think’s happened to Will?”

He shrugs as if he’s not thought about it.

I’ve already gone over about fifteen different scenarios. Most of them horrible.

I’m about to knock on the door again when Camilla appears, walking toward us down the dark carpet.

She holds up a master key card and the light on Will’s door turns green. She opens the door and walks in, calling his name. I hesitate for a nanosecond; a lot of my scenarios involve finding Will dead in the room.

I step over the threshold and glance around. The room feels cold and empty.

“He’s not here,” I say.


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