I opened Deen’s bag and rummaged through the waterproof packet, looking for a specific paper—the map of the island. Islands, plural, it turned out. The other papers had notes written by Big Marcy and addressed to me. I left those inside the packet. After showing Jubjub the map, she’d suspect I was communicating with Big Marcy. But I didn’t want it to be too obvious. I also wanted to keep secret the details about the Adumbrae of Red Island. I might be able to trick Jubjub into getting herself killed by one later.
“Here,” I said, flattening the map on the grass. “I managed to steal this during one of my personal snooping missions in the bowels of the cruise ship. That’s also how I knew about the fishing boats to Red Island and then led Reo there.”
“You stole this?” Jubjub asked. Her question wasn’t laced with skepticism. It was delivered monotone as if she was just confirming my story. Her simple-mindedness worked in our favor.
“I did, yeah. I don’t know who made this, but we’re lucky I got it. Look here.” Four outlines of islands were drawn on top of each other with different colors of inks—red, yellow, blue, and green. “I was wondering why they were drawn that way. The teleportation thing to another island is the explanation. Right now, the werewolf corpse is in Yellow Island. Probably. Soon, someone will discover it. But that’s not our problem, and we can’t do anything about that. Figuring out this multi-island teleporting shenanigans is our priority.”
Why the hell did Big Marcy not include any instructions here? He had detailed drawings of buildings and what was inside them but couldn’t spare the time to write a paragraph to explain how this teleportation crap worked? Or did he expect me to go with the flow of teleportation until I reached the island I wanted to hit? Like, Green Island seemed to have facilities like a clubhouse and restaurants for their clients, or example. Would be fun to attack that place. Red and Yellow Island have laboratories, and Blue Island had a coliseum—this must be where the fights were held.
If all-out destruction was the goal, then it wouldn’t really matter where I was. That must be Big Marcy’s thinking. And I bet he didn’t have much of an idea how the island-switching thing worked anyway.
“The safe zones are not marked,” Jubjub said. “We need to know where those are.”
“The spots where the guards are located,” said Deen, pointing to a small circle marking. “Those are safe zones. They have to be.”
Dammit! I wanted to be the one to reveal it and appear smart. I realized this about the guards earlier, though Deen thought of it quicker. I chimed in, “Yeah going to be dumb to post a guard that keeps on getting teleported… unless that’s his role. Maybe some of these spots aren’t safe zones.” There, I sounded prudent and wise.
“We’re here,” Jubjub pointed at a spot on one of the rivers. “See these curves? We passed them back there.”
“Uh, I guess so,” I said, not seeing it. I was useless when it came to maps.
“There’s no red marking of a guard along the way,” Deen said. “Where’s the werewolf?”
“Here.” I triumphantly pointed at a small yellow circle. “There’s no name here, unlike the other guard markings, but I’m sure this is where the werewolf was. This guard is supposed to be at Yellow Island. But is the safe zone only there or is it the same with other islands? That may be part of the reason why these islands are drawn on top of each other.”
“If that’s the case, guards can switch between islands,” said Deen. “Good thinking, Erind.”
I know I’m good at thinking. This felt like I was in a detective movie. I wasn’t a fan of those, Mom was, but the part where the detective had figured out the clues and was revealing everything to the crowd was my favorite. There were dopamine hits when pieces of the puzzle clicked in place. Very satisfying.
“Given that the fishing boats entered Red Island,” I said, “the werewolf had to be here as a guard. If the boats would leave the river through the other islands—they’re probably doing that now—he’ll just switch. I’m thinking that he really was supposed to go to Yellow Island if he didn’t… meet us.”
I held back my musings about why the islands were called different colors.
Instead, I said something more sensible, “Our immediate goal is to find the next guard post here on Red Island.” I pointed at a green circle marking a spot in the forest, to the left of the riverbanks where we were. “Like the werewolf, this guy is probably here, in Red Island. Then he’ll go to Green Island or something.”
“We still don’t know when the next teleporting wave will pass,” said Jubjub.
“We don’t need to know the exact schedules,” Deen said. “Rest assured, Gabe will warn us so long as we’re not too far from a safe zone.”
“We could torture info about the schedule out of the next guard we catch,” I said, trying to hold back my laughter as I anticipated Deen’s reaction.
Concern and disapproval flitted across her face. Deen didn’t look at me as she replied. “There’s no need for that. I already told you that we can rely on Gabe to keep us safe.”
“But that’s the problem,” I said. “Your Guardian Angel is intent on keeping you safe. Another thing—we don’t know which island is safe. Like, is it safer on Yellow Island? Or maybe not. The fishing boats with their guards are there. Not sure why they dropped off their passengers here instead of somewhere closer to the buildings. Anyway, my point is we’re sticking to Red Island because we have to save Everett and Reo, that’s why we need the schedules to avoid getting teleported out of here.”
I almost groaned at myself after saying that. Fun times were the selling point of the Red Island theme park. Saving those two idiots wasn’t fun. A real vacation, just letting go of myself, wrecking everything, killing everyone. Okay, Deen was a teensy-weensy bit right that I was changing.
“Our goal isn’t aligned with staying safe,” I continued. “We can’t necessarily rely on you Guardian Angel for that. And we have to do this fast. Once the 2Ms’ goons have tortured information out of Reo and Everett, they’ll kill them, or worse.”
“Experiment on them,” Jubjub said, her forehead wrinkled with worry. Was she thinking of killing Everett and Reo before they divulged anything that might reveal the Professor’s operations? That was kind of on-brand for her.
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“So, we need to torture information out of the guards,” I told Deen. “Not only to extract the teleportation schedule but to also confirm that Reo and Everett are in Red Island. I know that you’re a good person, Deen.” You’re really not, I thought. She could be a psycho sometimes. “But we’re on a timer here. Leave the monstrous acts to a monster like me. I’ll be doing it to a monster too. Your conscience should—”
“You’re not a monster!” Deen grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “We’ll do it together, okay? Share the blame and moral guilt.”
“Okay, that’s decided then,” I said. It was difficult to keep a smirk off my face. “There’s a name over the next guard post we’ll pass. ‘Druidon.’ Is that an alias like ‘Romulus’? Druid or something? Maybe his power is to control the trees. Let’s go, Jubjub?”
She nodded and zoomed away as a shadow. Or she might double back to eavesdrop on Deen and me, which was why I didn’t examine the rest of Big Marcy’s papers to check who this bastard Druidon was. I shook my head at Deen—I knew she was thinking the same thing—and pointed in the direction where Jubjub went.
We left the river and went deeper into the island, following a path with no trees. What this path did have was tall grass that we had to wade through.
“They must cut through this grass each time they pass,” I mumbled.
“Then it’ll return to normal afterward,” said Deen. “The perfect cover. Thank the Mother Core that Jubjub found the piece of cloth. She also seemed to be good at reading maps. We should also be thankful that the map you stole is drawn nearly to scale. We should check the other stuff you have stolen.”
I shushed Deen. “Later.”
We continued in silence for several minutes, crouching to keep ourselves below the top of the tall blades of grass. This was how predators stalked their prey in the jungle. Forest? Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that my previous clothes were torn and I had to wear my wetsuit. These weeds were going to be awfully itchy if my body was covered. I knew that because they were tickling my face.
“I want to sneeze,” I hissed at Deen. “Is it safe? Are enemies going to hear—”
Deen pinched my arm. I shut up and held my breath. It staved off the sneeze.
Guttural grunting reached us. Then the earth shook. Something heavy and large had dropped to the ground from the treetops. The sun had already emerged but its rays still had difficulty penetrating the dense forest. I carefully shoved grass aside to get a better view of the hulk lurking in the shadows.
“Deen?” I whispered.
“We’ll fight,” was her reply.
“Really? Huh.” Sometimes I was iffy with trusting Deen. “Jubjub, are you here?” I spoke in hushed tones. No answer. She must be away, scouting for more enemies. No way she’d chicken out just because of this monster. Didn’t look that scary.
It emerged from the darkness, pushing aside a couple of mid-sized trees. It was as large as a school bus and walked on six stubby legs ending in long claws. It looked more like a fat maggot that had grown legs. Very ugly as opposed to how cute I was.
This thing wasn’t Druidon, was it? A minion maybe, like Vanessa’s familiars? Could also be a mutant experiment.
It stomped towards us, waving its head filled with flowery tentacles back and forth. Its face could be some sensory organ because it seemed to know where we were. I wanted to take this challenge on. Not wanting to be accused of recklessness, I first asked Deen. “Are we supposed to fight this big guy? No way to avoid it?”
“Gabe would’ve warned us earlier if we weren’t supposed to go here,” Deen said. “It may help us in our goal, even though I can’t see how we can interrogate it.”
“Well, then. Time to go Blanchette.” I held out my right hand and concentrated on summoning the mask that was to become my face.
Deen held my right hand and closed it. “Are you sure?” she asked. “They may see it.”
I nodded. “I shouldn’t reveal how I transform into Jubjub.”
“Oh, right. That’s a problem. But I was talking about the Adumbrae of this island. Isn’t it better to hide your Red Hood self from them? They’ll underestimate us.”
“Well… that’s a good point. But I wanted to change into Blanchette to avoid getting my wetsuit ruined. It’s not like I have fingers to throw at this big guy like I did with the werewolf.” I scanned our surroundings; my eyes landing on a bunch of boulders at the base of a hill to our right. “Those rocks are better than fingers. I’m going to start the fight.”
I sprinted to the boulders, revealing myself. The leggy worm monster already knew that we were somewhere around here anyway. It reacted to my sudden movement. Its tentacles pointed my way. Thunderous drumming as its many legs propelled its fat body after me. Looking over my shoulder, the sight of the giant worm bounding over the grass like an excited dog made me laugh.
I jumped high, did a somersault, and landed on top of the biggest boulder. Woah, I pulled that off? Awesome action hero shit! Then I shattered its surface with a punch and picked two rock pieces, one in each hand.
“This is going to be so satisfying popping you.” I hurled a rock. It bounced off of the worm. “What!” Was its hide really that thick? Or did it have a trampoline skin power? This wasn’t satisfying at all.
The leggy worm monster drew closer. I threw the next rock harder. Pushed into the worm’s body, like punching a water balloon, and broke into pieces. It was just tough. No powers. I stomped on the boulder, making more cracks. With superhuman speed, I scooped out rocks and fired them in quick succession at the same spot—the middle of the bouquet of tentacles.
Blood burst out of the worm monster’s mouth if that was a mouth. It wailed in pain. As it flung its head upward to hide its mouth from me, stretching its neck and pulling the skin taut, I aimed at its throat. Many hits at the same spot pushed its skin to the limit.
Yes! The neck skin of the worm broke.
Some rocks shot through it. Didn’t slow it down. It was getting nearer and nearer in its charge. I squatted and dug my fingers into the boulder, pulling out a sizeable chunk that probably weighed more than me. I hurled it at the worm’s wounded neck.
There was a gaping hole where the rock passed through. Still, the worm continued, its momentum propelling it forward.
“Buh-bye! Don’t want to get dirty.” I jumped off the boulder and ran for a big tree.
Behind me, the worm crashed into the boulder. Its massive body squeezed itself. Its sides tore open, purple guts showering everywhere. I managed to hide behind the tree just in time. Operation Keep Wetsuit Safe complete. Next up was Operation Beaver.
“I’m a beaver, I’m a beaver,” I sang as I rapidly clawed chunks off the tree trunk as if a giant beaver was chewing it. “Wait… I should’ve removed the other side. Whatever.” I jumped high and delivered a powerful kick to the trunk, directing it to fall on the bloodied worm in the rubble.
The tree splatted the already deflating monster. No more interrogating that, if that was the Adumbrae. But soon learned it wasn’t an Adumbrae.
“Help!” That was Jubjub. She was soaring through the air. That wasn’t her power. She hit the tree and fell.
What sent her flying came into view—a tree, like many others in the forest. But this one was walking, unlike the others in the forest. Jungle. This must be our pal, Druidon showing himself. Or was this tree his minion? And how did he notice Jubjub?
A part of the walking tree bulged outward like a zit. The bark formed into a humanoid upper body. “What do we have here?” said the tree man. “What did you ladies do to my precious Wormy?”