Suddenly, a woman's voice cried out for help. I looked around and found a woman lying on the grass by the riverbank, covered in blood. She was only wearing a tattered fur dress that barely covered her waist, and her back was marked with various wounds of different depths, mostly recent. There were knife cuts, whip marks, and even traces of branding with a hot iron. The most critical wound causing her weakness was an arrow wound on her shoulder. She had been shot by an arrow, losing a significant amount of blood.

Seeing this woman, my heart tightened. Were there other people on the island? Could she be one of the girls I knew? I hurried over, carefully lifting her head. To my relief, she seemed to be a stranger, and she was quite attractive. Judging from her accent and the butterfly tattoo with English letters visible on her neck, she was obviously, like me, an outsider and not one of the rumored natives. Given the butterfly tattoo, I decided to temporarily call her Butterfly.

At the moment, Butterfly appeared extremely weak. Her pale lips moved slightly, instinctively seeking help from me. I quickly tended to her wounds, lifted her onto my back, and headed towards the cave. Along the way, I couldn't help but feel worried. Who was this woman? Was she a passenger from the plane, like us? How did she survive in the harsh cold of the past few days? And what was the story behind the arrow wound on her shoulder?

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

I could only speculate that there must be other people on the island, and they might not be friendly towards us. After all, the arrow that hit her, even though it was in the shoulder, looked like it was aimed at the heart! This filled me with concern. We had some combat capability on our side, with just me being perhaps half of it.

Upon returning to the cave, the girls were surprised to see me bringing a newcomer. Butterfly was already unconscious, and the girls quickly came to attend to her. Seeing the injuries on her body, they were all shocked. She had clearly suffered inhuman torture. This made our faces turn grim.

"Let's take good care of her first, and when she wakes up, we can ask her what happened." That was the only decision we could make.

Due to the severity of her injuries, Butterfly remained unconscious after we rescued her, and she even had a high fever. We used some medicines left by Peggy, but the effects were not significant. Butterfly remained in a deep sleep, occasionally uttering some fearful words in her dreams. Although her sleep talk was unclear, we gradually picked up a few key words.

"Native!" "Run quickly!" "Help!"