The girl hastened off before Miles could ask any follow up questions.

And oh, he had plenty.

The gods hovered? They could listen to and see what Miles and the others were doing, but they didn't read the English language? How did this girl know that? How did Mr. Reynolds?

And why, why was the wretched man implying he was going to help Miles and the other students get out?

The questions swirled and swirled inside Miles' head, making it ache. Mr. Reynolds, the firmest, fiercest asshole of a human, the worst on this island, had read Ms. Moreno's book and done a one-eighty on his beliefs. Was it a trap? Or was it real? And if he hadn't known these gods were in fact aliens, how did he still know so much about them?

Miles leaned against a tree, catching his breath. Every question left him more winded than the last, and he knew he wouldn't get answers—if any at all—until the next day.

But it was a lot to take in. Mr. Reynolds, taking their side. He'd mentioned a manual with a bunch of rules in it—one that he hadn't even bothered to fully read, because of the blind faith he'd given the supposed gods. But now he was willing to throw it into the fire?

And what about that ritual he spoke of; was that real? And would he really use it to invoke the gods, the aliens? Maybe it'd be a means to divert them, keep them occupied while Miles and the others found a way out. Or maybe, as Miles' conscience kept telling him, Mr. Reynolds wasn't that good and was only drawing Miles in to better slice into him later. It was a trap, a means for Mr. Reynolds to get on the alien's good side, and earn himself a pretty little prize. Once faithful, always faithful, regardless of what he was faithful to?

If that turned out to be the case, if Mr. Reynolds had lied to Miles to betray him—the only pretty little prize he'd get was a whopping punch in the nose and hopefully a dagger to the heart; if Miles could manage throwing one through the barrier at him.

And now that I know it doesn't stop inanimate objects from going through...

He tucked that information away for later use. He'd have to find a knife small enough to stash in his waist-band, but big enough to break through Mr. Reynolds' tough skin.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Miles pushed off the tree he'd used for support, took three steps forward—and paused.

It appeared he'd been followed, eavesdropped on. He'd been discovered.

"Miles?" Vick stood feet away from him, dressed in a gray sweat-pant set, tugging a hand through his tousled dark curls.

Miles froze, uncertain how to respond. Acknowledge his former friend? Wave, like an idiot? Or attack him? He was, after all, Jessa's play-thing. She'd dug her claws in deep with this one, meaning the ruler had dug her claws in deep. Vick belonged to the alien-gods, to the ruler, and him coming after Miles only meant one thing—that he was obeying their command and that he'd come to battle with Miles to the death.

Or had he? Vick didn't look like the animalistic, sex-craving weirdo he'd been back at camp for the past few days. If anything, he looked bewildered, peeping behind Miles, his gaze zoning in on the barrier, then on the book in Miles' grasp. He hadn't bothered to hide it anymore, now that he knew the aliens couldn't read it; but Vick could. And Vick was staring at it with way too much interest.

"Hey, man," said Miles, cradling the notebook to his chest as he took a small, tentative step forward. He lifted an arm, his palm facing Vick, approaching him as one would a scared, cornered animal.

Vick didn't make any abrupt gestures, nor did he give off the vibe that he was in a violent mood. He was calm, standing his ground and watching Miles with narrowed eyes, but didn't stop him from coming closer, didn't bare his teeth.

Miles gulped as he neared his friend. Was this how Kera had felt the other day, when she'd turned around and found that Miles had been following her, eavesdropping on her? Had she felt betrayed, stunned, unsure how to proceed? Had she seen Miles as a threat?

Miles' situation was, understandably, a bit different. When he'd gone after Kera, he was on her side, he was her ally. They'd confessed attraction to one another, they'd shared a bond—albeit without remembering it or wanting it—and they were friends. But Vick? He was on Jessa's side, the ruler's side. He was subdued by her, at her mercy, and no matter how tranquil he was at that moment, it'd be seconds before he snapped and exploded. Vick wasn't Miles, and he wasn't benevolent or friendly, never had been.

He'd come to report on Miles, to get him in trouble. Jessa had whispered instructions in his ear, and he'd had no hesitation in concealing himself under the cover of trees, cloaked in shadows as he tiptoed after Miles to watch him.

He'd watched, he'd likely heard—and he was still staring at the book.

His fists tightened at his sides, and Miles stopped moving. "What the fuck is going on, man?" Vick's voice was trembling, but Miles didn't think it was with rage. "What is all this about?"

"What do you mean?" Miles pulled the notebook closer to his torso. "What did you... hear?"

"All of it." Vick glowered towards the barrier, stiffening. "The whole exchange. And I'm... I'm just..."

Miles chewed on his lip. Who was Vick pissed at? Miles? Mr. Reynolds? The girl, maybe?

"I'm fucking in shock, dude," said Vick, dragging a hand down his face. "Aliens? For real? Is this serious? I mean, you know your science shit, so is this... is it true?"

Miles released the breaths he'd been holding in, waiting for his friend to come at him. "Fuck." He deflated, loosening his grip on the notebook. "Yeah, it's true. The gods aren't gods. It's all a scam, every piece of it." He flinched, recalling too late that Vick hadn't yet announced whether he was there to persecute Miles, or side with him. Or who knew what other option Vick might have come up with.

"Shit." Vick spat a thick glob of saliva onto the forest floor, then wiped his mouth, looking ready to spit again. "Aliens? So Jessa.... She's... she keeps getting possessed, but it's not possession, is it? No, she's being probed by some weird ass little green guys? And I've been fucking her? Gross." He gagged. "This is so fucking gross."

Miles snorted, almost erupting into laughter at the sight of his friend coming to such an enormous realization.

Of course, he'd only be thinking about where he stuck his dick.

Though reassured, Miles wondered how Vick had come to his senses. Had overhearing the conversation with the girl and Mr. Reynolds snapped him out of whatever trance the ruler had had him under, disguised within Jessa? Or had he found another means to break the spell she held over him?

"I doubt they're little green guys, man," said Miles, resuming his approach. When he was a few inches from Vick, and Vick still hadn't budged, Miles reached out and grabbed his shoulder. "You okay, man? Back to your usual self? Are you feeling fucked up in any way I should know of?"

Vick cringed. "The only thing that's fucked is that I had to hear you talking about aliens, and realize that I've been sleeping with one for several days now. Like, out in public, too. Everyone saw me fucking an alien!"

Again, Miles held in the urge to guffaw at his friend. If they survived this, he'd have time enough later to give him shit for his stint with Jessa-the-alien-ruler.

I don't want to scare him off if he's back to himself. One more person on my team would be essential.

"Jessa's not an alien, man," said Miles, squeezing Vick's shoulder before letting go. "You fucked a human who apparently is okay with being fucked by an alien, herself."

"So what was all this about, then?" Vick brushed himself off, grimacing as he held a bit of his sweatpants' fabric between his fingers, pulling at it. "You're meeting up with that asshole in secret to... what?"

Miles hefted up the notebook. "To show him this. It was Ms. Moreno's."

Vick squinted at the cover. "And you needed Mr. Reynolds to see it? Why give him anything? He's a piece of shit."

"He might end up being a reformed piece of shit, I'm not sure yet." Miles tapped the book's cover. "Ms. Moreno did research on all this stuff. She's the one who figured out the gods were aliens, and she was putting together a huge case that she planned to denounce to the world. But then, she was... murdered. Likely because she knew too much."

Vick gestured for Miles to hand him the book. "Can I read it?"

Though Miles hesitated for a second—was Vick on his side, now? Or was it a ruse to get the book to Jessa, who, despite being possessed by the ruler, was a human who could read the language? He wouldn't put it past Vick to play games, to pretend like he was fine to trick Miles into giving him what he wanted. It wouldn't be the first time.

Vick insisted. "Dude, come on. I fucked an alien, you really think I'm down for mind games? I'm not making this up. She's not... I'm not with her, not anymore. Not knowing what I know now." The barely healed scrapes on his arms weren't pulsating with purple, and he didn't have that weird energy about him that he'd harbored the past few days.

Okay. Okay, maybe he is his usual self, then.

At that point, Miles had only two options; give him the book and the benefit of the doubt, or not give him the book and wait for Vick to tackle him. Miles was physically stronger, but Vick liked to scratch and bite, and Miles wasn't in the mood for that.

"Fine," Miles shoved the book into Vick's grasp, "but hurry, because I have a bad feeling we need to get out of this area, fast."

Vick waved him off and opened the book, spinning away from him. He browsed through the pages, flipping them so fast Miles worried he'd rip them out. Mouthing words, like Mr. Reynolds had; turning just as red, if not redder, when reaching the worst passages of Ms. Moreno's exposé.

"This is—" he scoffed, "—and she was sure of this?"

Miles shrugged. "I don't know how, but I have a hunch that she was."

"And where did she—" Vick suddenly hunched, peering about the area.

Miles did the same, having heard what he had; a growl, low and throaty and close-by.

"Fuck," said Miles, motioning for the book. "Hand it over, we gotta go."

Vick thrust the book into Miles' hands, and he slid it back under his hoodie and t-shirt. They crouched, both turning on their heels, listening closely to find out where the growl had come from.

A pair of gloomy, glowing yellow eyes appeared in one of the nearby bushes. Too nearby for Miles, and he gripped Vick's wrist and broke out in a run.

If caught off guard, Vick didn't show it, maintaining the pace as Miles ran, ran, ran. He had no clue where he was headed, yet he sensed his feet were carrying him back to the camp. His body seemed to know the way, to want to get him to safety, though his mind remained back near the barrier, waiting for the monsters to attack them.

What felt like hours later, and within sight of the stone steps up the cliff, Miles quit running. He doubled over, catching his breath, and saw Vick do the same.

"What... were... those things?" Vick fell to his knees and threw his hands into the stream lining the path they'd been traveling on.

Miles winced; of course, Vick hadn't had such a close encounter with the monsters, so he wouldn't have any idea what they were. Jessa had only mentioned them, and he wasn't sure if Vick had listened when Kera had described them. And Vick was a believer, a follower of all this from the beginning; he'd never experienced doubt, and thus never saw the monsters for himself.

"The monsters, man," said Miles, glimpsing the stairs and frowning. "The things that hunt us when we start doubting and expressing the need to escape."

"Fuck," Vick gagged, "they're real?"

"Everything is real here. How have you not come to that conclusion yet, man?" Miles yanked Vick to his feet and took him by the shoulders to shake him. "Those things want to skin us and eat us, or transform us into them. We might have put some distance between us and them for now, but they'll be coming. They know," Miles tensed, "they know."

"They know what?" Vick winced, trying to worm out of Miles' grip.

"That Kera wanted to escape, that I want to escape. And now, that you're disgusted by the aliens and more so because you sort of slept with one. They'll interpret that as doubt, which means they're hunting you, now."

Vick glanced towards the cliff's top. "We can't go up there, huh? I mean, I never heard any growls or saw any creepy-ass yellow eyes near our cabins, but if they're hunting us..."

"We can't bring that shit up there, you're right." Miles cupped a hand over his forehead and stared out past the trees, down the passage they'd once taken to get to the beach. He recognized it because it was better lit-up, the tree-tops less clustered, not concealing as much of the sky. And like a beacon shining the way, a ray of sunlight poured in just as he saw the exit far ahead—the opening to the beach. "We'll go to the beach. I don't think the monsters go near that toxic water."

Vick agreed, and immediately they set off in a new direction, following the dirt path leading to the beach. They walked fast, not speaking, not admiring the blooming flowers and colorful birds fluttering about. Neither had anything to say—they were fucked, and if they ever returned to the cabins they'd fuck everyone else over, too. Jessa was already doomed; but Patrek, Taryn, and Lorenzo? They were human, and they didn't deserve to be shredded into by monsters at the command of cruel aliens.

When they broke out of the woods, landing in the warm sand, Vick peered out into the bay, while Miles fixed his sights on something else, off to the right.

The cave. Didn't I think Kera might have been hiding in there, at one point?

It was a concentration for the ruler's power, but the ruler was busy occupying Jessa. Would the gods be watching them inside what they considered their emissary's lair? Would they attack Miles and Vick, or send their hairy creatures to do so?

Miles needed to find Kera, regardless. The cave was, in his opinion, the best place to start.

"You wanna go there?" Vick arrived beside Miles and followed his line of sight. "The cave? Isn't that where the ruler's power is, or whatever?"

"Yeah, but the ruler is busy with Jessa, right now. And I have this weird hunch that Kera... Kera might be in the cavern. Hiding."

"Or... dead?" Vick patted Miles' back. "Look, I trust you, and I should have trusted you previously, too. I shouldn't have gone off flirting with Jessa and trying to see her naked. It was worth it, but still... bros before—"

"—don't you dare finish that sentence," intervened Miles, though he appreciated the semi-apology from Vick. "I don't know if she's alive or dead, but something tells me the cave is going to give us some answers. On that, or something else. And if she's alive, and inside... then I need to get to her before it's too late."

They scaled the beach, choosing to enter through the small strait of sand off to the side of the grotto. Neither wanted to take any risks in the poisoned water. Before Miles ducked his head to fully enter the cavern, he took note of the sky—it had shifted to a sunset-like red, drifting off into orange and yellow on the edges. But it wasn't time for sunset.

Wasn't that how the sky had looked when we all got in the water?

Trying not to draw ominous conclusions, he entered the cave, hopping over water spots before moving up the bank of sand that led into the cavernous room where the ruler had possessed Jessa for the first time.

Nothing had changed; the place still reeked of decaying bodies and death mingled with a strong, unnatural floral scent, and a whiff of danger. He tipped sideways and saw the corpses, wondering if any new ones had been added.

Vick slowly started towards the sparkling pool in the middle of the room. Miles hurried to grab him, to stop him from approaching, but when his gaze connected with the brilliant, transparent surface of the water, he found himself entranced, stuck. His legs moved towards it of their own volition, and though he screamed at himself on the inside, pleading with his body to not get anywhere near the water, he had no control over his movements.

Not until he detected something crawl out of the shadows and latch onto his ankle, yanking him backwards.

The motion somehow broke Miles free of his delusion, and he snatched Vick's wrist to snap him out of his trance.

"Stop," said a small, barely audible voice from the thing that had taken hold of Miles' ankle. But it wasn't speaking to him—it was addressing Vick, who hadn't stopped his progress towards the pool.

"Hey." Miles tugged on Vick harder, then snapped his fingers at him. The thing's grip on his ankle was firm, but he didn't have time to worry about that yet.

"Don't do it, don't drink from that shit," said the thing below, its voice rising in volume; enough to prompt Miles to glance down at it with curiosity. It sounded familiar, possibly feminine, also quite possibly human—

A shriveled frame of a young woman was curled at his feet, its weakened hands wrapped around his ankle. And the eyes that looked up at him were the clear, grassy green ones belonging to Kera.

Kera?