Sacrifice Island by Kristin Dearborn Read Free Book Online

brushed against his calf and he yelped, then started to cry.
    What the fuck happened? Happy and drunk one moment, fucking marooned the next. Could he cut through the jungle and get back to town? He paused and listened, but heard nothing except night noises: waves lapping at the shore, leaves rustling in a soft breeze. Feng dragged himself out of the water, and fished his expensive cell phone out of his pocket. Ruined, most likely. Maybe it had one more call…maybe he could phone for help? Something? Anything?
    No dice. The big screen stayed dark.
    Feng dropped the ruined smartphone in the sand. Maybe he’d been punk’d. Maybe this was a reality show.
    He called out: “Hello! You got me! You can come out now!” Only the soft jungle sounds responded. He tried again in English, then sat next to his phone and listened to the trees and the water.
    Not quite sober, he started to doze off.
    “Hello? Is someone here?”
    Feng scrambled to his feet. A woman. Holy shit.
    “Hello! Over here!” She spoke in English, so he did, too.
    He could see her clearly because she wore white. A flowing dress hugged her curves in the breeze. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and Chinese, too! He asked, in Mandarin, if she spoke the language, and she told him she did.
    “Do you have a phone?”
    She moved close enough that he could see her delicate features. Exquisite lips begged to be kissed. An adorable little nose. But her eyes…what was wrong with her eyes? Funny contact lenses? And why did she smell like rotten meat? She changed, then, from Chinese to Caucasian, her hair changing color, and her body type changing. Her nose and lips changed. Feng broke to run, but didn’t get far.
    * * *
    Those were Feng’s last thoughts as the woman unfurled leathery white wings. Her jaw dropped like a snake’s, revealing a too-wide mouth of cruel teeth. She took the top of Feng’s head off with her first bite, cruel teeth crushing through bone. Red blood spattered her white dress. She sank to her knees with him and began to feed.

9
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Jemma holed up in Alex’s cabin for the afternoon, which left him awkwardly displaced while Terry and Anna worked to get the dead bearcat off Jemma’s door. He’d hung around at first, offering to help, but Terry snapped at him. He’d had tears in his eyes. Alex couldn’t tell if it were compassion for the animal, embarrassment, or both. He swung past the bearcat cage and found the male—Alex couldn’t remember his name but remembered it had something to do with Popcorn—pacing and agitated.
    “Don’t blame you, little buddy,” Alex said. Popcorn blinked up at him with red-brown eyes. “I wish you could tell me who did this to your girlfriend.”
    Close to six, Alex headed back to his cabin. They still needed to eat, they’d missed lunch. He knocked on his door. Jemma stalked out past him, went to her cabin and closed the freshly scrubbed door.
    The next day, Terry couldn’t find anyone willing to take them to the island, no matter how much money they offered.
    When dinnertime rolled around, he went to Jemma’s door, hoping he didn’t have to drag her—metaphorically of course—to eat.
    She opened the door in reasonably good spirits. Weird.
    “Shall we go to dinner?” she asked.
    “That’s the plan. Are you okay?”
    “I’m all right. Sad about the bearcat. Angry we’ve lost a day of research. But you know what this means, right?”
    “Someone around here thinks killing animals is awesome?”
    “No, we’re on the right track.”
    Alex stayed silent, waited for her to continue.
    “We were abandoned on the island, and now we’ve got this warning on our door. On my door.”
    They trudged up a path to the main road and flagged down a trike. Alex sat facing back, letting Jemma have the larger seat next to the driver. Alex handed him twenty pesos, and they were off, hurtling down the rutted dirt road, past bamboo buildings toward El Nido. Western standards of