Timeloop #1
There's the sensation of something ghosting over his cheek and, without even opening his eyes, Mathias lifts his fingers to flick it away.
Unexpectedly, his hand tangles in something soft and warm and undeniably alive, and he opens his eyes on the hill. One tent, the flap closed, the sun beating off the bright material. The windlass, the shredded rope dangling down toward the open hole in the earth. The hill. Again.
In the circle of his palm, something moves and he clenches his fingers, knowing before it happens that the sap that oozes out onto his skin will burn. The vine dangles lifelessly from his hand now and he drops the crushed flower into the dirt, staring at it blankly.
This isn't possible.
Across the clearing, Eric sits alone, bloody and dying, even if Mathias doesn't want to acknowledge it.
Jeff is nowhere to be seen. The edge of the sleeping bag is visible through the vines and Mathias knows without looking any closer than Amy is tangled up in there. White, shining bones picked clean. Pablo is dead as well. There are only three of them left now.
"Stacy," he says, turning to her, almost surprised to find her there at his side. He wonders if she remembers the island as he does. Maybe this version of Stacy had never been there at all.
Unexpectedly, his hand tangles in something soft and warm and undeniably alive, and he opens his eyes on the hill. One tent, the flap closed, the sun beating off the bright material. The windlass, the shredded rope dangling down toward the open hole in the earth. The hill. Again.
In the circle of his palm, something moves and he clenches his fingers, knowing before it happens that the sap that oozes out onto his skin will burn. The vine dangles lifelessly from his hand now and he drops the crushed flower into the dirt, staring at it blankly.
This isn't possible.
Across the clearing, Eric sits alone, bloody and dying, even if Mathias doesn't want to acknowledge it.
Jeff is nowhere to be seen. The edge of the sleeping bag is visible through the vines and Mathias knows without looking any closer than Amy is tangled up in there. White, shining bones picked clean. Pablo is dead as well. There are only three of them left now.
"Stacy," he says, turning to her, almost surprised to find her there at his side. He wonders if she remembers the island as he does. Maybe this version of Stacy had never been there at all.