Ryder stared at the waves lapping at the beach as if they could wash away the horrors of the past week. Nate, standing next to him, folded his arms as he waited for Ryder to continue. The grim look on Ryder's face spoke volumes, but Nate needed to hear the details.
"At first, everything seemed fine when we left the beach," Ryder began, his voice low and strained. "The forest was... normal. Or at least as normal as it could be on this cursed island. We stuck together, stayed alert. But then, something strange happened."
Nate leaned closer. "What kind of strange?"
Ryder rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "One of us went missing. Just... gone. No screams, no signs of a struggle, nothing. We thought maybe they got cold feet and decided to head back to the beach, so we kept going."
Nate frowned. "And then?"
"And then it kept happening," Ryder said, his voice cracking slightly. "One by one, more people started disappearing. In a single day, we lost eight people. Eight!"
Nate's eyes widened. "Eight? And no one saw anything?"
Ryder nodded grimly. "Not a damn thing. We even set up lookouts, rotating shifts to make sure someone was always watching. But it didn't matter. People still vanished. One second, they were with us, and the next—gone."
Nate scanned the beach again, his analytical mind searching for gaps in the story. "You're telling me that people just... disappeared? No signs of struggle, no footprints leading away, nothing?"
Ryder's jaw tightened. "Nothing. We were scared out of our minds. That's why we decided to come back to the beach. We figured we'd regroup and come up with a better plan."
Nate's gaze swept over the survivors. Their expressions were haunted, their movements sluggish. Something about their fear felt... exaggerated. He turned back to Ryder, his brow furrowed. "I don't know, man. I feel like I'm missing something here."
Ryder shook his head. "People leave. People die. But people don't just vanish into thin air, Nate. You weren't there, so you don't know how terrifying it was."
Nate held up his hands defensively. "Alright, alright. But what if—just hear me out—what if those people walked away on their own? Maybe we're worrying about the wrong thing."
Ryder's laugh was bitter and sharp. "A mother of three abandoned her kids? Yeah, sure, that makes a whole lot of sense."
Nate winced. "Fair point." He crossed his arms, his mind racing. "Okay, let's assume they were taken. Did you notice anything unusual before it started happening? Anyone acting... off?"
Ryder hesitated, his eyes narrowing as he thought back. "No, not really. Everyone was on edge, sure, but that's normal given the situation. Although..."
"What?" Nate pressed.
Ryder's brow furrowed. "Axel. He kept pestering me about something he forgot back at the beach. Said it was important, but wouldn't tell me what it was."
Nate's eyes darkened at the mention of Axel. He remembered the first night they'd arrived on the beach. Axel had emerged from the woods suddenly, startling him. Nate hadn't asked what Axel had been doing out there; something about the man had unnerved him.
"What do you think he was looking for?" Nate asked.
Ryder shrugged. "No idea. But whatever it was, he was obsessed with it. Kept bringing it up until we finally left for the forest."
Nate filed the information away for later. "And what about now? How's everyone holding up?"
Ryder's expression grew even more somber. "Not well. When we first got here, we thought rescue would come quickly. A day, maybe two. But it's been a week now, and there's no sign of help. Morale is at rock bottom. People are losing hope."
Nate looked around again, his gaze lingering on the survivors. Their despair was palpable, but Nate couldn't let it spread any further. He turned back to Ryder, his jaw set. "We've wasted a week doing nothing. We separated, we tried moving, and look what happened. A lot of lives are gone because of it."
Ryder nodded, his shoulders slumping. "So what do we do now?"
Nate's eyes hardened. He straightened his posture, exuding the quiet authority he hadn't realized he possessed. "It's time we start adapting," he said firmly. "This time we survive."