"You know her?" I asked, looking between Chloe and Mia.
Chloe wasn't listening to me. She was staring at Mia, her eyes wide, her mouth open. Then she made a sound—something between a gasp and a sob—and ran forward.
"Mia!" she cried, throwing her arms around the smaller girl. "Oh my god, Mia!"
Mia froze for a second, her huge dark eyes blinking. Then recognition hit.
"Chloe?" she whispered. "Chloe, is that—"
"It's me," Chloe sobbed, squeezing her tight. "It's me, oh my god, I thought you were dead—"
Mia broke. She buried her face in Chloe's shoulder, her small body shaking with sobs.
I watched them, my arms crossed.
"She's my cousin," Chloe said, pulling back just enough to look at me. Tears were streaming down her face, but she was smiling. "Her mum—my aunt—died in a car accident two years ago. Mia's been living with us since then. She was on the yacht with us when the storm hit, but we got separated. We thought she drowned."
Martha stepped forward, her expression softening. She pulled Mia out of Chloe's arms and into her own.
"Sweetheart," Martha murmured, stroking Mia's tangled black hair. "We looked everywhere for you."
Mia sobbed against Martha's chest. "I'm sorry—I tried to find you—I was so scared—"
"You're safe now," Martha whispered. "You're with us."
I watched the three of them. Chloe wiping her eyes. Martha holding Mia. A family reunion.
Meanwhile, two hours ago, I'd eaten Mia's pussy and came on her face at the lake.
And she was standing there in her aunt's arms, her cheeks still flushed.
This was going to be interesting.
---
"We need to move," I said. "We have a new base. Three miles north. It's better than anything we've had."
Martha looked up. "How do you know it's safe?"
"Because I killed everyone who was living there," I said.
Silence.
"Let's go," I said. "Stay close. Stay quiet."
We started walking.
---
The journey took about two hours with the full group. Rachel stumbled frequently. Lydia was nervous and jumpy. Mia's small legs struggled with the pace.
Chloe walked beside Mia, their arms linked, talking quietly.
"How did you survive?" Chloe asked. "After the storm?"
"I washed up on the other side of the island," Mia said softly. "With Sophie. We found shelter and hid for weeks."
"Sophie?"
"My friend. We met on the yacht. She was a passenger. We stayed together after the storm, but then those men found us yesterday." Mia's voice dropped. "They grabbed me. Sophie ran."
"We'll find her," Chloe said firmly.
I glanced back at them. Mia caught my eye. Her cheeks flushed pink and she quickly looked away.
Chloe didn't notice.
But I did.
---
We reached the cave just as the sun was dipping toward the horizon.
Before we entered, I stopped the group.
"Wait here," I said.
I went ahead to check the entrance. The two bodies were still there—Marks and the bearded leader, lying where they'd fallen. Blood had dried dark on the stone.
I dragged them off to the side, behind a cluster of rocks. Not hidden well enough to fool a tracker, but enough that the women wouldn't have to step over corpses on their way in.
I walked back to the group. "Come on."
Martha was the first to notice the bloodstains on the stone near the entrance. Her jaw tightened, but she didn't say anything.
Inside, the main chamber opened up before them—massive, thirty feet across, the ceiling high above, smooth stone walls carved by water over centuries.
Lanterns still hung from hooks driven into the rock, casting warm flickering light across the space. Cots lined one wall. Weapon crates were stacked in the far corner. The makeshift table near the center still held the maps, radios, and stacks of supplies I'd seen when I first entered.
"Oh my god," Lydia whispered, her eyes going straight to the food—cans and dried provisions stacked neatly near the cots.
Martha ran her hand along the stone wall. "How long were those men here?"
"Months at least," I said. "Maybe longer."
Chloe was already scanning the room, her eyes sharp. "What's down there?" she asked, pointing toward the two tunnels that split off from the main chamber.
"The left tunnel goes down to a lower chamber," I said. "That's where I found David, Isaac, and Mia. There are cages down there."
"Cages?" Martha's voice was tight.
"Iron cages," I said. "Bolted to the wall. That's where the hunters kept their prisoners."
Rachel made a small sound, her hand going to her mouth.
"The right tunnel, I haven't fully explored yet," I continued. "We'll check it tomorrow. For now, this main chamber is our base."
Martha nodded slowly, her eyes still moving across the space, calculating. "This is... this is actually defensible. One entrance, stone walls, natural cover."
"That's the idea," I said.
Rachel's eyes had already found David. He was sitting near a cot against the far wall, where Isaac lay unconscious.
"David!" she cried, rushing toward him.
David stood up just in time for Rachel to throw her arms around him. He winced—his ribs were still bruised—but he held her.
"Mom," he said quietly. "I'm okay."
"You're alive," she sobbed. "That's all that matters."
David held her, but his eyes drifted over her shoulder. To Mia, who was standing near the entrance with Chloe.
I saw it. Chloe saw it too. Her eyes narrowed for just a second before she looked away.
---
Isaac was bad.
Martha knelt beside his cot, checking his pulse, lifting his eyelids, pressing the back of her hand against his forehead.
"Severely dehydrated," she said. "High fever. These bruises—" She lifted his shirt carefully, revealing dark purple marks across his ribs and stomach. "Possible internal bleeding. I can't tell without proper equipment."
"Can you help him?" I asked.
"I can try." She looked at me. "I need medicinal plants. There are herbs on this island that can fight infection and bring down fever."
"We found some near the entrance earlier," I said. "David and I used them before I left to get you."
Martha examined the paste David had applied to Isaac's wounds. She nodded grudgingly. "This is decent. Antibacterial. But he needs more. And he needs fluids."
She crushed fresh leaves into a bitter-smelling tea and forced it down Isaac's throat in small sips. He stirred, groaning, but didn't open his eyes.
"That's all I can do for now," Martha said, standing up. "If the fever doesn't break by morning..." She didn't finish.
---
David found me in the main chamber while I was laying out the weapons on the table.
The arsenal looked impressive spread out together—the two hunting rifles and shotgun I'd taken from the dead hunters outside, the pistols, the Glock, boxes of ammunition, the one remaining grenade, plus whatever had been stored in the cave's weapon crates. I hadn't opened all of them yet.
"Jack," David said from behind me.
I didn't turn around. "What do you want?"
"I just wanted to apologize. For everything."
I kept sorting ammunition. Rifle rounds in one pile. Shotgun shells in another. 9mm in a third.
"I know you don't like me anymore," he said quietly.
"I never liked you, David."
Silence.
I finally looked at him. He stood there, bruised and broken, his swollen eye half-closed, his shoulders slumped.
"Is there anything else?" I asked.
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Shook his head and walked away.
I watched him disappear into the main chamber, then turned back to the table.
The maps caught my attention again. I'd noticed them when I first entered the cave, but I hadn't had time to study them properly. Now I unfolded one and spread it flat.
It was a detailed map of the island—far more detailed than anything survivors could have drawn from memory. This was professional cartography. There were markings in red ink: coordinates, routes, supply drop points.
The radio on the table was military-grade too. Specific frequencies were logged in a small notebook beside it, along with dates and times. The last entry was three days ago.
Someone had been communicating with the hunters regularly. Checking in. Sending supplies.
And now that communication had stopped—because the hunters were dead.
Which meant whoever was on the other end of that radio would eventually come looking for answers.
We needed to be ready.
---
I walked back into the main chamber. Everyone had settled in. Lydia was organizing food supplies, counting cans and sorting them. Chloe had arranged two cots side by side near the wall—one for her, one for Mia. David sat near Isaac's cot with Rachel.
Martha saw me and smiled—a real smile, warm and soft. She stood up and walked toward me.
She glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the cave entrance.
Outside, the jungle was darkening. The air was thick with moisture and the sounds of insects.
Martha turned to face me. Her expression was different—open, vulnerable. I'd never seen her like this.
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me, pressing her face against my chest.
"Thank you," she whispered. "You saved us. All of us. You killed those men. You found David and Isaac. You brought us somewhere safe." Her voice cracked slightly. "Thank you, Jack."
I stood there for a moment, feeling her body pressed against mine. Her breasts were soft against my chest. Her hair smelled like sweat and jungle flowers.
I put my hands on her waist and pulled her closer.
"You know how to thank me properly," I said, my voice low.
She pulled back slightly, her cheeks flushing red. But she didn't step away. Her body stayed pressed against mine. I could feel her heart beating fast.
"Go and meet Chloe," she said quietly. "She's been worried sick about you."
I studied her face. The flush in her cheeks. The way her eyes kept dropping to my mouth. The way her fingers were still gripping my shirt.
She wanted me. She'd wanted me for weeks. And right now, with her guard down, with gratitude and relief flooding through her, she was closer to breaking than she'd ever been.
But she wasn't ready yet. Not quite.
"Mia has a friend out there," I said. "Sophie. She escaped when the hunters grabbed Mia. I promised I'd find her."
Martha's expression changed instantly. The softness vanished.
"No," she said firmly. "Don't."
"I made a promise—"
"You've done enough." Her hands gripped my arms, her fingers digging in. "You've killed six men. You've saved Isaac and David. You found Mia. You brought us here." She looked up at me, her eyes hard with fear. "Don't go out there again. Please. Just stay."
I looked at her. At the fear in her eyes. Not fear of me—fear of losing me.
That was new. That was very new.
Before I could respond, footsteps echoed from the cave behind us.
Rachel appeared in the entrance.
Martha looked between us. Something flickered across her face—awareness, understanding, maybe a flash of jealousy. Then she smoothed it away.
"I'll leave you two alone," she said quietly.
She let go of my arms and walked back inside without another word.