Shortys 2026

Angelique signed the delivery guy’s paperwork and took the thick envelope back into the house with her. Tearing into the easy release tab across the top, she reached inside as she arrived at the kitchen table.

“What have you got?” Justin asked.

“It feels like a contract, but I don’t think so. Look at this.”

She handed her husband of less than a year a heavy parchment envelope.

“That looks like a wedding invitation. But no one we know would send it UPS delivery. There’s only El and Will left to tie the knot.”

Justin worked the flap loose and drew out a stiff silver embossed card.

Angelique leaned over his shoulder to read it with him.

Angelique DeCoeur-Arlington is cordially invited to attend a test of her abilities to survive.

She will board the cruise ship Akatapóntistos at the port of Miami for an all expenses paid cruise filled with challenges, mystery and self-discovery. The prize is self-satisfaction, growth, and bragging rights until next year’s event. The cruise will visit Caribbean ports of call.

The ship will leave on September 10th at 10 am.

You are not allowed to bring any of your family or friends along. Bring only yourself, your passport and your internal resolve to succeed.

Present this invitation to Captain Pius and his trusted travel guide Reinhart once you board.

“Interesting. I guess I won’t be able to finish caulking the logs like I expected. Do you want to do it while I’m gone?”

“The dream cabin is your project. We’ll wait until you get back. Funny there’s no return date,” Justin shook his head. “Do you really want to put time into this weird invitation?”

“I do. It might be the last time I can do something spur of the moment like this. We’ve got projects lined up right through the winter and well into next year. I won’t be able to catch my breath, let alone schedule any alone time for at least eighteen months once November hits.”

Justin tucked the invitation back into its envelope.

“Don’t lose this then. Your passport is valid for another eight years, so not a problem either.”

He handed it to her.

“I trust you’ll rise to the challenge. I wish I could go with you, but we’d team up right away, and that’s clearly not what this is for.”

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

Angelique sighed, wishing she could take him along.

“It’s not much notice. I’ll book the flight right away. Should be something direct from St. Louis to Miami.”

Justin shook the shipping packet and another envelope dropped out.

Angelique tore into it and scanned the contents.

“They meant it when they said all expenses paid. This is a plane ticket a flight on American on September 9th with transportation from the airport hotel to the dock.”

Justin patted the chair beside him and said, “Better get a good breakfast in, and check your wardrobe for hot weather cruise wear. The clothes you bought for our honeymoon should work.”

“I hope there’s a clothing shop on board in case I need something I didn’t plan for.”

“Most cruise ships have a mall of some sort these days. You’ll see when you get there,” Justin said as he poured her cup of coffee.

Angelique took her first bite of her cream cheese and lox bagel.

“Why me?”

“Because you are one of the strongest women I know. And you’ll look spectacular at the captain’s table.”

Angelique laughed. “More likely I’ll end up doing repairs after a rowdy party.”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

She packed light, even though her ticket allowed a fully loaded suitcase.

Her flight was uneventful, and she appreciated the business class seat with her long legs. The questions flitting through her brain were extensive. Who was the sponsor of this contest? Would Captain Pius have more answers? Probably not.

They found one more sheet alluding to a women’s survivors group which backed this strange competition, but there was no contact information, and surprisingly nothing when she searched the internet. She wondered if her famous mother was the reason for her invitation.

Clearing security, she walked out onto the dock and up the long loading ramp to what appeared to be at least the fifth deck of the ship. Across the from the entryway, she spotted Captain Pius. At least the picture was accurate. Slate grey hair and moustache along with a uniform in deep blue with three braided rings on his jacket cuffs, assured her the bright blue eyes she met, were indeed the correct ones. At six feet tall she had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes.

Reinhart was a different story. A dwarf, his mischievous whiskey amber eyes gleamed with wicked glee.

“I hope you are ready for the cruise. The Bermuda Triangle will be part of our route.”

Angelique shuddered.

Were the stories true or just an AI enhanced horror story?

“Will you introduce me to the other contestants?”

“We shall see. For now, do not mention this challenge.”

The dwarf’s voice was far deeper than she expected.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

What the heck is that noise?

Angelique’s first thought was the dive warning aboard a submarine, but there was no way that was possible. She reminded herself she was aboard an unsinkable ship if you believed the unpronounceable name.

Checking her phone, she read 02:10 as the ship wide announcement blared harsh words.

Proceed to the lifeboats and prepare to abandon ship.

She grabbed the bottle of water as it rolled straight toward her head, twisted the cap off, and guzzled more than half of it as she struggled to swing her legs over the side of the bed. She was jammed up against the wall. The next second she rolled over toward the middle of her room. This was worse than a midway ride.

Finding her Crocs, she slipped them on. Angelique searched the floor beside the bed, with careful fingers. Finding her light waterproof jacket, she tied it around her waist, knotting the sleeves. The speakers crackled and went silent. Which was worse than the constant replay and then the lights went out.

Looking out her porthole window, she stared down into inky black seas, Inside of two seconds a huge wave crested and broke against the ship’s starboard side. The weather forecast she had never mentioned anything but mild swells with light variable winds. For crying out loud, there wasn’t even a tropical depression anywhere close.

Opting for the alternative option of sliding off the foot of the bed, she decided bare feet were not to her advantage. She grabbed her cross-chest pouch, checking to make sure her identification, credit cards, and passport were still inside. Adding a couple bags of trail mix, two bars of dark chocolate, she clambered up the slanting floor to the door and eased out into the hall way.

Her phone dropped out of the top of her sports bra as the ship rolled toward upright and heaved violently against the swell, tossing her against the door across from hers. Her right hip sang a painful refrain as she stopped to scoop up her Pixel Pro and slid it into the pouch snuggled between her breasts.

Feeling underdressed in Justin’s boxers and a loose tank top, Angelique braced herself against the wall with each step, making her way to the stairs. The squish of soggy carpet under her feet accelerated her heart beat. The emergency evacuation route was up B stairs to deck six. Then across the passage between the two dining areas to the port side of the ship. Ten lifeboats were fitted into massive racks.

No one believed they were ever going to get used. Even after the drill Captain Pius sprang on them one hour before dinner.

Not nearly as many passengers as spots in the life boats. At least not if she believed the number of people who participated in the drill were all of the passengers on board. Her gut said most of them didn’t bother. Especially after sitting at the Captain’s table with eight other VIPs on board. She recognized the other contestants. Reinhard introduced them to each other and the conversation turned toward speculations about what kind of challenges would come their way.

A sinking ship wasn’t on the list of possibilities they discussed.

The dwarf was ahead of her as they climbed. Four flights of eight steps and each one wrenched a yelp from her. Reinhart’s muscles rippled as he hauled himself up against the weird angle. Only two decks, and she wondered if climbing up the balconies on the outside of the ship might have been easier.

The stairs jerked under her, and Reinhart tumbled, falling backwards toward her. Without thinking she stepped over to stop his fall. Thank God for the relentless daily stairs at work.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He reached up, grabbed the handrail, and nodded.

“Thanks. Let’s keep moving. The door is right there.”

He pointed. Four more steps to go.

Angelique winced. His dreadlocks did nothing to cushion her pubic bone where his head connected. This wasn’t going to be an easy adventure.

She let the dwarf scramble up ahead of her, and when he pulled the door open she forced herself to take the last steps two at a time.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Got a few bumps and bruises, but nothing I can’t handle,” she answered.

“Then let’s get to the boats.”

He pointed.

“Right through there.”

Shit. The little mall is in shambles. Glas shelving from the stores shattered, and broken chairs piled everywhere. The Crocs are going to be useless once we get through here.

Reinhart was picking his way through the glass shards, and she followed in his footsteps.

“Can you get through this hole?”

“Damn!”

“I know, you’re one tall lady. Sorry, can’t get anything else to move.”

He ducked into the tiny opening and disappeared.

Angelique dropped to her knees and slithered through, but not before the ship rocked again, slamming her into one of the jammed chairs. It loosened the pile and she crawled franticly. The tunnel was closing fast behind her.

Bouncing to her feet as she cleared the last metal shelf holding her path to freedom open, she ran out onto the deck.

“Where is everyone?” she demanded.

“Two boats are away,” Captain Pius answered. “That’s 150 people. The cruise isn’t NOT full by any standards. We’re waiting on another sixty-two passengers, and twenty-five staff.”

“How long before she sinks?” she inquired.

“We don’t have more than another thirty minutes at best. Reinhart, into this boat. You too Angelique.”

“I’ll wait.”

The fewer people on the boat, the less arguing about survival rations.

As she watched the crew beginning lowering the lifeboat, a group of fifteen people dove in through it’s door.

“Where are the other contestants?” They were her biggest concern. Hardly fair to eliminate them due to a freak storm.

“I have no idea. One boat was away when I got here. I haven’t seen any of them since.”

The lifeboat splashed into the roiling sea.

The ship settled into a more extreme angle, and they slid toward the railing.

“Into this boat!”

Captain Pius pushed her toward the door.

Angelique headed to the first seat across from the door. Midship, it was the least likely to buck her loose. Hopefully it wouldn’t capsize.

All she could do now was wait.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Angelique woke to screaming gulls above her. Licking her lips, she found gritty grains of sand stuck to them and groaned. Nothing about this challenge was easy.

At least I’m alive. Barely though. My mouth feels like I’ve got cotton balls in it, so water first. Can I even walk, does everything still work?

She wiggled her toes, opened her eyes against the red haze of sun. Dawn? She didn’t know it might just be dusk too. Shivering, she decided it must be first light. Her jacket had somehow remained tied at her waist. Surprising.

Rolling over, she check her chest pouch. The zipper was open.

“Crap!” Her shout echoed, and she kipped up to look around. Of course, her cell phone was gone. Probably would have been useless in any case.

There were a few crates of flotsam on the beach. As far as Angelique could tell she was alone. Jungle grew right down to within a couple of yards of the high tide mark, and she sincerely hoped there were coconuts and date palms. Perhaps bananas? This was the Caribbean after all. But water first. Then catalogue what she could find in the crates. Hopefully something she could use to get through the thick undergrowth of vines and shrubs she noticed.

Raising her eyes, she saw the cliffs, and yanked her life jacket off. It wasn’t going to be of any use now. At least it kept her afloat when she flipped over on her back too tired to swim anymore. She started to cough, and water came up. Taking a deep breath another spasm hit her lungs and she dropped onto the sand waiting for them to calm down before pushing to her feet once more.

Shit. I hope there’s rope of some sort.

As she walked toward the ridge thrusting into the sea to her right, she spotted a building at the top of a sheer granite tor.

How the hell am I supposed to get up there? But I have to. There has to be someone up there. Someone built the place.

The sun was coming up over the ridge, so it ran north south. Shade would be her friend if she could get moving in the right direction. Angelique checked the back zipper of her bag and found her ID intact. A lot of good that would do her, unless she found a way to contact help. Her eyes caught the sparkle of a thin thread of a waterfall. The spray at the top of the ridge gave her hope. A rainbow formed in the rays of the rising sun. Water.

Thank you God!

She scrambled toward it and hoped it was potable. The runs weren’t on her list of things to do. Dipping her hands into the tiny pool at the bottom of the trickle, she used her first handful to scrub the sand off her face. Licking one of the drops running over her lips, it tasted a tiny bit salty, but hell she was fresh out of the sea. She drank, forcing herself to keep to small sips. Her stomach growled.

I wonder how long it’s been since the ship sank? The storm sank her lifeboat. I hope the others can swim. Now back to the crates.

The first crate had broken planks on one side. Scanning the beach, she spotted a pile of driftwood and picked a piece out. Surprisingly light, it was as hard as one of the basalt slabs leaning against the granite cliff.

Raising her improvised club above her head she let all her fear hit with it. The lid splintered and she grinned. Swinging a sledge hammer doing demolition paid dividends every time she found herself with a physical hurdle. Upper body strength was never an issue.

This crate was a dead loss. Nothing but canned sauces. She could break into them if she had to for food, but she needed a knife, axe or if she got her ultimate wish, a machete. Not likely. Counting the boxes, she started whacking them. Fifteen minutes later she found the motherlode. Replacement survival kits for the lifeboats.

Tearing into one of them, she found a survival knife and did a little jig in the sand. The crate of bottled water was another plus, and she dragged it under a bush at the edge of the jungle. It would be there if she didn’t find anyone at the installation on the top of the mini mountain behind her.

The bag the survival kits were in would make a great way to carry what she needed with her, and she stuffed her jacket in it. The loops of rope she pulled on to close it were perfect to sling over her shoulder.

Her stomach growled, cramping painfully. Food was next. The hike up the hill would be futile if she didn’t eat. Mango, mamey, and bananas should be there somewhere in the dense growth in front of her. Time to explore. Except she was getting the shakes. Low sugar. It didn’t bother her much anymore; in fact, she forgot about it entirely for the last years. She remembered to eat properly, and it wasn’t an issue.

I’m not in Illinois anymore. This is going to be a really big thing if I can’t find enough food. I should have revealed my hypoglycemia on the questionnaire. At least I’m not low enough to get a headache to go with my shaky hands.

Digging into another survival kit, she found chocolate and tore the package open, popping half of the small bar into her mouth. Chewing quickly, and swallowing almost immediately, she regretted not allowing it to melt in her mouth so she could savor the flavor of the semisweet treat. Popping the rest of the chocolate into her mouth, she up ended the open kit. The little package with a flame on it caught her eye.

Fire starter! Yes! Awesome even a tropical island got chilly at night when you don’t have anything but a light waterproof jacket to cover up with in the dark.

There was a small bag of trail mix, and a package of jerky which she pulled out of the kit next. Interesting choices for nutrition. Angelique tore into both packages and tossed the nuts and dried fruit into her mouth. Munching, she went back to the flotsam and studied the remaining tangle of a rope ladder with bits and pieces of other debris. If she took her time, she could get a couple of lengths of rope out of the mess. Tying them together would bring her a usable piece if she needed to use it to build a shelter.

She looked up over her shoulder to study the structure beckoning at the top of the island. It wasn’t a lighthouse, but perhaps an observatory or maybe even a house. Was there an owner for this little island? The buzz of insects had her going through the junk which arrived with her one more time.

“Ha! Insect repellant,” Angelique crowed, after digging through the box marked drugstore.

She sprayed the all-natural herbal formulated citronella-based liquid on every bit of her exposed skin. Now if only there was some sunscreen in the pile, she would be set. Not that it mattered her skin was already dark from the summer months she spent rehabbing her grandmother’s house. The bug spray went into her bag with the jacket, so did the fire starter.

The knife came with a sheath, and it needed to go on her waist or her thigh, but there was no way to accomplish it easily. She dropped into her bag as well. She grabbed an unopened food package and dropped it in, leaving everything else on the beach. If she didn’t find anyone at the top of the cliffs, then it would be there for her later.

Fruit was her next goal. A natural source of sugar would help her out even more. The best way up to the building would be following the top of the ridge toward the cliff. With luck she might be able to find a way up the cliff at some point. The rock wasn’t easy on her bare feet. What looked smooth from a distance was a myriad of sharp-edged cracks once she got further up toward the trees.

Wincing, she picked her way through the last few feet and sighed when she found the soft mulchy hubris of the jungle floor. There seemed to be a narrow path, and she stayed on it. The screech of a bird startled her, and she turned in a quick spin trying to see where it was. Only the soft rustle of disturbed leaves greeted her searching eyes.

Ahead she spotted a mamey tree. The tough skin of the fruit was like a hard shell, but the treat was welcome. The exotic smoothie bar in Prairie du Rocher introduced her to the lovely sweetness of the flesh inside. Deep red, she knew it was ripe. The girl who made her drinks showed her what was going into hers when her curiosity got the better of her.

She yanked one down, and dropped to sit with her legs crossed, digging the knife out of her bag. Stabbing the rind, sweet juice dribbled out and she licked it up, savoring it like it was the ambrosia of the Gods. Splitting it the rest of the way, Angelique used her fingers to scoop the rest of it out to eat. The tremor in her hands stopped inside of a couple of minutes.

The gurgle of water caught her attention next. The little spring on the ridge hadn’t given her any bad symptoms yet, but swiftly running water was a better bet. She continued along the path, looking for animal tracks. Nothing. The bird call earlier could be a potential source of protein and if there were fish in the stream which was getting louder as she walked that was another.

Driftwood meant a signal fire if she didn’t find help.

All in all, not a bad place to be marooned, I just hope none of this is needed if I can find help.

The path made an abrupt turn and she caught her breath. The drop-off was steep and she understood the volume of the water she heard. The rush wasn’t quite the thunder of the Colorado river rapids in the Grand Canyon, but she wouldn’t want to fall into it either. And on top of it, the creek or river or what ever you wanted to call it, didn’t come out on the beach, which meant it probably went underground.

The bridge was half rotten, the planks intermittent, and the rope hand holds were frayed.

Is this worth it? Am I tempting fate going after the help at the top? Much as I love an adventure obstacle course with ziplines and other challenges, this is insane. There’s no safety net!

Forward wasn’t the only way to survive, but if she wanted to get back to Jason quickly, and not become a lost at sea statistic, it was the only option. Bare feet were handy here. With great care, she set her left foot on the first board, testing its stability. Taking a deep breath, she brought right foot onto the next one.

So far, so good.

I have to be crazy to try this.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Angelique continued one careful step at a time. Twice a board snapped and disintegrated as she settled her weight on it. Swinging wildly, the bridge swayed until she stopped struggling to regain her footing. Moving her hands along the rough rope, she made her way to the next board and tried her knees on it.

It held.

Grinding her jaws together she continued hearing the snap of the rope rails, she had to stop the urge to try running the last few steps. Sighing as she grasped one of the poles on the other side she felt the last two boards give as she moved to safety.

Turning to look back, she wished she had taken the bottled water with her. There was no going back as the first board was more than ten feet out, and the ropes were down to four of the twenty strands which used to be twisted together. The only way forward was up, and she hoped there was another water source.

Settling on a boulder a bit further along, she peered up. Angelique couldn’t see the building at the top, but since she remembered the ridges and shape of them, she knew there was another long stretch to the top of this section which went west.

Climbing along the path, she found a few animal tracks. Possibly a small wild cat, and another she didn’t recognize, she kept moving and found a small pool. Two banana plants grew beside it, and she could see where birds took bites out of the yellow skins. She helped herself to three of them, eating them slowly before she tested the water.

Matching the strip to the chart on the box, she found the color and read the results. Safe to drink and cook without worry. Drinking her fill as she knelt on the mossy edge of the tiny pond, she hoped she wasn’t stuck on the ridge forever. Night was falling, and she needed shelter.

The pool was a great spot, and banana plant fronds were good building materials. Even better for a bed to sleep on. Angelique set about building the shelter and finding firewood. By the time the sun set in brilliant reds and golds she was cozy in her temporary home. The silence around her was complete except the faint whisper of the sea under a brilliant full moon.

Next morning she dropped a couple of small pieces of wood into the embers of her fire and studied the water reflecting the dull grey clouds. The old saying proved true, and she knew a storm was coming. Not the brief shower of a thunderstorm, but the steady bone-chilling deluge of hyperthermia inducing rain. Packing her meager equipment into the bag, she hustled up the path. Making it to the building at the top of the next ridge was imperative.

She heard the screaming call of parrots echoing from the cliff and she wondered if they were warning each other about the oncoming bad weather. She reached the edge of the ridge cliff and all she could see were two posts one on either side of the chasm.

I knew that rope was going to be a necessity. Now how to cast it across this. Can I figure out how to make a lasso, and use it effectively? I guess I’m going to find out.

Angelique formed the loop and played with it, learning how it moved using the pole on her side. Backing away from it by retreating on the path, she threw it over a dozen times before she finally figured it out. A side arm movement worked best, and she drew in a deep breath, steading herself.

She could smell the rain coming as she threw the rope after testing the knots which tied the length together. Counting the casts, she adjust her aim until it finally settled on the post. Tugging on it, she tied a double hitch and sat down to catch her breath. The tremble in her hands reminding her to find something to eat.

Sniffing Angelique scented ripe mango, and search the jungle, thanking the parrots for their annoying habit of taking a few bites from every piece of fruit on a tree. Sticky juice dripped on her head, and she grabbed the closet branch, pulling it down. It paid off. Eating as she walked back to her improvised bridge; she finished her meal in record time.

Shrugging into the cords forming the straps of her bag, she settled it against her back.

Please God, no more canyons to cross. I hate having to leave this rope here.

She slid out onto it and pulled her legs up to cross over, her bag swaying below her. Angelique went hand over hand across the gap. At least it was easy to keep her eyes on the goal. The first raindrops hit her face as she swung her legs up to capture the post. Now all she had to do was pull herself up.

Taking a moment to wait for her pounding heart to calm, she said another prayer. Why was it she never thought of God until she needed a way out of a bad place?

Pulling herself up by the sheer strength of her abs, she rolled onto the next ridge. Opening her bag, she pulled out her jacket and hoped it would be enough to keep her warm as she began the trek up into the wind. Her bangs dripped water into her eyes, and it was all she could do to keep moving. Spotting another mamey tree, she harvested one, cutting a hole into the narrow end and sucking liquid. This one was a bit fermented, and she was grateful for the warmth of the alcohol when it hit her stomach.

How far was it to the building?

Angelique knew she had to get out of the storm and emptied her mind of anything except the goal ahead of her. What if there was no way inside?

Stop it. I can’t allow any negatives right now. I will make it. I’ve conquered bigger challenges. This is just another walk in the park.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It seemed the trail up to the building was endless, and Angelique stopped often to eat her fill of the various fruits along the way. When the misty drizzle finally quit, she stepped on something with a sharp edge which penetrated her banana leaf shoes. Cold mud seeped through as she scanned for more leaves and vines to replace her improvised foot covering.

Squatting she searched through the mud for the object which knifed into her foot. She was damn glad it didn’t manage to tear through the callus at the base of her big toe. Once it was in her hand, she held it under the steady drip from one of the tree leaves beside the path and smiled when she saw the toe shaped shell with its characteristic sharp edge. Brazil nuts! Protein at last. All she needed was a good-sized rock to break the notoriously hard covering. The color of bittersweet chocolate, the flesh inside was almost as hard as its covering.

With the last rays of sun slipping between breaking cloud cover, she found a large handful of the nutritious nuts and slipped them into her bag. Finding a rock wasn’t going to be a problem. Cupping her hands under the same dripping leaf she drank her fill of rainwater before continuing in a better frame of mind. The last thing she needed was to start loosing muscle mass because she couldn’t find a source of protein and fats.

As she topped the ridge, she found two more banana plants and sat to fashion a new shoe for her right foot. Once satisfied that it was properly secured, she turned back east as she followed the switchback in the trail. Ahead she saw the glimmer of firelight and the scent of smoke filled the air.

Why didn’t it bother her sooner? Whatever the reason, fire meant someone lit it and therefore people or at least someone who could help her out. Whoever lived in the building was likely enjoying the evening and keeping the bugs away.

Speaking of which, she waved her hand in front of her face to clear the annoying buzzing. The mosquitos were back, and she paused to spray herself down with repellant.

Slowing to silence her progress she approached the little camp. There were three people sitting around the fire. Two of them on round boulders and another on a large upright log which seemed barely big enough to keep him comfortable. As her eyes adjusted to the dropping light, she scanned the little clearing, spotting what appeared to be a child in sleeping bag. Motionless, Angleique assumed they were asleep. There was no telling if it was a girl or boy, and the odd pillow their laid upon, didn’t look comfortable.

One woman, her hair a lovely honey blonde with lighter highlights reflecting the flames in front of her, turned her head to look directly at her.

Time to introduce herself. She stepped out from between the banana plants.

“I hate to intrude, but are you from the building?”

“And who are you to ask?” The woman sounded cautious.

The man on his improvise wooden seat, pulled a large bladed weapon from a sheath on his back.

Angelique straightened up, planting her feet at shoulder width.

“I’m Angelique. I was shipwrecked. I’m looking for a way back to civilization.”

It was the older gentleman who answered her. His eyes warm with welcome.

“I’m Simon, you are welcome to join us, but there is a price.”

“I haven’t a thing to pay you with,” she answered.

I hope this isn’t going to cost me my life. That man is a giant, and he looks like he can use that sword.

“Nothing drastic,” Simon said.

“Just some entertainment. Make us laugh,” the woman said.

“It’s been ages since we’ve had a good giggle,” The child in the sleeping bag sat up, and a saw a word in red on the grey bundle which served as her pillow. Obviously a girl, the word read PINCH. Angelique wondered if that was her name or her occupation. She moved her bag off her shoulder and wrapped her right arm around it, holding it against her chest.

“I’ll have to think for a bit,” I said. “I’m not a great storyteller.”

“Join us. We’re about to roast some sort of fowl. A large one at that,” the giant said. He was almost as tall sitting as she was.

Simon must have seen my trepidation.

“Garbus there, is a gentle giant unless he perceives danger to himself or the party. At the moment you are part of the party.”

Garbus’ large hand patted the fallen log behind him, and the grasped a skewer of meat. The pieces of some sort of bird they must have snared or otherwise captured. His voice was a deep rumble, tinged with gravel as he extended it over the fire.

“It won’t take to long to cook this.”

Angelique decided to trust Simon and dropped her bag on the log before rolling her shoulders and dropping down to sit. At least she wasn’t trying to keep her butt out of the mud.

“And who are you?” She met the eyes of the woman. Somehow her stillness was more of a threat than the men were.

“I’m Rhojeka.”

“Not a name I’ve ever heard before,” she said as she opened her bag and unwrapped the banana leaf with the Brazil nuts in it. “Are there some rocks or should I go find them. I need them to open these shells.”

“They’re nuts?” Rhojeka asked.

The brown-haired eyes pierced hers.

“Edible and nutrient dense,” Angelique replied. “I would be a poor guest if I didn’t bring some sort of gift.”

“That doesn’t get you out of telling us a story,” Garbus growled.

Pinch brought her a small slab of slate and a round rock.

“Then I’ll just smash these nuts before I start.”

Angelque cleared her throat and began.

“Simon’s name reminds me of a game we played when I was at a party. One of the first where we were allowed to dance with each other and otherwise explore the idea of having a significant relationship.”

Pinch stared at her and she winced. This wasn’t a good start.

“The game was Simon says.”

“What does what I say have to do with it?”

His puzzled look had her smiling.

“The game is someone is picked to be Simon. They choose to tell you what to do. So, the girl who despised me, was Simon that day.”

“What are the rules to the game?” Pinch asked.

“When Simon uses the words Simon says before the action you must obey. If he doesn’t and just gives you the action, and you do it anyway, you lose and have to sit out the rest of the round. The last person still in without doing something they shouldn’t wins.”

“Simple,” Pinch said.

“Not when Simon says comes continuously with every action, until it is an automatic response with the first word the designated Simon utters.”

“Oh-no,” Rhojeka’s tone and her look of comprehension made Angelique smile.

“In any case, the boy everyone considered the ugliest, meanest person in school was sitting next to me. Simon says had us standing, sitting, laying down, and running on the spot until she said kiss the person next to you without the Simon says.”

She paused for a moment to let her words sink in then continued.

“He was a dwarf, and as you can see, I am not,” Angelique stood, to emphasize her height. Being just a quarter inch under six feet tall she pointed at her well-defined breasts and asked, “Guess where he kissed me?”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Your belly button?” Pinch asked.

Angelique could see the other three, holding their laughter as they caught the true meaning of her question.

“Definitely.” She answered. Pinch must be from a culture where children remained more innocent than what was normal in her world.

Rhojeka nodded. “It must have such an embarrassing moment.”

“Funny too,” Garbus chuckled, his eyes stayed on hers, and she appreciated his attitude.

Simon turned his head to chuckle discretely, then spoke.

“Your story has amused us all. You are welcome to sleep by our fire, and you are free to go in the morning to continue your journey.”

“Come on, Angelique. Let us gather some leaves and make you a more comfortable place to sleep. You seem to have a bedroll with you.” Rhojeka pointed at the blue tarp she had rolled up where it stuck out of the top of her bag.

“Banana plant leaves work well,” she suggested. “There are a couple of them just down the pat there.”

“I’ll help you gather them.”

“Thank you.”

Angelique realized just how tired she was when she stretched out with her head on her bag for a pillow. The ground under her leaf bed was a sandy hollow, and far better than the shale and scree of the last couple of nights. Sleep came quickly even with the sounds of soft conversation around the fire.

When she woke to shadow dappled light, the sun was higher in the sky than she would have liked. The cool of the day was already gone. At least the extended sleep helped most of her bruised body heal. Stretching carefully, she tested the aches she lived with for the last two days and found them tolerable. She rolled over to scan the campsite, and found it deserted.

Interesting. It was almost as if the whole experience was a dream. No hope of any help from her audience if she ran into trouble, and since the entire experience was fraught with one challenge or another, she expected the building looming at the top of the hill would be no different.

Over the fire, a skewer of meat rested on two sticks whittled to support it. It was kind of them to leave her a bit of breakfast. Angeliques thoughts turned to the rope she had to leave behind as she chewed the dried meat. Somehow Garbus had produced something akin to jerky. Wandering through the thicket of smaller trees and banana plants she found vines twined around several of them. Time to replace the rope. It would be worth the delay.

Walking eased the remaining stiffness, and she ran through a few yoga poses. Her flexibility returned to a somewhat decent level as she went through her usual routine. Amazing what good sleep did to restore a body. Another good night should put her close to normal again.

Walking back to the camp site she was astounded at how completely all evidence of her companions the night before disappeared. The jerky-like dried cooked meat was the only thing that remained other than the bed Rhojeka helped her put together. Angelique pulled the tarp off the leaves and set it up above her forming a shelter in the small undercut in the cliff. Building up her fire, she pulled her jacket out of her bag and spread it out to cover most of her torso.

Sleep came quickly and she dreamed of Justin. Watching him as he spent time with their friends speculating about what she was going through. When he went home, he pressed two fingers to his lips and then pressed them to her face in the portrait from the party after their wedding.

Waking suddenly, Angelique reached for her husband and found herself shivering with wet cheeks. Her fire was out, and the eastern horizon was shifting from black to blue. The sky was clear, and pale peach spread as sunrise approached. Time to get going.

Coiling the rope she finished braiding; she measured the length. Hopefully it was strong enough for whatever purpose it would serve. She placed it in the bag, and pulled the jacket on, stuffing her survival knife in one of the pockets. Chewing the last two pieces of meat, she decided to start up the last short climb to the building at the top of the cliff.

The sooner she found her way into it the better. From the look of the antennas sticking up like porcupine quills all over the roof of the building, there had to be some sort of radio system inside. There were even cell phone antennas, which she thought were a cruel joke. God only knew where hers disappeared to. Perhaps Davy Jone’s Locker?

As more of the installation appeared, Angelique reconsidered her options. Would her knife work like the ax she loved to throw? Vegetation was sparse up here, but there were a few coconut palms swaying in the breeze coming in off the ocean. The trunk of one would make for a good target. Taking time to practice throwing the survival knife was exactly the right move.

It took her an hour to hone in the correct movements to get some accuracy, and she changed the distance a few times as she worked. Satisfied that she could what she aimed at, Angelique looked around for food. Quick energy was important just now, as she could feel the beginnings of the familiar tremble which scared her silly every time it appeared.

She scanned her surroundings and spotted the top branches of a mamey tree peeking over the edge of the path. Hewn into the stone, the trail climbed at a steady angle toward a huge door in the south facing façade. Using her rope with a stone tied to the end of it, she lassoed a branch pulling it toward herself and plucking three ripe red fruits of the tree limb.

Angelique retrieved her rope and placed it back in her bag along with one of the mameys. Who knew if there were food sources in the building. Cutting the end off the slightly less ripe fruit she stabbed the knife into the hole, then covered it with her palm. After shaking it hard, she tipped it to her lips and drained the juice it provided, then proceeded to cut it open and eat the rest of the sweet flesh.

The closer she got to what looked to be an observatory, the more she realized the entire outer surface of it was constructed of a non-reflective metal. It seemed to absorb the sunshine and suck the warmth right out of the air. Where it should have been as hot as Hades, it was disturbingly cold. Angelique estimated at least a ten degree drop in temperature.

She scanned the top for anything that looked like a sliding roof and was rewarded with a rail system with roller bearings protected inside it. The antennas were speckled across the oblong lower half with the entrance in a wing that was perpendicular to it. The door was in the end of it. Three lights glimmered at waist height on the right-side frame. Since they flashed in a rotating pattern of red, green, and yellow, she took a guess and stabbed the green when it flashed in each of the circles in order from left to right.

The howling groan of machinery which hadn’t moved in an eon of time, almost deafened her, and she clapped her hands over her ears. What the heck was this place?

Amber lights glowed at intervals along the corner of the ceiling and the walls. The structure separating them was another two feet thick. Sticking close to one wall, she promised herself to check the doors on the other side when she came back the other way.

Opening the first door she peered inside and saw a bed which was made with military precision. Okay accommodations, so this was owned by some nation’s protective forces. With the style of it, she had to assume top-secret of some sort. She zig-zagged between the doors, leaving them open as she explored. There were bedrooms for ten soldiers before she came to the center atrium and spotted a strange object hovering at the top.

“That’s a UFO. At least it is to me. Might be someone’s experimental flying saucer, but it’s nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

Her voice echoed, and she heard an answering beep.

“Oh no, now I’ve done it.”

Angelique scurried across the circular floor over to the passage on the other side. There was a kitchen, a dining hall with a couple of long tables and benches, a laundry room, and a recreation room with a ping pong table and a couple of pinball machines. A stairwell went up from the end of the hall.

She started to climb hoping to find the room where the radios were located. Heavy footsteps thudded along somewhere above her, and goosebumps raised the fine hair on her arms. Were there railings at the end of this hallway? Could she force it off the end and get it to drop to the bottom? There was nothing on the ground floor for it to hit, and Angelique scanned the ceilings looking for fire suppression sprinklers as she eased out into the passage. Empty, and the tell-tale little nozzles dotted the center of the ceiling at approximately twelve-foot intervals.

Back in the stairwell, she decided to scan every floor on the north wing. Nothing, but she did find an operating suite and what looked like a well-equipped medical facility on the top floor. Good to know. If she injured herself she could at least apply first aid to herself.

Thanking her banana leaf shoes for her near silent movement, she went back down to the ground floor and found the one stairwell which was just inside the east wing. It went up to the fourth floor and then continued up to the roof. Seeing the emergency only exit warning, she made note of it. If she had to, she’d use it. Wondering if there was a helicopter landing pad, she descended. Two wings down, with no encounters.

Starting the climb on the south wing, she noticed there were two more steps on each flight of stairs. Checking the first floor, she found nothing but being curious as to why the ceilings were closer to ten feet up rather than the standard eight, she walked the entire length back down to the atrium. She found an elevator. The lights above it showed it didn’t get down to the ground floor, and the footsteps she heard were considerably louder.

Still no sign of a communications hub, so she needed to go higher. If there was something or someone guarding this wing, it was likely the operations center was up from where she stood staring at the elevator and trying to decide whether or not to take it up. Pushing the up button, she hissed. The light with the number two lit and she could hear the faint sounds of the door opening above her.

“Shit!” The hollow echo wasn’t going to make anything worse happen. Maybe it would misdirect her stalker as to where she was located.

Scampering down to the end of the hall, she slipped into the stairwell. With a little luck she could get a glimpse of whatever was making the clattering steps above her. It sounded like metal, but she couldn’t imagine anything which would make such a unique sound signature. Not even Boston Robotics’ massive robot research and development department had anything big enough in their inventory.

Leaving the door open, she listened. The elevator opened and the thumping crack of metal on concrete made her jump in spite of being ready for the noise. She eased out and then moved cautiously back into the dark of the stairwell. The red beam of a laser location device convinced her it wasn’t safe out there. Footsteps continued in a measured march, louder with each one as they approached her hiding spot.

The rhythmic pace of noise stopped with an almost deafening silence in its wake. Angelique surmised whatever it was right outside her door. A squeal of metal made her wonder what was wrong, and then the footsteps moved again, getting softer as they progressed.

She stepped out to get a look at her enemy.

Holy hell, he’s huge!! Keep your mouth shut girl. Look what it got me when I didn’t. Why do I assume a robot is a he? Never mind. He’s got a clamping shear on one hand and what looks like a full gatling gun for the other. Kill must be his only instruction. Kill to keep this installation safe and secure. How am I going to get around him? It’s head doesn’t turn, but the laser scans back and forth. I’m safe if I stay quiet right behind him.

She watched him get back into the elevator which was a surprising good fit for his mass. The light for floor two flashed, and then she heard the faint sounds of him getting off on three.

Maybe I can use his search pattern against him. I can search the next floor while he’s up there. I’ll have at least five minutes. That’s what counting the seconds told me as he walked back and forth to the elevator.

Angelique took the stairs up two at a time and realized the stairwell and the ground floor were her safe zones in this section of the x-shaped facility. The radios were probably on the robot’s patrol routine. The doorways into the steps were just seven feet high, the bot was a bit more than nine. If she stayed back from the atrium on the other wings, she was safe enough in them too. She could survive, but that wasn’t the point. Getting home was the whole reason she was in wandering around this place.

And what about the UFO? Was it the point of this structure? An Area 51 hidden on a remote Caribbean island in the middle of the Bermuda triangle wasn’t a stretch for any of the American allies.

Shaking her head ad her thoughts she went down the hall.

The room behind fourth door and closest to the elevator had uniforms and other clothing including hazmat suits in it. Grabbing a men’s medium with a T on the sizing tag, which she hoped would fit her well enough, she dashed back to the stairwell with it under her arm. Maybe it would afford her a chance of safety if the bot hesitated when he saw her in it.

As she sat on a step to push her feet into the trouser legs, she giggled softly. Bare feet were going to be better than banana leaves, and she undid the braided vine laces which held them to her ankles. Dressed in a khaki dessert camouflage one star General’s uniform, she made her way up to the top floor.

Is that single star going to make a difference to the bot? Will he even recognize it as a symbol of authority, or is his programming so corrupted that it wasn’t even worth getting into it?

The door onto this floor had a flashing lock like the entry to the facility. Was this one a different code?

Keep it simple stupid. Likely restricted. I’m going to try for three red lights in order from left to right.

Angelique heard the snick of a lock releasing at the same time as a green ray came on narrowly missing her wrist. A web-like network of green laser beams barred her way from retreating. Fortunately, the door pushed out into the hall, and she wondered when her luck would run out.

A glass wall faced her as the door clicked shut behind her. She spun around and grabbed the handle. Locked. Not that it mattered.

She could see banks of radios on the right-side wall and computer workstations directly in front of her as she slid a glass door to the left. As soon as she stepped in, she could hear the hum of computers sitting idle waiting for operators. They didn’t interest her. It was the radios. Five of them. The one with the red frame also had a corresponding mic of the same color.

Pulling an office chair on wheels out from under the counter she sat and studied the knobs, rocker switches, and displays on the red framed radio. She hit the raised side of the one labeled power, and it lit up. Knowing how they worked because of the ones in Renewals company vehicles, she turned the knob with her right hand as she scanned the binders lined up on a shelf just under the radio.

“There’s the red one. Should be instructions in here,” she said under her breath.

The red emergency communications radio should always be powered on.

Angelique snickered. “Situation normal all effed up.”

The instructions continued and she dialed in the correct frequency.

Call Pan, Pan, Pan

When someone responds say:

Emergency Area 51 Bravo Tango

Then move away from the glass wall after tossing the mic and cord over the radio bank. The robot will be looking for you.

Instructions to disable it will be relayed.

Typical dumbass instructions.

She tossed the tightly curled cord over the top of the racks and pulled her self around the end using her feet to propel her chair.

Taking a deep breath she to took a second to try and calm her pounding heart and gave up.

Holding the mic the prescribed half inch from her lips, she spoke.

“Pan, pan, pan.”

Waiting for thirty seconds, listening for a response, she tried again. The elevator door was opening and her chest squeezed with heavy pressure as she spoke. Her voice squeaked and she could feel herself blushing.

“Pan, pan, pan”

This time there was a response.

“What is your emergency?”

“I am in Area 51 Bravo Tango.”

“That’s decommissioned.”

“It’s not. I need help. The robot is hunting me. I am a castaway on this insane island.”

The voice on the other end barked orders, forgetting to release his mic button.

She heard someone in the background yell.

“Hit the red button down the little hall behind you. The bot cannot get to it.”

Glass shattered as he spoke and the laser cut a smoking hole through the wall to her left. Angelique dropped the mic as the laser sliced through on the other side of her position. She pushed the chair back the way she came from past the opening into a hall which belonged on a submarine. She had to turn sideways to work her way into it. Her chair burst into flame and the sprinklers activated when she found the button. Hitting it with her fist, she welcomed the pain in her knuckles.

Please God, let this work!

More glass broke and a laser beam hit at her feet an inch from her left little toe. Closing her eyes, Angelique prepared to die. The hallway wasn’t long enough. She put her hands over her mouth. No way she was going out on a scream. After what seemed like an hour, she heard a voice.

“Ma’am, we’re sending a rescue helicopter. We recommend you stay where you are. There are traps everywhere in the building which have been activated by remote control.”

She crawled out of the hallway.

How had that radio survived?

“Repeat that please.” She wasn’t sure where the words had come from.

The voice repeated the same instructions.

“Thank you, thank you. I’m still behind the radios.”

“Stay where you are. There will be questions.”

I’ve got a few myself, but when speaking to a superior officer it’s never safe to be anything less than obedient.

“Yes, sir!”

A melodious voice sang out on a rising scale.

“Are you going to open the roof before they get here?”

“And why should I?” Angelique couldn’t believe anyone else was in this godforsaken installation.

“Because this place has been my prison for more than half a century. And helping you would have killed you too.”

“Damn. What are you?” There couldn’t be any more twists to this adventure. At least she had help coming, but how long before they got here?

“Too late.” Somehow the voice changed registers from soprano to bass, and the notes went down in a long slide into an impossibly low rumble.

Angelique heard the thump of a heavy helicopter approaching.

“I’m sorry.”

“You will be. If you’re lucky you can get to the helicopter before I explode. My self-destruct has been activated by remote programming. Good luck.”

Angelique ran through the glass shards and down the hall to the stairs to the roof. The lasers were miraculously gone. The shut off button must have killed the entire intruder alert response. Climbing the stairs with her feet cut to ribbons was torture and she heard the helicopter land. Slamming into the door release bar she pushed out onto the helipad, limping as she ducked under the rotor blades.

Shoving the soldier who was about to hop out back inside, she followed him inside. When he stepped over her to try to exit again, she grabbed his ankle and held on like a rottweiler with a tug toy.

“Get us out of here. This place is going to blow. Feel that rumble?” She screamed against the insane noise inside the helicopter.

The guy shoved a head set into her hands and she put it on repeating her demand, as she hauled herself to her feet in a puddle of blood.

“She’s right. Get that door closed,” sounded in her ears.

Angelique lost track of her stomach when it slammed through her throat, and she landed on her butt hard. A cloud of dust and flames passed the helicopter as it rose through its ascent tilting forward as it went. Clearing into blue sky, she heard the pilot, or at least who she thought the pilot was, say.

“Brace for the shock wave.”

She decided wrapping an arm around the metal legs of one of the seats where it bolted into the floor was her only chance at surviving. Stuffing her other hand against her mouth, she braced.

I’m still not going out on a scream.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Angelique felt the prick of a needle in her arm and finally howled.

“Nooooooooo!”

Struggling, she rolled away from it.

“Angel, stay with me,” Justin’s voice penetrated the horror of red laser beams, exploding shrapnel, and a helicopter which was going to crash.

“Angelique, lay still. Your blood sugar is way too low, and we’re trying to start an IV.”

“Give me a minute Doctor, she’s having a nightmare.”

Damn right this is a nightmare. What is going on? Is the helicopter all right? Where am I?

“Wake up Angel. The chopper didn’t crash. You’re safe in Bermuda, but your sugar keeps tanking.”

Justin’s soft words penetrated the fog around her, and she felt his familiar touch. No one else had hands like the one cupping her cheek.

“That’s it, open your eyes. Come on Angel, you can do it.”

“Oh my God, Justin. You found me!” His beautiful artist’s palette eyes held hers. She brought her free hand up to touch the pronounced stubble on his cheek.

“No, the British army found you on an Island not very far from Bermuda, but well into the Triangle.”

The other voice barked a sharp command.

“Stay still. You have critically low blood sugar. In fact, I don’t know how you’re conscious. Let me start this IV.”

She turned her head, looking around to see she was in a tiny room with a sliding glass door. A privacy curtain obscured her view beyond a tiny sliver of a broad hallway. The doctor had a neatly trimmed dark red goatee with a close-cut head of carrot colored hair.

“ER?” she asked and relaxed. “I’m safe?”

“You will be if we can get some glucose into you. There was an explosion on the island you washed up on. How were you surviving? A sugar of 2.1 isn’t compatible with life,” the doctor grumbled as she felt the stab of the canula going into her forearm.

“Fruit mostly, I’m not sure what was real and what wasn’t anymore.”

“We have to take you up to surgery to repair the lacerations on your feet. We pulled some impressive pieces of glass out of them. Getting your blood sugar up is first though. We’ve stopped the bleeding and dumped three units of blood into you as soon as you arrived.”

Angelique shook her head.

“It wasn’t a dream then?” She asked.

A knock on the door startled Justin and she squeezed his hand as he jerked away to see what was up.

“Can I speak with her now?”

The woman was dressed in the same uniform she found in the building with the UFO.

“Keep it brief. We’re taking her upstairs in fifteen. Her feet are a mess.” Doctor red hair said.

“Thank you sir. I’ll just be a few minutes.” She turned to face her and looked at Justin. “Can please leave? I promised, I’m not here to do any harm. Just want to confirm a few details.”

“I’ll be watching from out there.” Justin pointed to the door.

“That’ll be fine.”

Angelique noted the brass stars on her shoulders. Three of them.

“General…?” she asked.

“General Atkins. I was the one who shut down the UFO silo and left the APR there.”

“Diabolical.” She noted the woman’s stone-grey hair, sleeked back in a bun. They were probably about the same height, and her blue eyes reminded her of the ocean where she washed up on shore.

“Nice work getting away. You triggered the self-destruct sequence as well. The triple red on the communications wing was designed for a military code red. We’re hoping whatever sent that UFO doesn’t have a watch on it. No telling what might come after us for killing it off.”

The officer’s accent remind her of Queen Elizabeth II.

“Figures. I took a wild guess based on the triple green to get in. The APR?”

“Attack Prevention Robot. Should’ve been enough to keep most people out. Several have tried to get in but couldn’t get past the entry door. We cleaned up half a dozen military spies who were eliminated over the last seventy years.”

“The doors were elementary.” Angelique shrugged her shoulders.

“You’d think so. I’ll want to talk to you again once they’ve fixed up your feet.”

“Yeah, but you’ll have to find me at home. I’m out of here as soon as they’ll clear it.”

“Understood. We’ll arrange it with your husband. He’s a bulldog when it comes to keeping you safe.” General Atkins gestured for Justin to come back in.

Angelique grinned. “He’s been that way since I slammed the door in his face when we first met. One thing you should know immediately. The entity inside that UFO spoke to me. It was feminine by the pitch, wanting me to open the silo roof, and the warned me about the self-destruct. I don’t think the aliens who sent it were aggressive based on that.”

“Thank you for confirming what our sensors recorded, Angelique. That’s enough for now. We’ll debrief the rest of the way once you are home and healing.” The general turned to Justin and said, “Good to see a strong relationship working for her. Keep advocating. I’m pretty sure your government will send someone out to assess risk factors as well. It was a joint operation.”

The female soldier exited the room and she hit the buzzer.

“What’s up, Angel?”

“Need the bathroom, and I’m hungry beyond belief.”

“No food until you come out of surgery.” Justin bent down to scoop her up. “You’ve lost quite a few pounds.”

A nurse pushed a wheelchair through the door as he spoke.

“Let’s get you ready to go. The Doc has confirmed you can go home tomorrow if everything goes well.”

Justin settled her into the wheeled seat, and Angelique looked up at them.

“How do people live with seeing the world at crotch level?”

“You won’t be in there for long. Once you’re stitched up, we’ll give you padded shoes to wear, and you can go home.” The nurse informed her and wheeled her into the bathroom.

These wheelchairs were slick with the way things could be moved out of the way, and once she was shown what to do, Angelique took care of business using her superior upper body conditioning to move herself around to complete her business. Using her hands, she wheeled back to her room just in time to transfer back onto her bed. Her chart was under the pillow, and Justin dropped a quick kiss on her cheek as the porters rolled her out.

Angelique knew she was in good hands. The only question which remained was whether she was now under an NDA. Not that she wanted to talk about this misadventure to anyone but Justin. This nightmare belonged in the past.

Afterward

“Mom, what is that light in the sky? It’s here every time we come out to the cabin. And don’t tell me it’s just another star.”

Angelique’s twelve-year-old son was an avid star watcher. His telescope was mounted on the upper balcony of the cabin. She shook her head at the number of times she renovated out in the middle of the forest. Access was now a proper two-lane road, and their cousins invaded regularly on Memorial Day and Independence Day. They even had a parking pad with services for their motorhomes.

A small turbine at the waterfall provided electricity, with the wires buried to keep the pristine landscape unmarred. Their drinking water supply arrived in the same trench, also buried, and covered with a wide path between the cabin and the pond at the top of the cliff.

Her little sister, who was also her niece, stood beside Ashton. The story there was a huge miracle. Her mother married Justin’s father in a quiet ceremony when they discovered she was pregnant, and not in menopause as they assumed. Nora was born the day after her inquisitive son. The two were as close as twins, as Angelique and her mother shared their child raising duties to keep their careers afloat. When her twins followed two years later, Maha and Denzel became surrogate grandparents for all four children.

“Mom!” Ashton’s impatient shout brought her out of her memories.

“I’ll tell you the story when we’re all here tonight. When we have our fire going and the marshmallows are roasting,” she deflected his question.

“Oh goody! A ghost story?” Bella loved to write. At ten, she had several very good efforts tucked away in notebooks she arranged above her desk at home.

“I’ll bet it’s an adventure,” Braydon insisted. Her twin was fearless, and used the zipline they built from the cliff down to the bottom of the waterfall at least once a day when they were at the cabin.

Angelique laughed and winked as Justin nodded from where he relaxed on the padded bench at the end of the balcony.

Nora, with her perceptive gaze locked on her, asked, “Is it a secret?”

“Actually, yes. We’ll wait for your parents to get her later and I’ll tell you why that light in the sky is there whenever we come out here.”

“I knew it wasn’t a star, a planet or a comet.” Ashton’s accusatory statement made her wince.

“You deserve to know. All of you. You’re my family and it’s time.”

“Agreed,” Justin rumbled. “It’s time.”