There Is An Island Off The Coast Of Washington Where A Religious Cult Operates A ‘Colony’

Gabby pulled up a section of the floorboards and lifted up to the level of her eyes. I could barely see in the dark, but below the opening in the floorboards was a little dirty hole just about big enough for the both of us. I followed Gabby down into the hole and she shut the rickety boards above us.

“A little schoolyard secret.”

We breathed quietly in the dark for a few moments, praying not to have our lungs drowned out by the sound of our pursuers walking into the playhouse.

“What were you going to tell me?” Gabby broke the dark of silence.

“I had sex with Coach Raphael,” I blurted it out louder than I should have, given our situation.

I could almost feel Gabby’s face heat up in the dark. There was a long, long awkward silence.

“I’m sorry…

“Shut the fuck up,” Gabby snapped back before I could go on.

Another long, long, awkward, awkward silence.

“I know what to do,” Gabby exhaled.

beetlejuice

Gabby and I shuffled along the walkway of the schoolyard, wrapped up in each other, our steps were very slow and stilted but we were making moves under the light of tall lamps that lit grounds since night had almost completely fallen. There appeared to be no one else in the yard at the moment, but we still wouldn’t break our bond in the least.

And we were right not to. Just as we reached the back exit that led to the marina, we saw the snake masks shining in the lamplight.

“Any of you makes even the slightest move on him, you are going to have to kill me,” Gabby screamed at the masked figures who maintained their distance as we staggered out of the grounds and towards the marina.

Gabby had told me that while the Sistene’s were ruthless in regards to those that broke their rules, they wouldn’t touch an innocent like her. She would be my hostage basically. We staggered together to the docks like some kind of bizarre two-legged race with our pursuers staring at us from the bluff above the beach.

Gabby ushered me over to a small ocean boat and led me on board with the judging eyes above still searing our skin. She pulled me over to the wheelhouse and muttered.

“Just drive this fucking thing to the mainland.”

A sense of ease and relief I hadn’t felt since I stepped onto the misty shores of Eden started to trickle into my blood like a slow stream of morphine from the point of a syringe. I leaned against Gabby in utter exhaustion and closed my eyes with the last thing I ever saw in Eden being the disappointed faces of those dark figures that had chased me from its dark shores.

beetlejuice

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Jack has written professionally as a journalist, fiction writer, and ghost writer. For more information, visit his website. Follow Jack on Twitter or read more articles from Jack on Thought Catalog.

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