Happy Friday! I hope you guys enjoy this surprise update. I thought it would be a nice way to kick off the weekend :)

As always, enjoy and let me know what you think!


11x.

From a distance, Isla Muerte is breathtaking.

Beth watches from the railing as they approach land. The island is lush and green; jungles roping wildly over cliffs and arches, aqua blue waters crashing against white sand and into dark caverns. There is a small docking station, enough for maybe two ships, and it gives way to soft, pure sand. There is a wide expanse of nothing behind the docks, except a manmade set of stairs that wind up the cliff and disappear into the thick jungle.

She shivers.

It's so very quiet. Too quiet.

The crew is almost silent as they quickly work. There is a tension in the air- a heavy feeling of uneasiness hanging over them as they labor. She knows that most of the crew will stay aboard the ship, but these men seem reluctant to even look at the island. Their heads stayed bowed down, their eyes fixed on the task at hand. Beth watches them for a second as the ship veers slightly, and she knows Abraham is preparing the ship to dock. She can almost feel them slow down, the helmsman manning the rudders enough to angle them inward. She watches as the other ships in the fleet continue their course; these ships carry different cargo of lesser value. They will meet up at a waypoint between here and Colombia. She's only spoken briefly to some of their crew; never without Daryl present.

Dale appears beside her now, his eyes watching the island.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

She nods her head. "Are you coming with us?" She's prepared now. Dressed in all black, Beth braided her hair out of her face and down to the side, and the knife Daryl gave her is firmly holstered on her belt. Dale shakes his head at looks at her almost sheepishly.

"Afraid not. I'll be here, overseeing some of the crew."

"I wish you were coming." She tells him. And she means it. There is something about this place that pricks at the skin on her neck. Despite the fact that she will be with Daryl, she can't help but think they would be safer if they showed up with the entire crew.

Dale smiles at her, his eyes crinkling. "Warms my heart, Beth. Unfortunately, the last time I stepped foot on that island it didn't go all too well." He stops and watches as they sail closer towards the docks. The waves offer some resistance now; they are much choppier and harsher the closer they get. "You'll be fine though. This is a quick stop. You've got Daryl with you, Glen, and Abraham. You'll be back in a couple of hours."

Beth doesn't answer him, she just watches as a few of the crew yell at each other. One man angrily tosses a box to the other, snapping at him. "We gotta hurry. I want to get back inside before we dock."

She turns to Dale and tries to smile. "I hope you're right."

Dale leans forward, his elbows resting on the railing. They are near the island now, and she can hear as it seems to come alive. It's like nothing she's heard before.

There are rough animalistic sounds- caws and squawks, some high pitched chirps and a few hisses. The ocean roars against the shore, mixing with the loud jungle sounds. She swears she can hear a faint murmur coming from somewhere, but she can't put her finger on where it's coming from. The sounds are almost overpowering.

Dale cocks his head to the side. "You hear that?" He asks her.

Beth nods. "What is it?"

Dale narrows his eyes. "This damn island. Cursed. Haunted. Jinxed. Whatever you want to call it. It's not a good place." He moves his shoulders, and she swears he just shivered. "It's home to a lot of death. Some say once you step foot on its sand, you never really leave this place."

She tries not to let his words spook her. She's already seen so much death in her life, that this chunk of land somehow anchored in the middle of nowhere should not scare her. The people on it, perhaps. But the actual land itself? No. She straightens her spine as Daryl appears beside her, flanked by Abraham, Glen, and to her surprise- Martinez and Shane. All four of them look serious, their eyes set dead ahead. Glen looks at her awkwardly, then averts his gaze. He's holding a small crate in his arms, the same red logo stamped on the side.

"You ready?" Daryl looks at her, and her heart beats in her throat.

The ship reaches its port. Her stomach knots up unexpectedly as a plank is lowered and the crew vanishes from the deck. One of the larger men finishes with the plank, nods to Daryl and abruptly heads towards the crew's quarters. She can him murmuring some sort of chant, prayer like, as he rushes past her.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

His words chill her to the bone, but she has no more time left.

She steps onto the plank.

Her descent down the wooden beam is over far too quickly. Dale's words churn in her mind as her boots step onto the sand, leaving behind a firm print. Daryl comes up beside her, taking her by the elbow and pulling her close. "Stay close to me. If you don't want to go, you don't have to. This won't take long, but I won't have any qualms 'bout you heading back and waiting for me upstairs."

Beth throws a glance back the ship. It looms in the near distance, looking massive and untouchable. It takes every ounce of her being to not run back there. She can do this. It's routine. She will do what she must to learn everything she can about this new life. She shakes her head and throws Daryl a small, unsure smile.

"I'm coming with you."

"Ok." He nods at her, releasing her arm. "Follow me." With that, she trails after him, surrounded by the other men. They head towards the wooden stairs, each one bent and some looking more rotted than others. They are silent as they make their way towards the top. The wind howls at them, each sharp piercing gust almost enough to knock her off balance. When they are about halfway to the top, she mistakenly looks down.

The white sand below gleams up at her, seemingly miles beneath them.

She takes a second to steady herself, suddenly dizzied by their position. Abraham steadies her arm and strides up next to her. "Don't look down. Only makes it worse." She nods wordlessly, and they continue to push upward. By the time they reach the top, her hands are shaking.

"Ok, listen up. We get in, get our shipment, and get out. Martinez and Shane, you guys pick up the supplies. It's supposed to be set aside, right out in front of one of the stores on the right side of the island. Pick it up, and head back to the ship. Abraham and Glen, you guys come with Beth and I. We'll talk with Joe real quick, and meet you back at the ship." Daryl glances up at the sky, and Beth realizes he's looking for the sun. "Almost noon. We wanna be outta here by no later than one. You each check in with Dale. We ain't leaving until everyone's back on the ship." Daryl's voice is low. The men each nod their understanding, and Beth hangs back for a second, glad Shane won't be coming with them. He hasn't said a word to her; he's only given her a mild glare and avoided her gaze since then.

"If you guys run into any problems, head back to the ship. We ain't here to start shit." The men nod again, and Beth gets the feeling none of them really want to be on this island.

"Everybody fully prepared? Armed?" Abraham's voice booms out, and Beth jumps. She tries to calm her nerves, feeling a tad bit ridiculous. It's just an island. In and out. They'll be back on the ship before she knows it. She reaches down and her hands close around her knife and for an instant, she feels a tiny bit better.

"Good. You guys need anything once you're back at the ship, fire three warning shots. We'll head back immediately." Abraham instructs them easily, and before she is ready- the group splits up. She follows Glen and Abraham, walking alongside Daryl.

None of them speak.

The island terrain is unlike anything she's ever seen. The trees are much larger than she would have expected, and the air is thick with humidity exceeding even the worst Georgia summer. The clouds swirl overhead, still threatening to spill rain on them at any moment. She follows obediently as they make their way down a worn dirt path. The jungle oppressively encroaches around the trail, and the noises intensify as they make their way down. It's not until they turn a corner that Beth stops in her tracks.

They are atop the highest part of the island. The view stuns her; from where she stands, she can make out nothing but the edges of the thick jungle, and a scattering of open fields with long wispy grass where small villages are set up. Huge peaks jut out here and there, and she is most certain you could fall to your death if you were to stand too close. The group presses on, leading her down a rocky hill, and eventually arriving at a makeshift gate in the fence surrounding the small village. Daryl gives it a heavy shove forward, and it creaks open.

She follows after him, the air seeming to still around them.

It's almost primeval here.

The houses closely resemble shacks, haphazardly built. They lean to the side, raw and rudimentary. Most of the windows are boarded up or covered with dark sheets, some are covered in rotten cardboard. They make their way through the village wordlessly. The whole place seems deserted, and Beth wonders how anyone could live on this island. They don't stop until they are in front of one of the larger buildings. It is slightly more elaborate, but not by much. They pause, and Daryl is the first one to walk up to it.

"Joe?" He calls out.

Abraham and Glen stay near Beth. She waits anxiously until a man opens the door and steps out. He's older, his hair and goatee mostly a whitish grey. He's dressed in a dark shirt, a tan vest over it and he strides over to Daryl and claps him on the back.

"Daryl! My boy. Always a pleasure to see you." He looks Daryl up and down, before grinning widely. "You look good man. You seem like you're doin' real well."

Daryl nods. "Thanks, man. Good to see you too. I'm doing alright. How you been?"

Joe shrugs noncommittally. "Oh you know. The life of an exporter is hardly glamorous. We're hanging in here. It's been pretty quiet lately."

"Seems quiet here." Daryl's words have meaning behind them, and Joe picks up on them.

"Everyone's out hunting. Hurricane season has been total shit here. It's been a rough week."

Daryl nods, and throws a glance back at them. Joe follows his look, and his eyes land squarely on Beth. "New crew member?" He raises an eyebrow at Daryl. "Didn't know you were takin on apprentices now…"

Beth's heart beats wildly.

Daryl only shakes his head. "She's mine, Joe. Let's get that outta the way right now."

Disappointment flashes across Joe's face, but only for a second. "Don't you worry your pretty head, Daryl. I ain't interested in takin anyone from you. I know it's lonely out at sea." He smirks at Beth, his eyes looking her up and down.

Uneasiness crawls up her spine, one vertebrae at a time. She tries to stay still, wishing she could step behind Abraham, but she holds her ground. Her hand tightens on her knife, and if Joe notices, he pretends not to.

"I wouldn't know." Daryl says dryly. "I gotta be outta here soon. Tryin' to make up some time from this damn storm."

Joe nods in agreement and takes a step back towards the door. "I won't keep you long. Come on in, and we'll get you back out there in no time. Everything is ready to go. I figured we could trade fair and square. I'll trade you six boxes of mine for six of yours. I think I'm on to something here." He pushes through the door, and Beth's stomach tightens.

Daryl nods at his crew, and they follow obediently except for Beth. She hesitates at the door, and Glen stops next to her. "You can wait out here if you want. This should just take a few minutes." She hesitates, and it's not until Daryl makes his way to her does she take a step towards the door.

"Stay put." Daryl's voice is a growl. His hand finds hers, his thumb brushing over her wrist. "I'll keep an eye on ya from the inside. Glen and Abraham can make the trade and then we'll leave." Next to him, Glen nods.

"Ok." Beth answers softly, wishing she could explain the feelings welling up in her. Something is off here. Even the air has an odd feeling, and she can feel it in her bones. Beth stays put, and watches as Daryl steps back inside but hovers near the doorway.

It seems like hours pass.

In reality, it can't be more than a few minutes before she hears it.

The murmuring. Then a soft, strangled cry coming from the surrounding jungle. It echoes in her ears, louder and louder. She watches as the trees sway slightly, and ruffle as though something is about to burst through them. Her pulse quickens as a group of men break through, roughly shoving someone in between them. Beth steps closer to the door, praying they won't see her. They don't notice her; they are too preoccupied with their victim. It's not until they are closer, heading to a small building on the opposite side of the path, that Beth realizes what they are doing.

The woman between them is infected, badly. Most of her skin is gone, and what is left is a slick grey coating that hangs in torn chunks on her muscle. Her eyes have gone yellow, and she claws at her face wildly. The noises coming from her mouth are guttural, almost inhuman. She stumbles, lurching awkwardly towards one of the men. He roughly shoves her back, and a piece of her skin slops to the ground.

Panic wells up in Beth's chest.

The men laugh at what is left of the woman, and one places a large piece of rope around her neck. He tightens it, admiring his makeshift noose. He throws the other end of the rope upwards, and Beth watches as it loops over a large beam. One of his friends lets out a whooping cheer, and tugs at the rope until it goes taut.

"Grab me a bucket, Billy!" The largest man yells out. A scrappy looking man appears with a large silver bucket. He places it on the ground, next to the woman's feet. She snarls at him, her teeth gnashing in a crazed manner. One of the men pushes her into it, and very quickly slices what's left of her throat open. The large man begins to pull at the rope, and Beth watches in horror as the woman is raised up, the black blood slopping down into the bucket. Her stomach lurches as the woman thrashes, still moving violently in midair. The men stand around, chatting idly now; as though this is just a normal routine day for them. When the black liquid tapers off to nothing, the bucket is moved, and the large man lowers the rope until the woman's feet graze the ground. Another man appears and stabs her cleanly through the temple.

A tall man appears, his face grim.

"You sure she's dead Dan?" He glances at the lifeless corpse, her body crumpled on the floor.

The man named Dan nods. "I'm sure. She ain't comin' back either. We'll throw her in with the rest tonight. You ok, Len? You look a little pale."

Len shakes his head, his gaze still on the body. "Just ain't so sure we ever gonna find a cure. Over half the island's infected now. Could be us soon."

Dan shakes his head violently. "No way man. We're close. Joe...ole Joe's almost found an antidote. We're gonna be rich as fuck when people are payin' out the ass for it."

Len doesn't look like he believes him. He toes the body, and makes a face at the bucket. "Guess I'm just tired of drainin em' and burnin' em. Just want to be done with it all."

Dan nods in agreement, but not before he takes a long look at the body on the floor. His hand has a slight splatter of red blood on it, and Beth can't help but wonder where it came from. The men say no more; they silently drag the body back towards the jungle without looking back.


She makes it a few feet before her breakfast comes back up.

She can't help it, even though she tries her best not to throw up. The image is burned in her mind; the men, the infected woman, the black blood dripping off the woman's dangling feet. She closes her eyes tightly, trying to think of anything else. Her stomach heaves again, and then finally stops. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and straightens herself up.

Her eyes meet Shane's.

He's glaring at her, his eyes filled with a thick hatred. His posture is tense; his body primed to attack. He watches her carefully, and she spits trying to rid her mouth of the terrible taste.

"You knocked up already?" His voice drips with disdain.

"I'm fine." Her voice shakes slightly, and she can't tell if it's because she was sick or because of Shane's presence. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Sure." Shane agrees, his eyes never leaving her. He takes a step closer to her, and she takes a step backwards. She tries to look back at the house, wishing someone would come out. They have to be close to being finished. Any second now. Shane seizes the opportunity to inch closer to her.

"Is this everything you thought it would be?" He's right in front of her now, like some sort of predator. His lips turn upward, a sick smile crossing his face. "Bet you didn't think you'd see such lovely scenery… and such welcoming places." She reaches back, and stumbles for a second.

"Go away Shane." She snarls at him. "I thought you'd be bored with this game by now."

He shakes his head, and opens his mouth to reply when they hear it.

His name.

Being screamed from the jungle.

Martinez.

"Shit!" Shane spits out, taking off into the dense foliage. As if her feet were not her own, Beth follows after him. She manages to keep up, the rocky terrain only slowing her down slightly. She's more nimble than Shane. He runs hurriedly, his gait awkward and uneven. He is at a disadvantage in this environment. They race further in, until Martinez's voice is right in front of them.

"Martinez! Where the fuck are you?" Shane screams, his breathing coming in pants now. "I can't see you." Beth listens until she hears a soft groan coming from a few feet ahead.

"Up there." She points, and Shane follows after her. They push through dark vines and twisted trees until they find themselves at the edge of another clearing. This one is large; the edge of it leading to a trail down a steep hill. They both come to a halt when they spy Martinez. He's in the middle of a group, doing his best to fight off the pack of infected bodies coming at him.

"Fuck." Shane swears. "Fucking fuck." He turns to Beth. "We gotta get out of here. We can't help him."

"No!" Beth hisses at him. "We aren't leaving him." She shoves Shane out of the way, and heads towards Martinez. He doesn't notice them; she can tell he's weakening as the bodies come at him endlessly. She can't even being to count them. They seem to ooze out of every inch of land; the whole clearing seems to undulate with their rotten bodies as they make their way towards him. It's as if they can sense the vitality of him; his healthy beating heart a beacon for them.

"Are you that stupid?" Shane screams at her. He rubs his hands over his head before sighing in exasperation. "Stupid bitch!" But he follows after her, making their way through the herd.

The stench is almost unbearable. The rotten skin makes her gag, but she swallows it back down. She pulls her knife from her hip, and does her best to mimic the men from earlier. She aims for the temple of the closest rotten body, and the blade goes in easily. The man drops to his knees, then eventually falls to the ground and stills. She swallows, yanking the blade out easily. She takes a step back, and aims for her second victim. Shane follows suit, watching her movements carefully. They are each able to clear four or five, and it's enough to give Martinez an opportunity to get away. He manages to break through, and he grabs at Beth's wrists and pulls her back away from the herd. "Thank you." He manages to wheeze at her. She nods quickly, and motions for Shane to follow. They make their way back towards the path, and only stop for a second so they can catch their breath.

"You bit?" Shane manages to gasp out. He's sweating, and he wipes uselessly at his brow. His eyes still hold a crazed look to them.

Martinez shakes his head before looking at Beth. "No. Thanks to Beth." He pauses, his voice shaking. "I'd be dead if you hadn't helped me."

Beth nods at him, trying to slow her breathing. It's hard; the air is thick enough to choke on. "I wasn't gonna leave you behind." She pauses, holstering her knife. "How'd you get stuck out here?"

Martinez shrugs. "Wandered off to pee. Wasn't expecting this whole damn place to be infected. Now I get the fence around Joe's area."

"We should head back." Beth tells him, and both men agree. They can hear the dragging of feet around them; the dull moans coming closer to them. They take off, and Beth follows behind them, exhaustion seeping into her bones. She can hear the groans coming from all sides of the jungle now, and she would bet good money that it's filled with the infected. She hurries after them, trying to stay close as they take a sharp turn and begin a steep incline. Her breathing hitches as she tries to push herself upwards.

As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…

The man's words pop into her head suddenly, and Beth stops in her tracks.

"We're going the wrong way."

Shane and Martinez turn to look at her. They both look confused.

"Joe's place is this way." Shane points in the direction they are heading. Beth shakes her head.

"We didn't come this way. This way is too steep." She doesn't remember this part. The climb is much more vertical than she remembers.

Martinez looks worried, but Shane just shoots her an evil look. "This is the right way." He snaps. He grabs her wrist roughly, and jerks her towards him. "We gotta go. Now. Unless you wanna be lunch for those rotters."

Beth jerks her hand free. "Do you have a gun? Fire three shots. We need help."

Shane rolls his eyes. "We don't need help. We just need to get the fuck out of this jungle and back on the fucking ship."

Martinez finally interrupts. "Maybe she's right. Maybe we are going the wrong way."

Shane looks close to exploding. "You got a gun? Because I don't. I lost that privilege after it was deemed that I was a threat to princess here."

Martinez groans, his hands frantically reaching for his belt. "I must have dropped it back there." Panic washes over Beth like ice water and Martinez turns to her. "You got a gun?"

"No."

"Well fuck. We're fucked." Martinez throws his arms up and Shane scowls at the both of them.

"Are you listening to me at all? This is the right way. Let's just keep moving." Shane snarls and begins heading in the same direction. "The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can get back to the ship." Martinez looks at Beth and shrugs, and she has no choice but to follow them. They walk in silence. The jungle hums around them; the occasional twitter or chirp ringing out as they pass through. The sun still sits high in the sky, partially obscured by darkening clouds. Beth's skin begins to feel like she's covered in a layer of grime. She swears she can hear water nearby, but she can't figure out if it's the ocean or not. It feels like they walk forever, until they break through a small clearing.

Her stomach twists when it doesn't look familiar. In fact, it looks nothing like anywhere she remembers being. Instead of the tiny village and the fence, all she sees is a field of grass and more trees. She tries to hold in the tired cry that sticks in her throat.

"We're lost." She says flatly. Shane's eyes flash at her again.

"We're not." He retorts.

Beth shakes her head, her throat aching for something to drink. "I'm gonna look for some water."

"Beth!" Martinez calls out but she ignores him. There is a burning in her throat now. Her head is starting to ache, the pressure tight across her forehead. She climbs through a thicket of trees, kicking branches and loose vines out of the way. She angrily kicks at the ground, her boots feeling as though they are made of lead. She manages a few more steps before she hears it.

The slightest sound of rushing water.

She freezes, and cocks her head to the side.

She can still hear it, and she almost weeps with relief when the stream pops into her vision. She walks quickly towards it, and falls to her knees in front of it. The water rushes by quickly, and she scoops up it up in her hands, drinking greedily. When she's had her fill, she collapses next to the stream, and tries to think of a plan. The water has to come from somewhere, and lead to somewhere. She makes a quick decision to follow it south for a bit.

Beth wipes her hands on her pants, and forces herself up. She follows the stream, acutely aware that she hasn't heard Martinez or Shane in a bit. She continues her descent, the terrain a little more tricky as the rocks become bulkier and the trees seems to become more tangled. Her heart bursts with relief when she realizes she's made her way to an opening, then plummets when she realizes the opening leads out to a large waterfall. The water rushes past her loudly, gurgling over rocks and swirling furiously until it flows over the edge. Beth slowly walks along until she's a few feet from the edge.

Beth glances down.

The water churns angrily at the bottom. She can make out a few clusters of rocks, and no sand bank. With a sigh, she scans from left to right, until her eyes settle on it.

The ship.

Large and massive, still docked and waiting. She almost cries out. She still doesn't know how long it will take her to get there, but now she knows where she needs to go. Beth turns, trying to steady herself and mentally prepare for the trek back through the jungle. She stops, listening hard for a second. Footsteps seem to come from all directions, and she silently prayers it's Martinez and Shane rather than a group of rotten bodies coming for her. She reaches for her knife and readies herself.

Shane bursts through the trees.

Relief washes over her, but only temporarily.

His mouth is set in a grim line, and he's coming right at her.

"Shane!" She shrieks, and he doesn't stop until he's right in front of her. She automatically takes a step back, realizing he's got his knife in his hand. Hot panic flashes through her when she realizes Martinez is nowhere to be found.

"You really are an idiot." He tells her. He raises the knife, making a slicing motion that barely misses her throat. "Running off through the fucking jungle all by yourself…"

"Shane... don't. Don't do this. You were right. It was the right way. And…there's the ship. I found the ship." Her words come out in a rush of panic, jumbling on top of each other. She waves her arm furiously in the direction of the ship. "Right there!"

His eyes catch sight of the ship, and something unreadable flashes across them. He takes a step closer to her, and her heart clenches.

"I'll tell him it was an accident. That his precious little wench was stupidly following the stream and just couldn't keep her balance. I won't tell him how I watched your little body fall down into the ocean below. How loudly you screamed. Or how your pretty neck snapped as it hit the water." His words are cold and menacing. Beth can't breathe now, and she feels dizzy. He's going to kill her. He's going to push her off the cliff and tell Daryl she fell.

"Please..." She pleads with him, her words cracking. "You're a better person than this!"

Shane shakes his head, a malicious laugh on his lips. "I'm actually not." His hands push against her chest with a sudden force. She stumbles back for a second, her knees hitting the ground with a sharp jolt, and she manages to regain her balance on the very edge of the cliff.

"Martinez went down just as easily. Turns out he's definitely more skilled at cooking than he is at fighting." Shane snarls at her.

"Oh god, No! Shane! Please!" She tries to plant her feet, frantically reaching for anything to hold onto. There is nothing. He looms over her, and when she's back up on her feet, he shoves her one final time.

For a second, the sickening feeling of falling is overwhelming.

Her stomach drops repeatedly, and her arms and legs flail helplessly. She is vaguely aware of the roar of the waterfall, and she tries to awkwardly pull her limbs into herself. It feels like minutes rather than mere seconds pass before she hits the water, plunging deep down.

It hurts, the sudden smack of water against her feels like a thousand stab wounds. It fills her lungs; pressing down on her arms and legs, effectively trapping her underneath the rough agitation of the waterfall. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of her mind, she realizes she needs to get out from underneath it, and get to the surface. Her lungs burn with exertion, and her arms refuse to move.

"This is it." She thinks dreamily. "This is how I will die."

Not at the hands of some deadly virus, not on the farm- after years of a monotonous lifetime of sameness, not in bed, old aged and content with Daryl, but today, trapped beneath the inky blue ocean.

Her vision begins to blur, the pressure of the sea closing in on her. It pulls her down further, and despite the burn in her lungs, she feels pleasantly calm. She stops struggling now, and gives in. A soft warmth surrounds her, like a cozy blanket on a cold winter's night. It pulls a little harder now, and something sparks in Beth's mind.

It no longer feels good or right.

It feels like a sharp bone grasping at her ankle, pulling her down into the black water.