Author's Note: To all Choices/Endless Summer fans (and absolutely newcomers), hello! This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction, but this book will only be 'fan fiction' to a certain extent. I'd call it a novelization. The story follows the same overarching narrative as it does in the game, except it is now written in book format. Character thoughts are expanded upon, more believable backstories are given, loopholes are eliminated, and fun little tidbits I thought would give more life to the world and character were also included, as well as some dialogue changes.

In this story, the main character's name is Maxine Cohen, an outdoorsy type with a love for marine life, who is not yet too confident in her people skills but makes do with what she has. Initially, she doesn't come off as the natural leader type, instead favoring to hand that role over to others. But she slowly grows into the role over the course of the books. You know, the one that ties the group together? Yes.

The route I am taking here is Jake, so do not get discouraged when you find them bickering at first, and Max immediately crushing on Sean! It's to add more believability to the story. I find that conflict bonds characters more than they know, so their relationship starts out a bit rocky, but it's a slow-burn that'll be worth the wait, I promise!

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this, so please don't be shy to leave a review!

With further ado, enjoy!

Act I, Chapter One:

This Must Be Heaven

Trees with strange flora and fungi enveloped us. Bits of sunlight peeked through cracks of a densely populated jungle and voices, panicked and desperate, rang in my ears. I sank to my knees into the shrubbery, but I didn't know why. "Stay down. It's coming this way," a voice hissed. I turned to see it come from a man with a scruffy nine o'clock shadow hunched beside me. He was a stranger, yet looked strangely familiar in a way I couldn't put my finger on. But not a moment later, the jungle vanished.

"Max, give me your hand!" called out another voice, now coming from another guy closer my age. He donned a white and blue polo shirt, his skin a warm brown and his face curiously distorted by fear, similar to the man with the beard. He had his hand outstretched towards me, when I noticed the change in my surroundings.

The jungle had given way to a monotone concrete building, which looked to be a warehouse of some sort. Max.. Was that me? Right. I felt myself instinctively reaching out to him.

When the warehouse faded, I instead felt an unpleasant warmth brush against my face. "You don't understand, do you?'' came a third voice. This time, it was an older gentleman that addressed me. He was attired in a brown suit and clutching its collar condescendingly, pacing around the edge of what seemed to be molten lava, its red hue illuminating the night air. It sputtered and boiled malevolently, but the man seemed to ignore its presence entirely.

"No, how could you? But just give it time.." he smiled, although it was clear his intent was malicious as it dripped with latent disdain.

The plane shuddered and abruptly jolted me awake. I sat a moment in the company of white noise while the remnants of the dream ebbed away, like my senses needed time to adjust. My eyelids narrowed to slits as they grew accustomed to the bright beams of light that shone through the windows of the aircraft.

From my seat, I watched an infinite sheet of dark blue expand endlessly. It was the ocean, unmoving as it has always been. It looked like a picturesque photo, one you set as your computer wallpaper. I exhaled a breath of awe.

From the seat beside me, I watched the corners of Diego's lips lift into a dopey smile.

"Morning there," he said, a slight grin crossing his face as I struggled to regain my wits.

I blinked wearily, my chest rising with a deep inhale.

"I'm not still dreaming, am I?"

"Can't believe it either, huh? But we're finally on our way! Let us make this the adventure that'll stay with us forever."

The small plane brimmed with the chatter of the lucky ten. All students from Hartfeld University, home to the brightest and most promising— or so they liked to advertise. We were winners of a lottery of which the prize was a week in paradise at a luxurious resort on an island in the middle of the Caribbean. A good chunk of eager Hartfeld undergraduates entered, and miraculously, both Diego and I were picked from the lot. I barely spared the others time to chit-chat at the airport, unlike Diego. Out of all the students, I only knew Raj, who, despite my standoffish debut, offered to help me lift some of my bags into the overhead compartment just before leaving. There was also Craig Hsiao, one of our college football players.

My ears twitched when a voice piped up to my right. It was a girl with brilliant ginger hair, gushing about the tropical island to the friend beside her. She exuded a certain enthusiasm that seemed to come naturally to her. Long hair cascaded down her back, with portion slung over her shoulder and looping comically as if it had just been curled by a curling iron. She had her white button-up shirt knotted together at her waist and her cheeks, in contrast to her otherwise pale skin, were red with child-like excitement.

"All expenses paid! Hell, that can't get any better, can it?" I heard Craig shout from a few rows ahead, loud enough for the whole plane to hear. I could spot his hair, spiked upwards through the use of far too much gel, peeking out above the seats. Craig was notorious for proudly wearing a dull orange and white varsity jacket which proudly displayed a large 'H' for Hartfeld, which I guessed he must either never wash, or have about five pairs of.

"Yup. Student debt got me so bad I can barely afford me instant ramen," replied Raj with his characteristically infectious grin. He was a gentle giant with a paunchy structure, curly black hair, and kind, round eyes that briefly flashed with recognition when he met my own in passing.

I sensed Diego nudging my side. "Hey, Max? You zoned out there. Bad dream?" I snapped back to reality.

"Not bad, just really weird," I quickly replied, rubbing at my temples to massage a growing headache away. "It was this strange jungle where I saw these people, right—"

I noticed I lost Diego's attention a moment as he peered over the back of our seats. "Oh, sorry, little commotion, I think." An argument, I guessed, following his gaze.

"So, what were you saying, M—"

My eyes caught a familiar face just then, forcing me wide awake. "..That's him!"

I recognized the guy getting up from his seat and meandering up the aisle. It was one of the people I had seen in my dream, with rugged, handsome features and a robust build. He donned the same polo T-shirt as he did in the warehouse, which was odd, since I don't think I'd ever met him before. His eyes wrinkled whenever he smiled, which seemed to be most of the time. A blush inadvertently crept up my cheeks. He was criminally attractive, despite the glaring dark circles beneath his eyes and uneven dimples flanking his grin.

"Sean Gayle? Expensive taste. Well, can't let the future love of your life slip through your fingers, can you?" Diego said, and without warning, drove me out my seat and into the aisle, right as Sean Gayle cruised by.

"Oh, my bad!" he apologized when I collided with him, to which I blinked stupidly and threw Diego a frustrated, desperate look. "She has something to say," he said, just as he discreetly fished out his brand new camcorder.

By then, a wave of self-consciousness had wafted over me. I suddenly became hyper-aware of my appearance. I stood dull in a plain red tank top that was stained maroon with sweat, a cheap gold necklace hanging from my neck that Diego got me from a drugstore, and thighs chafed red from the denim shorts that stuck to my legs from the heat.

Before I had the chance to pass off Diego's comment, I threw out the first thing that came to me.

"I just dreamed about you."

"Oh, really? Must've been a good sleep you had, then." Sean's smile lingered, which put my nerves at ease.

"Well, it was slightly terrifying, actually." Sean raised a brow at that, which begged for an explanation. "But not because of you!"

"Don't worry. I won't take offense," he offered me a rictus grin as he slipped past.

I slumped into my seat with furrowed brows, defeated. Diego lowered the camera. "Oh man, got all that on video. You've gotta see the look on your face just now."

"Please tell me you won't post that anywhere," I replied, sinking further into my seat.

Diego even cluttered his phone's gallery with pictures of us. I vividly remember the exact moment he snapped a silly one where I'd just stuffed some day-old spaghetti into my face after a long night of food poisoning.

"Of course not. I'm not a psychopath," Diego rolled his eyes as he tucked away the camcorder in favor of his phone before landing his attention on the time. "Huh.." Diego peered down at his phone, puzzled. "5:15 PM already? But we should have landed an hour ago.. and you weren't snoring that long," he commented to himself.

"I'll go check in with the pilot. Wait here," I told him, and stood once more, making my way up the aisle. I passed by the other students, who were all chirping happily without a care in the world, and caught snippets of their conversations.

"Excuse me, but please tone down your obnoxious babbling for once!" I noticed the pale guy leveling himself against his chair as I passed by. "The guide is trying to speak!"

He was lanky of stature and had platinum blonde, slicked-back hair, and thin features that were drawn into a slight frown. He appeared to be losing the battle of trying to conceal the growing irritation. With that snobbish attitude, I found it easy to dislike him. His clothes, attitude, and haughty accent practically screamed spoiled.

I considered myself a hard worker. The type to turn down midnight trips to McDonald's with Diego and his roommates to study for exams instead. I got in on merit. It was never handed to me, so I'd be lying if I said I didn't judge people like Aleister.

"Ah, thank you, Aleister!" Lila said, the jovial tour guide sent by Rourke International and one you can't reasonably accuse of not being dedicated to her job. She carried a joyful air about her, but differently than the redheaded girl did. I stopped to listen.

"As your tour guide for the week, I just want to say we should all try to get along! We are, after all, stuck on an island together, beautiful as it may be!" Lila clasped her hands together with a resounding clap and grinned. Passing us each a glance, she had set both hands on her hips after a quick straightening of her bright yellow Rourke International polo shirt, on which a blue whirlpool symbol was neatly embroidered. "..And I would hate for us to not enjoy ourselves!"

"Where's the emergency hatch? I'm this close taking an early exit out of here," I heard another girl mumble, who then turned her head to the side and adopted a disinterested gaze as she stared out into the nearby window.

The side of her head and styled into a neat, purple-streaked undercut. She sported a pierced left ear and eyebrow, which very much complemented the frown she wore. I saw her tug the collar of her black jacket up to her neck when Lila buzzed on.

By then, I reached the end of the aisle and parted the curtain that divided the plane and cockpit, where its pilot had his combat boots nonchalantly kicked up on the dashboard, dangerously close to some important-looking circuitry I didn't dare touch.

"Er— Excuse me," but there was no response. I strained to recall what name the pilot went by. "It's Jake, right? When are we landing?"

My heart leaped with restrained panic churning in my stomach as I realized his eyes were closed and the man was comfortably propped in his seat, the interlaced fingers supporting the back of his head.

"Hey!" I raised my voice, and Jake roused with a startle.

"Hrn?!" He said dumbly, dazed. He soon angled his torso towards me, cerulean eyes piercing me with a stern gaze. Instantly, I recognized him, from that same bizarre dream.

'Stay.. down. It's coming this way..'

Wild manes of shaggy light brown hair shadowed parts of Jake's face. His jaw was generously peppered with a scruffy nine o'clock shadow. The familiar green bomber jacket with the pair of dog tags dangling lazily from his neck looked almost like a perfect replica of the one I dreamed of.

"Didn't they teach ya manners, Princess? And that it's incredibly rude t'wake someone who's takin' a nap?" Jake drawled in the same southern accent as I remembered from the dream, though now, it was oozing with irritation.

I blinked indignantly. "Princess?" But before I could protest, he cut me off with a click of his tongue and raised his green jacket-clad shoulders into a shrug.

"Only the ones that really get under my skin get nicknames, y'should feel honored," he drew a scoff.

"And maybe you should keep your ego in check, Aragorn.."

"'Aragorn'?" A brow rose high into his forehead. "..I don't know what you mean."

"Really? Lord of the Rings? Best trilogy ever made?"

He shook his head, "That a show you lot watch? Pfh," he huffed, before giving me a sideways glance with his brow still elevated, "Fine. Call me 'Aragorn'. Joke's on you, the man's a badass.''

"But you said—"

"But you're gullible. You college kids believe everything anyone says. It'll get ya killed. 'Course I know Lord of the Rings." The pilot heaved a deep sigh, gluing his eyes to the instrument panel, which I doubted he really cared to check.

"I'm not just a 'college kid'."

"That's what a college kid would say. Anyway, calm. We ain't landin' 'til.." The pilot abruptly fixed his posture with a jar, the controls now holding his full attention. I spotted his eyes swelling with dawning realization. "The fuck?" His fingers sought controls to adjust, his brows knitted together. "The time ain't right. Neither is that, or that," he said, unsettlingly alarmed. His southern accent sprung out even more. Jake gave the panel a bash of his fist a few times, reminding me of the times my father did the same with our malfunctioning early 2000s computer.

"What's happening? What's not right?"

Unease settled in my chest, but Jake only scoffed. "Shut up for a moment and' let me think. Look, you wouldn't be askin' if you knew even the damndest thing about flyin' a plane. There ain't nothin'—''

A rumble cut through his speech when turbulence hammered at the plane in jolts. I barely caught myself clutching onto the curtain behind me until my body lurched into the wall of the cockpit. "Aah!" I croaked in chorus with Jake, who'd almost tumbled off his chair.

I scrambled back to my feet; the pilot curling his grip around the yoke and attempting to stabilize the plane. "Fuck! That stormfront's closin' in on us. Get in a seat, hear? And tell everyone out there to buckle up!"

"I—" I couldn't speak. The jolting had caught me off guard, and now I stood fixed in place like I hadn't heard him.

"Now, Princess!"

Jake yanked me out of my daze. I threw one last glance at the sky, whose color had shifted from a comforting blue to a sickening gray in a matter of minutes. Dark clouds loomed over us and violent gusts of wind rocked the aircraft from side to side like a ragdoll. Loud clamor had erupted from the passengers' side of the plane, to which I whirled around to pace back to my seat. It was a sudden aggressive wave that then swept me clean off my feet, and flung me onto the floor of the aisle with a painful thud. My forearms scraped along the carpet.

"Oh crap, oh crap, I think that—!" I heard Raj cry over the hysteria, throwing a hand over his mouth and making a disturbing gagging noise.

"Don't puke, bro! If you puke, I'm gonna puke!" Craig yelled in reply with his head turned away as held onto his armrest for dear life.

"The hell did this storm come from? It was a clear fucking day!" A girl in a pink blouse shouted angrily, but a tremor in her voice told me that she, too, was scared.

"This stuff happens all the time, okay!" The pilot called out.

"Yeah, sure! Doubt that happens all the time!" I got to my feet and followed the gaze of the girl with the undercut out the window where orange balls of lightning coalesced out of the sky in streaks of electricity, leaving behind blaring thundering in its wake.

Lila caught my attention, "Max! Please find a seat! All of you, please keep calm!" My eyes found Diego further down the aisle but instead opted for the seat next to Sean's with a labored huff just as the plane lurched violently. Sean raised an amused brow.

"Lightning? But.." began a girl with puffy chocolate-colored hair that reached her shoulders in curls. "I've never seen anything like this!" she squeaked. Her square glasses sat shakily atop the bridge of her nose. The turbulence clouded her features with fright, an expression found aplenty in the chaos that ensued among the passengers.

"No, no! I can't die being surrounded by morons like them!" Aleister began to plead with himself or with whatever gods he believed found him unworthy enough to die in a more dignified manner. But all he got were some nasty looks from the students that still paid attention to anything besides themselves.

"Oh god, oh god.." The redheaded girl hyperventilated in hefty inhales that she barely held more than a millisecond. Her knuckles were dewed white from clutching onto her chair so tightly when another blistering crack of thunder deafened us. The plane shuddered not quite as it should.

"Aw, shit. Engine's down. Hang on, everybody, I'm bringin' her down manually!"

But the pilot's attempt at calming the crowd only resulted in even more frantic cries of panic. College students were apparently not likely to know that a malfunctioning engine wouldn't mean it could only end in a plane crash, and I was guilty of it myself. Still, I noticed someone sitting so chillingly still, it was as if she were afraid the world would crumble before her. She tugged at the collar of her blue hoodie and pressed herself against the back of her seat. Her brown hair was pulled back tight into a ponytail, and when our eyes met, I could spot a vertical scar lining her right eye.

"Better buckle up for this," Sean commented light-heartedly in an attempt to keep a shred of normalcy. I straightened my back against the chair and went to search for the seat belt.

"I'm trying— I can't find the other side of the belt!" Sean gingerly reached across my lap and held up the strap, which I failed to see in my haste to careen into an airplane seat. I muttered a quick thanks, too unnerved to properly settle in.

"Are you always this calm?" I kept my gaze stubbornly honed in the seat before me. My heart thumped painfully against my ribs.

"Not sure what you'd call it, but it's a certain sense of knowing it'll turn out fine, you know?" he said.

I chuckled nervously. "Isn't that just practicing arrogance in the face of death— or worse?"

"Woah there. We won't be dying today. But to answer you, it's more like faith. Isn't too hard to keep a level headed attitude with enough practice," Sean paused for a moment as the plane rocked about dangerously. "What was your name?" he continued. "It's Max. Hi." I said quickly, ending on a stupidly high pitch out of nerves.

"We're almost out! Hang tight!" shouted a voice from the cockpit. And true to his word, a few minutes later, the plane burst out of the eye of the storm, as if it had never been there in the first place. A collective weight was lifted off our shoulders and clamors died down to make way for friendly chatter, and in Raj's case, a roaring cheer to celebrate.

"Wow, Max. Take a look at this view." Sean prodded at the window beside him.

"Get a good look now, 'cause we're comin' in fast!" Jake said from his seat. "Welcome to La Huerta."

The plane descended towards our destination. Emerging from the sprawling ocean came a mountainous green speck of land, the jagged form of a volcano rising high above its surrounding rainforest and reaching proudly into the baby blue sky. It breathed a column of white smoke. Waves tickled at the sandy shores that separated thick jungle canopies from the sea.

"La Huerta Tower," Jake began in an uncharacteristically professional tone, which made me lean into the aisle, my ears tingling with piqued curiosity. I saw him tug the mic of his headset to contact the control tower closer to his lips. His accent faded the slightest bit, "This is tail number XC-DMK, requesting emergency priority to land!"

A short moment of silence followed. "Carlos!" Jake dropped the courtesy. "Pick up, you lazy bastard. It's Jake!"

But nothing. "Ignorin' me won't make me forget the hundred bucks ya owe me. Like it or not, we're comin' in!" Jake snarled a bit irately into the mic.

After another five minutes, the plane landed with a jostle on a dirt-laden airstrip. I clicked out of my seatbelt and made my way down the stairs after snatching one of my bags out the overhead compartment.

"Christ," I stretched out my arms and inhaled the humid, warm air. Tropical sunshine hit my skin in pleasant ripples. "I've never been so glad to be alive," I turned to Jake, who meandered down after me. "Better not be working for tips, Aragorn. Don't think passengers tip for bumpy landings, you see."

Jake scoffed. "You kidding? I'm a damn hero for even gettin' you on the ground!" He went to unlock the plane's cargo bay before pressing a hand to his headset, resuming his quest to get ahold of one Carlos.

"Carlos, I need a tune-up! ..Carlos!" As Jake marched off, the rest of my classmates brought their luggage out from the plane's cargo compartment.

"Oh, this must be heaven! I read that this island is one of the most beautiful places on earth! Oh, the beaches, the waterfalls.. I can't wait!" The ginger girl squealed in delight.

"Not just that, Quinn," called the girl with glasses. "It's also home to a plethora of rare flora and fauna!" She pressed her fingers together, moving to politely wait in line to get her luggage.

"She better not ruin my vacation with her dumb facts 101.." grumbled Craig as he yanked his own luggage out.

Just as I reached for my suitcase handle, Sean's fingers brushed against my hand, which he rapidly retracted. "Oh, sorry!"

"No, no, go and carry my bag if you want."

"Oh my god," another voice piped in. It was the pink bloused girl with heavy makeup caked onto her features, but looking stunning regardless. One could have easily mistaken her for a model. Blonde hair with darkened roots fell down her shoulders in layers and her eyes narrowed into slits, pointed at me like needles. "Could you be any more desperate?"

She'd slung her arms around Sean, who shifted a bit.

"Why do people like you hover around the spotlight like moths? Nothing better to do? God, I grow tired of it."

After a moment of eyeing me with silence as her only reply, she gave a sharp exhale through her nose. "Yeah, uh-huh. See, you're not the first to pine after Sean, so don't be too flattered," the girl remarked at my unconvinced expression as she scanned me from head to toe with squinted eyes.

"Nah, seriously? Sean Gayle? Our star quarterback?" Craig chimed in, looking slightly offended. "..The Heisman forerunner?" But I only shrugged.

"It's fine, you guys—" Sean began, but the insufferable droning of his girlfriend soon drowned him out.

"Look, Sean doesn't need any fame hounds hanging around him, got it?" She added with a dismissive wave of her hand, already growing tired of my presence. Irritation began to bubble in my stomach. I gnawed hard on my lip, hoping to bite away any bitter comments. Instead, I opted for the next best thing on my mind.

"Wow," I said, a hint of exasperation notable when I spoke as I hid my true feelings behind a polite yet sinister smile. "You're really pretty. You must be his girlfriend, right?" I couldn't hide the slight sign of disappointment in my tone, but the girl didn't seem to pick up on it.

Her mouth dropped open and before she left me a chance to add anything, she stammered. "I..— You— Well, yeah! You're right on both counts!"

"Michelle, keep it real. We're not together anymore, and I'm tired of having to keep telling you this," Sean hissed and pried himself off her, which prompted an argument between the two I was sure was a regular occurrence and had little desire to watch unfold.

I pivoted around to seek Diego until a shrill clink brought my attention to whatever my shoe connected with.

I sunk to my knees to scoop an object off the ground and inspected it. Initially, it looked like a plug that had sprung from a plane, but after probing at it more, it made my head tilt. It resembled a dart with a long, metal needle and a red plume protruding from its end like a peacock.

"Is that.. a tranquilizer dart?" Diego paced over, his eyes honing in on the projectile I twirled in my fingers. "Let me see?" He reached a hand out to me, and I dropped the creepy thing in his palm.

"The vial's nearly empty. I guess it hit its target," he said, and an involuntary shudder struck me.

"Seems like a big dose, too. Whatever animal they took down must've been big as well."

"You mean, if they took it down."

"Hey, stop that!" I swatted him on the arm as a shudder quivered down my spine. He still had that impish smile planted on his lips. Diego took out the camcorder. The type you loop your hand through and record via a flip screen. Very old school, very Diego. He recently picked up a love for recording memorable moments and hadn't let go of the camera since. 'A smartphone won't do?' was the first thing I thought back then. But, I guess this was just one of the memorable moments he was looking for. He added no commentary besides our usual chatter, it really was just to capture the moment.

"It must have been poachers of some kind," I said as I swept my eyes over the forest. I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. "The island does have some pretty exotic wildlife."

I then met the figure hovering a bit too close for comfort, peering at the girl in the ponytail that sat so serenely in her airplane seat before.

Was she listening in?

"Diego.. who's that girl?"

"Dunno," he shrugged after throwing a quick glance over his shoulder. "Student from Hartfeld."

I pondered, an eerie feeling settling in my stomach. "Well, yes, but there's something.. off about her."

"What do you mean?"

I craned my head around, doing a mental headcount of the passengers. Me, Diego, Sean, Michelle, Craig, Quinn, Raj, Aleister, the girl with the glasses and the girl that didn't really want to be here.. and then the mysterious girl with the scar.

My voice dropped to a whisper. "I think there's too many of us here."

"Too many? But—"

"No, think about it. Not including our pilot and guide.. Well, there were ten contest winners, right? But count us off.."

Diego finished for me, "She makes eleven."

"Right. And I don't think I've ever seen her before. Who is she?"

As inconspicuous as I could manage, I glimpsed at her. And right then, she stared back. Her gaze caught me firm as a vise. I tried to wrestle away, but I stood frozen. It was like a trance, and she pulled me into an abyss that made me realize that the eyes really were windows to the soul.

"Hey, Lila!" It was the pilot, who coincidentally then ripped my attention out of the strange stupor. His forehead was slick with droplets of sweat and his hair was glistening in the sun. "Where the hell is everyone?! There's nobody here!"

Now that I thought of it, we were the only souls at the airstrip. No personnel had come to fetch us yet.

"..Aha, you see—" Lila chuckled with a bit of uncertainty, which then beckoned a forced smile. "They.. will be here soon to escort us up to the main resort, yes! Yes, it's likely just a slight delay! No need to worry, all, they should be here any minute now.''

"Nah, screw that. I'm goin' up to the control tower for some answers," Jake said. I shifted uncomfortably.

"What's going on here?"

"Dunno," he shrugged. "Call it a gut feelin', but it ain't good. You comin', Princess?"

"Um, okay!" Lila clapped to draw the group's attention. "The rest of you, please follow me! We will hike up the hill to the resort. Let's make a fun outing out of it, yes? Yay!" But her face fell upon spotting Quinn, who had popped off the buttons of her blouse, under which she conveniently wore her bikini. She happily skipped past Lila. Raj, Craig, and Michelle followed suit, chattering among themselves.

"Some of us are gonna explore the beach a little first! We'll meet you guys at the hotel soon!"

Lila nodded before beginning her impressively rehearsed speech to the group that trailed after her to the hotel. My ears caught only a snippet, but enough to leave a good impression.

"The Celestial Hotel and Resort, the jewel of the Caribbean, boasts 25 stories and 1,200 suites of the finest tropical accommodations you can imagine! Built on the island of La Huerta, which means 'The Garden,' the Celestial ranked in Travel and Leisure's top ten global hotels last year! And so.." Lila buzzed on, and she lost my attention.

I trotted after Jake. "Hey, wait up!" He was already advancing towards the control tower at the end of the airstrip, mic pressed close to his mouth. "Carlos! Where the hell are you, man?"

"So, it's fine if I join? I might be able to help."

Jake rose a brow with a slight shift of his head. "Ain't gotta ask permission, do you? I invited you. Safe to say you're the least annoyin' company I got at the moment," he said as he slipped off the headset and burrowed both hands into his pockets. "Come on."

We scaled up the rickety, rusty stairs at the tower, which gave a screech with every foot we placed. My eyes fell on the lush rainforest that pompously stretched out throughout the island, unapologetically beautiful. "This is gorgeous.. Do you visit the island often?"

"Yeah, and just about every other privately owned resort island in the Caribbean. Favorite vacation spot of the privileged and their spoiled brats. Ones that ain't worked a day in their life. I'm just here for the money." Despite the clear disdain for the people he flew around, something told me he wasn't referring to us.

"You don't sound like you like it very much, regardless." My hand brushed over the corroding handrails as we ascended, careful not to get caught on the rust.

"Hey, pays the bar tab." The smile that flickered on his lips vanished as soon as it appeared.

"So, Jake," I clasped my hands behind my back, "What got you into this business?"

"What gets anyone into anything? I had a plane, a pilot's license, a dishonorable discharge, and an empty bank account," he then stopped. "Hey, this Twenty Questions or somethin'? Stop that," he snapped, whipping around to face me.

"..Sorry." I fell silent after that, but it took only a moment before he continued on his own.

"..Look. I'm from Louisiana, and if the price to never set foot back there again is playin' uber driver to some rich jerks a couple times a week, hell, I'll pay it."

"And the dishonorable discharge?"

"Was in the navy. Fighter pilot," he said, begrudgingly giving in. "Damn good one at that, too."

"What happened?"

"Punched my commanding officer square in the jaw."

I thought a moment. "..He must've deserved it, then?"

"..Yeah. That he did," he grinned to himself. "Been ferrying rich folks around the Caribbean and sleepin' in a beach hammock in Costa Rica ever since."

I let another brief silence hang, contemplating. "Sounds lonely."

"Well, yeah, that's the appeal, Princess."

"I mean— I get wanting some alone time and getting away from the hustle and bustle of the world, but only for a little while. Don't you want something more than that? Like, someone to come home to, someone that listens to you, comfort you when you're sad or upset? You know, another human being?"

Jake's lips formed a lopsided smirk, peering over his shoulder. "You offerin', Princess?"

"What? No—I just meant in theory. Wow. You're a real jerk, you know?"

"Live and breathe the stereotype," Jake shrugged. "In theory, I wanted to be the best pilot the Navy had ever seen. In practice.. well, y'can't beat a cold beer, kickin' up your feet and watchin' the Caribbean sunset in silence.''

We'd paused on the steps several times as we chatted, which made the walk feel endless. I had a feeling both of us were subconsciously stalling for time, not at all eager to face Jake's foreboding gut feeling.

As we continued to climb the stairs, a step creaked dangerously. "Oh—"

But before I had a chance to react, the metal gave way under my weight and I sensed gravity pull me down. My arms flailed around helplessly, until a sweaty hand expertly curled around my wrist, tugged me forward and yanked me away. "Christ, kid. Can it get any more cliché?" Jake promptly let go and continued on.

I saw rusted fragments of the step twirling elegantly about fifty feet to the ground. I noticed a soft pain in my ankle. No doubt that that would leave a bruise.

"..Jesus. I think you saved my life."

"Are you tryin' to make this cliché? You just owe me one. C'mon."

Jake pushed the door to the control tower open, ready to give poor Carlos a piece of his mind. "Carlos, you dumb—," he began but paused. "Hey, what the?" I then wormed myself past Jake, who stood still at the entrance, eager to see what silenced him.

"..There's no one here," I breathed. Desks with controls as confusing as the plane's lined the windows. It was dark and deserted, and the silence that met us felt heavy.

"Thanks, Eagle Eyes. Couldn't tell."

I paced over to one of many desks. I trailed an index finger over it, which turned up a load of dust. "Are you sure they still use this airstrip?" I looked at him.

"Of course I'm sure. I was just here, a few days ago. An' I'm damn sure.."

But he stopped, enraptured by something just past my shoulder. I followed his gaze towards the window. My jaw fell open.

Just in the distance, the island itself pulsed with eerie red and blue lights. The colors fluttered over trees and covered them like a blanket, tinting the atmosphere in a rippling aurora. I was at a loss for words. It was like a dream, but my body grew rigid with fear. This wasn't normal. "Wha.."

On instinct, and as if magnetically drawn to the phenomenon, I drifted closer, at the same time captivated by the beautiful colors. I placed my palm on the glass and let it hang there for a moment.

"What.. is that?" I rubbed at my eyes. And just like that, it was gone. "What? Jake, did you see—"

But Jake only blinked, still dazed. "Jake!"

He snapped out of it, throwing me a lingering side glance as if I was just as strange as the aurora. He coughed.

"Huh? Oh.. Must'a been something weird with the glass here. Don't know, don't care much, neither. C'mon. Nothing else t'see here."

He strode out, and I trailed after him after giving the glass one last look, silently hoping it'd return.

..But everything appeared as it should.

Jake and I gradually wound our way up the paved road, silence lingering between us and only the rolling of my suitcase keeping us company. Fatigue gripped me just as we turned around the bend.

A grand building greeted us. It stood proudly in the sun, at least 20 stories high. Expertly built with an elegant design and a long, ornamented overhang of white marble stretched out towards us. 'The Celestial' and its accompanying whirlpool symbol told us we were at the right place.

"So this is it, huh? Fifty times to this island and never been off the airstrip."

"The Celestial!" I grinned broadly.

"Well, c'mon, then. You paid me to bring y'all here, so that's what I'm doin'."

"So you've never actually stayed here? Are you taking off after this, or are you gonna stick around a bit, Grumpy?"

"Just need Carlos to get the plane refueled, and I'm off. I'm sure the bastard is loungin' around the Celestial, anyways. But, I got a bottle of Anejo callin' my name back in Costa Rica,"

Jake glanced at me, giving me a nod. "Try not to miss me too much, ey?"

The automatic doors slid open, and we entered the lobby which welcomed us with a wave of crisp air conditioning. But my body went cold for another reason.

"What the—," I heard Jake gasp beside me.

The silence is deafening. The front desks stood deserted. Suitcases and carts were scattered, unattended. On a table, a half-finished glass of wine was gathering dust. The rest of the group stood before us, equally bewildered.

Beyond them, the entire hotel was devoid of life.