James Rodriguez

This island is strange, James.

She kept her voice neutral, factual.

I've worked coastal research for seven years.

Never seen a shore ecosystem so sterile.

No tide pools, no crabs, no gulls.

Document everything I said.

We'll compare observations in the morning.

She nodded and disappeared into her tent.

I returned to my post, logging her report in the field notebook with exact time and coordinates at 341.

The first sound came from the jungle.

Not voices.

Exactly.

Something between a whisper and wind through leaves.

Except there was no wind.

it lasted twelve seconds i marked it in the log at three hundred and fifty-three it happened again longer this time twenty-six seconds different direction coming from the northwest like multiple whispers layered over each other

creating a sound that almost resolved into words, but never quite did.

The camp remained still, only the generators.

Lo Hung competed with the not-quite-voices movement near the tents due my attention.

Thot emerged in a rush wearing only cargo pants barefoot, his sidearm in hand but not raised.

Proper trigger discipline, even half asleep.