Page 4 of Johnny

indicating that a clean-up job was recently completed, and realize my small chance just slipped away.

They know about that shit-show meeting the Contributors whipped up out at the Kane Estate. They

know the natives are restless. And it’s obvious now that they knew I was coming.

Of course they do.

They know what I’m up to the same way I knew what the Kanes were up to. Spies everywhere.

Making sure we all do our jobs, keeping all their good little soldiers in line.

I keep my approach and pull the yacht up to the dock anyway. The smoke could be a ruse. I can’t

see any of the outbuildings from the shore because of the thick interior jungle. The only things I can

see from the dock are the boathouse—empty—and the maintenance shed. Both still standing, neither

showing any signs of distress.

I jump up on the deck with the line, quickly tie up the yacht, and then shade my eyes with my hand

and look around.

There’s a really nice beach here. Long, and wide, and white. So clean and white you know this

sand was recently shipped in. But there’s a smell in the air. A really sick, foul smell that immediately

warns me to rethink my plan.

I’m not the type of man who takes kindly to warnings, so I walk down the dock, jump onto the sand

and decide to hit up the main house first.

There are six bungalows here that will also need to be checked, just to be sure. Plus a few other…

containment facilities.

When I spent those few days here almost fifteen years ago for Way Kid Summer Camp I explored

the whole place. Most of the secrets this island was keeping were in mid-construction and there were

no people being detained down in the underground bunkers. But even a kid knows that the only reason

you build cells deep below the earth is to keep people there.

And even if I didn’t figure it out while I was there, my father told me things when I got home. He

said, “Johnny, forget everything you saw on that island. Forget every face, forget every building, forget every question you asked yourself while you were there. Because the things that will happen on

that island in the coming months will stain your soul. And you don’t want any part of it.”

His words were kind of poetic. Not something my father was known for. And they stuck with me

all this time for that very reason.

I’m conflicted about my knowledge of this island for two reasons. One—secrets are seductive

because knowing them makes you special. And that’s how they trap you. They make you special. They