Chapter 31
Alistair sat with crisscrossed legs on the bed next to Ben, who was now mostly awake and relatively coherent. He had no idea how he’d gotten to the island. No memory of the woods or the lake or the boat.
Alistair had an open jar of berries in her lap. She reached in and pulled a berry out for Ben, placing it at his pale lips.
Alistair, where are you?
Alistair nervously blinked against the now ever-present voice in her head, “You can move your legs and your left arm. That’s probably good news for your spine, right?”
“Right,” Ben answered, chewing, his voice not much more than a sandpapery croak.
“You can move your right arm, but there’s something wrong at the shoulder. Also, probably broken ribs, which maybe is all the bruising and pain, along with hitting the asphalt. But
