AUGUST 14, 2018, 12:29 AM
The camera is trained on the ocean, and at the mist that cloaks the island in the distance. At the edge of the frame, Dr. Kapoor sits, her arm in a sling. Kenny Lee appears, walking out with a thermos. He sits beside her, pours a cup, hands it over.
LEE: You should let me take a shift.
KAPOOR: Soon.
LEE: You’ve got to rest.
KAPOOR: The only thing waiting for me back there is an empty house and a phone with my son’s mother on the other end of it.
LEE: And a bed. There’s a bed too.
KAPOOR: I don’t—
There’s a blast of air that rocks the camera.
LEE: What was that?
Kapoor and Lee leap to their feet. A cacophony of bird calls fills the air. White forms flash from the mist, flying straight toward them—toward them, and overhead. Lee picks up the camera, tracking their movement as the huge mass of birds wings south.
LEE: That looks like all of them!
The mist begins to clear, revealing the bay, the water empty and still, untroubled by the slightest wave.
KAPOOR: Come on. Come on, Liam. Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to her.
Out of the mist, a final bird flies: a raven, massive and black as pitch. Kapoor sucks in a hopeful breath.
LEE: There!
Lee points excitedly, and zooms the camera in on the small blot in across the water, floating at the edge of the mist. A boat, with three figures sitting in it. The sound of the motor makes its way to the shore, and Lee whoops.
KAPOOR: Is Liam there?
LEE: Yeah! Yeah, you can see his stupid haircut!
Lee continues to yell and wave his arms. Kapoor sinks down, as if the weight of relief is more painful than the fear.
KAPOOR: Three. There are only three.
LEE: Wait. There’s someone else in the boat. Lying down.
The figure is in the bottom of the boat, covered in a blanket. The boat draws up to the shore. Liam leaps out, and Kapoor grabs hold of him, crushing him to her.
LIAM: You’re alive. You made it.
KAPOOR: Of course I did. That island tried to kill me once already.
LEE: Here, let me help you.
Lee sets the camera down as he moves to help Abby haul the skiff farther up on shore.
LIAM: We found the boat—we thought for sure that meant you hadn’t . . .
KAPOOR: I stumbled out of the echo on Belaya Skala, and Maria and Kenny were waiting for me. I thought—I thought that if you managed to get out, you’d need a ride back. Left the boat for you.
NOVAK: Vanya.
Kapoor jerks. She turns toward the boat, toward where Lee and Sophie are helping the fourth passenger from the boat. She stands on the shore, unsteady, her arms still striped with salt tracks.
KENNY: Oh, my God.
NOVAK: It’s good to see you, Vanya.
Novak’s smile is weary but genuine. The blanket drops from her shoulders. Her ragged wings hang, broken, bloodied, from her back. She shuts her eyes and lets out a soft sigh as the light of this world shines across them.
Black spreads like frost over the feathers, the patches of exposed skin and fractured bone. They flake away, soot scattered in the wind, leaving only skin behind.
Sophie laces her fingers through her mother’s.
KAPOOR: And which one are you, then?
The girl looks at her steadily, and does not answer.
The mist fades. The waters are still. The birds are gone.