Long Weekend

"I'm just fed up," I lie. I'm not ready to explain my suspicions about Penny to anyone, besides by doing so, I'd have to share that I went into Lucas's villa after he'd died. That might put the suspicion onto me. One thing this weekend has taught me about myself is that when it really comes down to it, I’m just as gifted a liar as everyone else. My parents would be shocked.

Penny could argue that I'm only sharing my worries about her to take the spotlight off of myself. No. It was more sensible to keep my thoughts to myself whilst keeping one eye on her. Besides, I couldn't tell Robert what was on my mind when she was only feet away from me. At first, I’d thought it was a terrorist group hunting us down. That made the most sense, especially in the political climate we were living through.

The global recession had caused people to behave desperately, it had caused there to be a lot of resentment to those who had money and success. And resentment often breeds hate. So yes. It had made perfect sense for it to be a terrorist group murdering everyone on the island. Or it had made sense until Penny had revealed information she couldn’t possibly know. Now I’m certain she’s behind this. I just need to wait for her to make a mistake I could cling to. One that couldn’t be denied or talked around. And at least now I knew who the enemy was. I could be careful. I could prevent her from striking again.

Up ahead of us, I can now see Guest Services. Unfortunately, we'd all forgotten one thing in all the madness - the large open seating area between the shelter of the bushes and the phone at the desk. Penny's stopped moving now and we all follow suit, kneeling down in a group so we can all speak freely to each other.

"What are we going to do?" whispers Fiona, glancing around.

"We haven't heard any noises from them for a while. Maybe they're taking a break," suggests Stephen. Just at that moment, as though he'd summoned it, there was a large thud and crackle in the distance. A plume of smoke appears across the pool near Penny's villa. The pyre - they're lighting off the pyre. I remember seeing it out of the window at Penny's. I'd tried to forget the image and the fear it had induced in me.

A smell wafts its way towards us on the breeze; it's nauseating and yet sweet. I've never smelt anything like it. It's so rich I can almost taste it. It settles into my nose hairs and I just know that I'll never really get it out. Our conversation has paused as each of us takes in the scent coming towards us, everyone trying to get a handle on what it is.

"Oh god," says Robert. "Oh, no. Oh, no."

"What?" I ask, as he runs his hands through his hair, grabbing hold of it as he does so and giving it a light pull. Anxiety has very quickly gotten a hold of Robert and I wasn't sure why.

"I worked with a guy once. A stunt man. He'd been at an accident on site a few years ago. There'd been a stunt involving fire, a big explosion, a real-life one, not one of those CGI ones." Tears are coming to his eyes now as he tries not to sink too deeply into the past. "We were talking about it one day. One of his colleagues died in the explosion. Someone hadn't flipped the right switch or something. He described to me the smell. That's the thing he kept talking about, how you never forget the smell." He's rambling now.

"The smell of what?" asks Stephen, but I already know where this story is going and I heave before Robert replies.

"The smell of burning flesh."

"Shit," says Fiona. "Shit." She repeats for extra measure. Nobody speaks for a moment, as we all consider the weight of Roberts's words. The pyre - they're burning the victims on the pyre. They're destroying the evidence, desecrating their bodies, robbing their families of the chance to bury them with respect.

"What are we going to do?" asks Robert, hoping for someone to take the lead. For somebody to make the decision we all know is our only one.

"We run." I reply and everyone turns to look at me as though I'm mad. It's the only answer though. We're out of all other options. "Hopefully they're too busy, over there," I gesture towards the location of the fire, "to bother looking for us over here."

"Every man for themselves?" asks Stephen as he stares across the seating area towards Guest Services.

"Not quite. But we all just have to run as fast as we can. The first one to make it over there needs to grab the phone and dial any number you can."

"This isn't what I signed up for when I took this job," Stephen sighs and I feel sorry for him. I keep forgetting that whilst this isn't the weekend I had in mind, this is his place of work, and it's his colleague's bodies burning on that fire. I place my hand on his shoulder and am about to say something comforting when Fiona interrupts.

"Isn't exactly what we signed up for either." Rather than having empathy in this moment, Fiona is choosing to be selfish. I guess you do know the true measure of a woman when her back is against the wall. Then again, when faced with the option of saving myself or warning innocent people, I'd chosen selfishly too. I'm not so different from everyone else around me.

"I'll be contacting my lawyers as soon as I get home," adds Penny. I didn’t think it were possible to like her any less than I already did. Who exactly is she hoping to sue for this? It's nobody but the murderer’s fault and she won't get any money out of them.

She wouldn't be the only one contacting lawyers when we're all safely back in our homes though. I intend to make sure that my article is airtight on every level, so the public see’s what she's really like. Not only has she been cold-hearted, but she knows things she couldn't possibly know. Unless she's the one behind them. It's possible she killed Lucas and Michael. She has no alibi for either.

For all I know, she's working with somebody else on the island, someone she let in through a window after putting Sam to bed. Someone who was on the roof and took a shot at the young chef. Penny's name will be mud by the time I'm through with her.

"No time like the present I guess?" asks Fiona, smiling at me as she does so. "I'm warning you though, I'm a pretty fast runner." She's trying to lighten the mood; bring a bit of competition into our situation. It isn't working. I'm still uneasy around her since seeing the 'business' side of her, the one that accused and needled Robert under the guise of caring about him. She's not quite the woman I'd thought she was.

"You're on Appleton," says Robert, winking at her. Their friendship is becoming more odd by the second, but maybe that's the way childhood friendships grow. They leave little space for an outsider to understand them.

As though someone has shot a starter pistol, Robert and Fiona sprint towards the seating area. With a shake of her head at their childish behaviour, Penny makes pursuit, closing the distance between them with ease. I can't say the same for me and Stephen. It's not like we have personal trainers at home.

I watch as Penny outstrips Robert and then Fiona, reaching the check-in desk without breaking a sweat. Robert and Fiona slow their pace, aware when they’d been beaten and instead focus their attention on the surrounding area, making sure we haven’t missed any danger heading our way. Myself and Stephen soon catch up to them, and the four of us lightly jog towards Penny, who has the landline phone in her hand. There’s a relieved smile on her face and then I realise what her plan has been all along. She’s going to destroy the phone. Take away our only chance at safety.

I feel the air move as the bullet rips past my shoulder and the noise is sickening. Fiona grabs me and pulls me behind a nearby wall. Robert and Stephen duck for cover opposite us. We look on in horror as for one brief moment Penny remains standing at the desk, phone in hand, a look of relief on her face. She was making the call that would save us. This was all nearly over.

Then, as though she's a puppet on a string being packed away, she folds in on herself. Crumpling into a pile that we can no longer see. Fiona covers my mouth as I go to scream Penny's name.

All my suspicions and dislike for the woman are gone in a flash. I try to fight against Fiona's grip but it's too tight. I can feel her fingernails pressing against my cheek. She wraps her other arm around my chest, a way to prevent me from moving. Although I know she's only trying to protect me, it feels like overkill. You don’t show someone you care by hurting them, even in a small way. I guess she's still mad about the camera.

My hands move down to my hip where the plastic bag Penny had given me is. As far as I can tell just by touch, my camera is still in one piece, despite the way I was pushed behind the wall. Fiona must have felt me relaxing ever so slightly as she releases her grip on me.

"We have to check if she's okay," I whisper to her and she shushes me. She glances over to where Robert and Stephen are crouched. They're on the other side of the path, behind a tall wall just as we are. I'm pretty sure you couldn't see us if you were standing at the guest desk but that doesn't mean somebody isn't going to walk down here and find us. We need to get Penny and find a better cover.

Just as I'm about to explain that to Fiona, we hear footsteps approaching. Despite her protests, I peek round the wall as much as I am able to and watch in horror as somebody walks towards the desk where Penny was standing previously. Maybe she's managed to crawl out. She could be hiding somewhere nearby. Please. Please let that be the case.

I can't make out any details of the person walking. There's a mask over their face and their stature is non-descript. I'm pretty sure it's a man but I wouldn't place a bet on it.

They have a large rifle slung over one shoulder, which they push to one side as they peer over the desk. My heart’s in my throat as they approach the door Penny was running through just moments ago. The first thing they do is pull the cord for the landline out of the wall, and punch the socket. I can hear the sound as though I’m in there with them. It’s the sound of my hope falling away. There goes our chance at freedom. The second thing they do is bend down, out of my view line.

By now Robert has followed my lead and is also peering around the corner of his wall. We shoot each other a look of concern. What's the gunman planning to do now?

We don't have to wait long for an answer as he emerges, bent in two, from the service door. A hand under each of Penny's armpits as he drags her from the desk. I desperately look for any sign of life from her, but she's limp. From this distance, I can't tell if she's breathing, and there's blood pouring from somewhere near her left shoulder.

"Is she dead?" Robert mouths at me as we watch the man very gently pulls Penny across the floor, away from us, and towards the fire. I shrug my shoulders.

He can tell as much as I can from this distance. If she's alive, then she's unconscious enough that she can't fight back against her captor, but there doesn't seem to be enough blood for it to have been a fatal shot. But what do I know? My medical knowledge extends to episodes of Grey’s Anatomy and although my parents joke that I'm the family doctor - I'm most certainly not an expert.

We watch in silence until the man and Penny disappear from view.

"What do we do now?" I ask Fiona.

“But what about Penny?”

“It’s too late for Penny.”

I want to tell her that she’s wrong. That she’s being selfish. But I can’t. Because she isn’t. Once again, we have to choose between our own lives and someone else’s, and once again I make the choice I never thought I would. I nod my head in agreement.

“Where do we go?”

“We need to get out of the complex. But they’re looking for us now. They know we passed through here.”

“No. We stay here and we wait for the sun to set. We’ll be safer in the dark.”

Judging by the height of the sun, it’s just gone midday. She can’t possibly mean we wait here for eight hours before we move. That’s madness. What’s stopping the man, because yes, I'm assuming it's a man given their strength, coming back once he’s dealt with Penny? The pavement is boiling beneath my bare feet. We need shade and shelter.

“They won’t expect us to still be in this area. They’ll assume the shot would have made us panic and run. That’s what we can’t do, Emma. We can’t panic. We need to be in control of this.” Her words, the sureness of them, are a comfort. So much so that I nearly forget the strength at which she gripped me just minutes ago. But my cheek still tingles from the scratch her nails left behind. Fiona is not somebody to cross, she’s somebody I need to keep on my side.