****
Rayne woke the following morning back in her bed, alone. Ben had insisted on guiding her back to her cabin, and had in return been conned into a shower where Rayne had spent a good few minutes paying lip service to his instrument.
Rayne smiled at the memories, but a darker thought flittered under the surface. What in the actual hell happened?
Breakfast had been left at her cabin door as instructed; it was a continental breakfast with freshly brewed coffee in a glass percolator. As she was spreading a thick layer of butter on her toast, her cabin phone started to ring. Cramming a bite into her mouth, and then quickly regretting it, Rayne swept up the phone and pretended to cough to mask her noisy swallowing.
“Hello?”
“Good morning, Ms. Baker; this is Katie from customer service. I trust you had a pleasant evening?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“That’s good to hear. Now, not to alarm you, but two of our guests fell ill last night. We think they may have been bitten by something while out in the forest.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry--are they alright?”
“They are being looked after, but we want to make sure that it’s contained outside of the resort. If it’s not too much trouble, do you mind if one of our nurses drops in to take your temperature?”
“Oh, sure. I’m just having breakfast.”
After agreeing to a time, Rayne slipped into a bikini, t-shirt and short combo in preparations for the day’s activities. She was going on a canoeing trip down some river to the beach. The nurse turned up exactly on time, leaving Rayne to wonder if they arrive early and just stand outside the doors waiting for their watches to tick over, and lugged a medical case into the cabin.
The nurse, dressed exactly like the rest of the staff, had poorer language skills than her co-workers and chose to communicate solely through hand gestures. With Rayne sitting at the kitchen table, the nurse bustled around with her case before pulling out a penlight and shining it into Rayne’s eyes. She thrusted a tongue depressor into her mouth to take a look at her tonsils and finally took out what looked like a fancy version of an ear thermometer. The nurse seemed to have trouble calibrating the instrument, so she placed it down on the table to check her bag for something. Rayne took a good look at the thermometer and was intrigued; the display seemed to list a lot more than just temperature. There also seemed to be more buttons than any thermometer she had ever seen; perhaps it did more than just temperature readings, she thought.
The nurse picked up her instrument and tweaked a couple of buttons, satisfied after her fourth adjustment. Without any preamble, the nurse tugged Rayne’s earlobe and stuck the metal cone into her ear canal, going a bit deeper than Rayne would have liked. After several long moments, the nurse pulled out the device and read the screen, a little disappointed by the looks of it.
“Am I alright?”
“You fine, enjoy day.” It was the most she had ever said, and as quickly as she arrived, she swept out again leaving Rayne to rub her sore ear.
A motley crew of canoeists stood on the shore of a slow-flowing lagoon that they were told wound down to the beach. The group had been shepherded by resort staff and shoved into brightly-colored life jackets. Rayne stood alone to the side, unsure of how the rest of the guests would react after the previous evening’s debauchery, but the strangers made no outward sign of registration. They mingled in small pockets, fiddling with their jackets and adjusting the straps to fit. The very last person to arrive was Billie; she floated into the group silently and looked around at her surroundings, bewildered.
“Like the latest fashion?” Rayne had sidled up to Billie and struck her best attempt at a model pose.
“Sorry...what?” Billie’s voice was impassionate.
“Oh, the jackets; aren’t they a crime to your eyes?” Rayne forced a chuckle.
Billie shrugged and looked blankly into the distance. Billie didn’t look anything like she did previously; her face was devoid of makeup and she lacked her usual animation. Maybe she’s just unwell, Rayne thought. “Hey, did you have a nurse see you this morning?”
“Hmm? Y--Yes.” Billie turned and walked away toward the pile of waiting canoes, her interest in the maybe-rich Rayne fleeting.
Fine, you magenta-haired bitch, let’s see you out-paddle me.
The tour had been surprisingly fun. The guide had pointed out that the forest had an unusually high level of native medicinal plants and that scientists were still unravelling the mystery of the island to unlock medical marvels. He also pointed out locations where quiet visitors might spot certain animals, and they sat milling in the stream while a family of tiny monkeys jabbered and leapt across branches. Rayne was a keen rower at school; it felt good to feel the muscles tighten around her back and shoulders as she cut through the water.
Finally making it to the ocean, the group dispersed when they were told there was a lunch marquee waiting for them. Despite being the last to make it over, Rayne wasn’t in a position to go without; there was more than enough food for several tour groups. Rayne was concerned about Billie, who had picked up a sandwich but was nibbling mindlessly at it. Billie hadn’t interacted with anyone on the tour, and had taken only fleeting looks at the amazing scenery, which was unusual for someone who made an impression everywhere she went. She had also caused some concern with the other guests, who muttered among themselves that they found her intolerably rude.
Without the hostess watching, Rayne gathered up a selection of foods and snuck it back to the tour guide and his staff who were busily loading the canoes into a trailer. “This is just an extra thank you. You can’t refuse--I insist you take them. Throw them into the trees for all I care.” She pushed the food into the hands of the guide, spun around and left, satisfied when she heard the first crunchy bites into a bread roll.
The rest of the evening had been uneventful. She had sunbathed on the beach, had a long shower and was getting ready for dinner. Tonight, her dinner was to be prepared by a personal chef in the cabin kitchen. A menu had been slid under her door and she had ticked the boxes promptly before popping it on her door handle. An evening alone in her cabin had been an attractive option, but knowing that there was a sex god roaming the island made her want to fling the schedule into the wind. Nonetheless, she endured the chef and his amazing culinary skills. She ended up eating--and sleeping--alone.