Chapter Seven

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I don't say anything to Annabel when I wake up and see her sitting at the end of our bed the next morning. She welcomes me into consciousness with a smile, and I shoot one back. Jamie's nowhere to be seen, and Tom's lying on his bed with his phone in hand, laughing to himself. I stretch my limbs as far as they can go as I sit up, and lean my head back against the bed frame. Well shit.

If I tell Annabel about my dream, she's bound to freak out. If I don't, we might be missing out on something really important. I still remember it perfectly. Could this mean whatever's following us is after Annabel, not me? Then again, all the attacks have been blatantly directed at me, from the poltergeist on New Year's Eve to the spirit Annie and I came across in the lanes around Ava's house.

Could telling Annabel trigger her memory? Maybe what I saw isn't even anything sinister. I did jump to conclusions a bit. I sigh. I have to tell her. It's stupid not to.

"Remind me to never share a bed with you again," Jamie mutters as he appears from the bathroom with damp hair, and a towel in hand. At least he's dressed. That wouldn't be pleasant. "God help Carmen."

"What? Why?" I question as Annabel sniggers.

"You didn't stop fidgeting the whole night, you started talking in your sleep, then you got up at some ridiculous hour and disappeared into the bathroom for some--" Jamie pauses midway through rubbing a towel through his hair. "Have you shaved?"

"What d'you think I was doing in the bathroom at three in the morning?" I shrug as I get out of bed.

"Mate, that's genius," Tom says from across the room. "I'm always too busy to shave in the day."

Jamie snaps something in response, but I'm already in the bathroom by the time he says it, so I don't hear what. I washed my hands last night, but my arms still have splotches of mud and blood on them, so I'm in dire need of a shower. I've got to deal with this whole Tracker thing too. Ava's going to love that. I watch the water as I turn the shower on, and within seconds of stepping into the square cubicle, it turns from clear to a mucky brown colour, dotted with spots of red. I should probably tell Ava all this alone. I don't want to scare anyone.

Around half an hour later, I'm knocking on Ava and Carmen's bedroom door. I can hear the girls talking behind it. I guess it's okay if Carmen hears. Seconds after knocking, the door flings open. Ava's dark eyes greet me, and sitting on one of the twin beds behind her is Carmen bent over her laptop.

"Hi," I say. "Morning. You sleep okay? Lumpy beds, right?"

God, I'm bad at this.

"What's wrong?" Ava questions, knowing me all too well.

"Nothing," I say incredibly unconvincingly. "I mean, it's fine, I think. Sort of. Kinda. It's probably nothing."

"Felix." Ava's not taking an ounce of my bullshit.

I sigh. Here we go. Once I'm inside the room, I start with the lighter stuff: Lucy's phone, late night exploring in fields in the middle of nowhere, then throw a bit of spice into the story by bringing up the Tracker. I don't mention my dream because I want to tell Annabel before I air our dirty laundry to everyone else. She's sitting on Ava's bed beside her as I relay last night, and Lucy's joined us now too.

Thankfully, Ava doesn't seem too worried. I was right in thinking the appearance of one Tracker isn't a sign of any sort of Armageddon.

"We've not even been on this island a full day yet," I say as I lie back on Carmen's bed, and stare up at the off-white ceiling. "How did it even find us so fast?"

"It could be pure luck. Either that, or a dark spirit might've led one to us. If one had seen us, and a spirit related to your witch hunt came into contact with it, that could've, like whoa, sped things up." Ava stands up from her bed to pop into the bathroom for a moment, but she returns within a few seconds. "It doesn't matter anyway, you'll have banished it quickly enough. It's groovy."

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