PARADISE PARADOX (#1 PARADISE ISLAND duology)

-- nineteen --

"The media?" Kera wiped her snot with her sleeve and tried to get back to her feet. She was wobbly, her stomach unsettled, and rendered worse by the appearance of a man she'd grown to hate more than anything. The man who could have gotten her out of this predicament, if only he hadn't judged her as harshly as others who'd done much worse crimes than her.

Mr. Reynolds stood smug and snide as ever, sporting a trench coat over his impeccable suit, his police baton hanging from his belt. So he had brought it—Kera had wondered, a few times, if he'd be so bold as to threaten the students with violence on top of bringing them here, to this wretched place.

"Ah, yes." Mr. Reynolds glanced towards where Milla was nailed face-first into the tree—from his position, he had no trouble seeing her. "Ms. Moreno was actually a journalist, you see. On the side of her professor duties, that is. She didn't mention that, did she? No... that was forbidden. She thought I didn't know, but... anyway, she worked for an online magazine—one of fairly obscure origins, if you ask me." He spoke with a rigidity that reminded Kera of a newscaster from a popular news channel she hated. It broadcasted programs with far-right beliefs and robotic, slightly stupid anchors. "And she'd made it her lifelong commitment to understand this island and its secrets."

"Secrets? Wait, there's more than what we accidentally stumbled into?" Kera wrinkled her nose. "Oh, right, there must be—and of course you wouldn't want anyone to know, because only the government knows about the sick things you agree to subject students to."

"I agreed to nothing, Miss Mitchell. The Dean of Valence agreed, because he had no other choice." He placed a hand to his chest, for a second almost looking blameless in this messy ordeal. "Did you believe the universities had any say in the matter? That we wholeheartedly accepted this situation?"

"You sure don't look too displeased with it," said Kera, unable to refrain from sneering at him. He had the advantage, the power; and yet she wanted him to know how much she despised him. And in truth, she realized even if he wanted to help her, there likely wasn't much he could do from where he stood, unless he decided to trespass—which Kera was sure he wouldn't.

"I'm neutral." Mr. Reynolds stiffened. "I don't do this for pleasure. But anything for the good of the country, the world, is what I'll abide by, no matter how... hm, how to define this? How terrible it may sound."

"Terrible? No, that word isn't strong enough. You're sick in the head." Kera spat at her feet. "How did you know about Ms. Moreno?"

Mr. Reynolds chuckled. "Oh, she wasn't as discreet as she thought she was. The other professor she came with warned me last time we traveled here that she had an agenda. That there were posters and flyers all over her office about mysterious disappearings in the Bermuda Triangle, and brochures from sinister religious cults that worship gods like those here, in Paradise. She's been researching for a while, it seems, and has been desperate to expose this scheme to the world, and to find a means to salvage anyone stuck where you are. Oh, and I checked with her other employers, who apparently weren't filled in that she was doing all of this under-cover. They gave me all the intelligence I needed the instant I told them I worked for the Dean of Valence."

Kera's nostrils picked up on the putrid odor of blood still coming from Milla's body. "So this guy just spilled all this out to you, no remorse? You're saying they didn't care about exposing her?"

Mr. Reynolds' gaze narrowed. "I didn't think to ask, because I didn't care. And for your information, most professors who sign off on this are aware of what they're agreeing to, and swear to uphold their duties. Ms. Moreno wasn't one such person—she didn't uphold her duties, not entirely. Her recklessness, her exposure could have toppled the entire system set up so long ago."