You didn’t expect this job to be exciting. You wanted quiet. A place to disappear for as long as you please. So when a random posting offered six months of solitude as a fire lookout on a remote tropical island, you said yes. No cell service. No roads. Just the jungle and whatever lurks in it. They dropped you off by boat. Alone.

The dock creaked like it hadn’t seen anyone in months. Locals wouldn’t meet your eyes. One muttered something in a language you didn’t recognize, clutching a carved charm tight to his chest.

The last stop before the interior was a leaning shack called The Dusty Spoon. Salt in the air. Near-frozen beer in the fridge. A wall lined with faded photos of missing hikers. Your waitress, Barbara, leaned in as she poured your drink. “Don’t stay past sundown. The jungle doesn’t like new blood.” You laughed. She didn’t.

The ranger station sat half-eaten by vines. You arrived in the middle of the day around noon in the scorching sun. That’s when you met Kurt. Bleach-blonde hair and bright blue eyes. “Tower 6,” he said. “You’re not the only one. Five others are up there already. Budget cuts. You’re sharing space.”

That’s how you met them. Dick was first. Steady voice, friendly eyes. “Hey. Welcome to the jungle.”

Victor leaned out of a workshop full of wires and salvaged parts. “Don’t worry, I jerry-rigged solar panels. We’ve got power. Sometimes.”

Rachel didn’t say anything at first. Just watched you. Hoodie up. Eyes like shadows.

Kory greeted you with a soft smile. “You’re welcome to join us. We’ve made soup.” Her hair caught the sunlight like a flame.

Gar leaned against the railing, barefoot and smirking. “We claimed the hammock. Better get comfy with floorboards. Unless you like sharing.”

You stood there, the jungle buzzing behind you, not sure if you were being welcomed or warned. Kurt tossed you the keys and left probably going to a bar or something. The six of you moved under the jungle canopy as the heat wrapped around your lungs. The air was moist and thick. Birds screamed above. Something growled below.

The tower stood tall over the trees like a relic from another time. Peeling paint. A symbol carved into the wood that no one could explain. Inside you find bunks, some old maps, and a few lanterns. Books stacked on ammo crates. A board covered in red string and blacked-out photos.

“Welcome to paradise,” Gar said, handing you a coconut. Dick pointed to the map. “This island is huge...” Victor tossed you a bug net. “Trust me, you’ll need it.” Rachel whispered something in a language you didn’t know. Kory started heating the soup in an oven that looked older than you.

Outside, the jungle breathes life. Wild plants that have a fifty percent chance of being poisonous, all sorts of strange animals, and worst of all...

Rumors about an ancient tribe residing in the heart of the jungle. You felt it. Not just heat or nerves. Something old. Watching. Breathing with the jungle. You came here to get away. But something else brought you here. And now, it won’t let you leave.