A small swell caused their raft to bump against her leg and brought her back from her daydream. She turned her gaze from their future back toward Eric with a smile. He was smiling back only ten paces away, but Abby gasped as she saw Sara running up fast behind him. Sara’s entire chest was covered in blood that was still flowing from her broken nose. Her face was smeared with blood and tears, nearly to the point that it was unrecognizable. In her right hand, Abby saw she had found the knife—which meant she had also found Tom.
Eric saw Abby’s face, but he was slow to react. Too slow. Abby abandoned the raft and dashed past him, grabbing Sara’s knife hand and wrestling her away just before she reached Eric. Sara landed a left hook to Abby’s ear, sending her sprawling onto the sand. Sara jumped on top of her, but Eric swiftly kicked her in the ribs, knocking the wind out of her and flipping her onto her back in the sand. The knife landed a few feet out of reach.
He jumped on top of Sara, pinning her hands to the ground. He shouted at Abby, “Get the raft!”
“What?”
“The raft! It’s floating away!”
Abby looked out to the raft that was quickly being carried out with the tide.
“Go! What are you waiting for?”
“No, finish her off! Then, we’ll swim out together.”
“Finish her off? Are you insane? I’m not going to kill an unarmed woman I’ve got pinned to the ground. Get the raft and bring it back. It’s gonna be gone in another thirty seconds.”
Abby did not move. She was paralyzed by indecision.
“GO!” he screamed at her.
Reluctantly, she dove into the water and swam out toward the raft. It didn’t take long. However, when she climbed on top of it, she was shocked at just how far out she was. She was at least twenty yards out, maybe more. She could see the oars on the beach next to Eric and Sara. With no other way to paddle in, she lay chest down with her arms hanging over the front and tried paddling back toward the shore with her hands. The water splashed in her face, so she couldn’t see her progress. She paddled her hardest, until her arms were dead tired, and she stopped to look up, figuring she must be close.
She felt the air rush from her lungs as she saw she was even farther out than she’d been when she started. Eric and Sara were struggling on the beach. From at least sixty yards out, they were tiny. She lay down again, hanging her legs off the back of the raft and kicking. She was not making any progress. She kicked harder, but felt the current carrying her out farther. In this position, she could at least see them clearly on the beach.
They were on their feet now, though Abby couldn’t figure out how Sara had slipped out from under him. Sara had the knife, and Eric had an oar. He was swinging at her, but she kept her distance, so he didn’t catch anything but air. Someone else came running through the trees and yelled at them. Abby recognized her fiery-red hair even at a distance. It was Emily, the one she had left unconscious and tied up a few hours ago. The other woman with the broken leg was nowhere to be seen.
Sara never took her eyes off Eric. However, Eric turned when the redhead yelled out something Abby could not hear. She was too far out to hear what was said and too far out to hear Eric scream when Sara slashed him with the knife, though she saw it clearly. Abby screamed and jumped onto the raft. She was still going out to sea quickly, caught in some sort of riptide. She saw the redhead streaking across the sand toward Eric and Sara. Eric was lying on the sand, clutching his side helplessly.
Her arms and legs were dead tired, but she could not just float out here and watch him die. She had to try. Using the raft as a platform, she dove into the water and swam as hard as she could. She was going against the current and fighting a losing battle. The pain burned through her shoulders, and she couldn’t see the beach over the swells in the water. She didn’t make it five minutes before she was forced to give up, smacking the water with her open hand in frustration.
She looked behind her. The raft was bobbing in the water not far from her. The current was at her back now, so she paddled over to it with little effort and clung to it. Her arms and shoulders were burning. Fighting through the pain and tears, she managed to pull herself onto the raft. The raft Eric had built; the raft that was saving her life at the moment, even though she could do nothing for him.
She finally worked up the courage to turn toward the beach.
It was empty. They were gone. He was gone.
Abby felt rage and hatred boiling up from her stomach. Crying, she collapsed onto the raft, pounding the hard wood with her fists until her hands were bleeding. She screamed to the endless and empty sea and made a vow to herself that she would get back to the island. When she did, she would kill anyone left on that godforsaken rock.
15
ABBY’S EYES SQUINTED as they opened in the bright, midday sun. She wondered how long she had been floating out there. Hours? Days? She thought hard to remember. She recalled being wet and shivering in the middle of the night. She ultimately decided she had been out there at least a full twenty-four hours. Judging by the overhead sun, she had spent much of the morning sleeping, and it was close to noon. She readjusted her assessment and figured she had probably been floating out there for a day-and-a-half by now.
Her throat and lips were completely dry. Eric had stuffed the solar bag into his back pocket when they left the shelter. Eric. She wanted to cry at just the thought of his name. Although her body had been wracked with sobbing throughout the night, she realized now that her eyes were not welling up with tears anymore; they just hurt. She was getting severely dehydrated. If she didn’t get back to land soon, she wouldn’t get back to land at all.
Sitting up, she stretched her arms. What had been a bad headache yesterday had progressed into a searing migraine today. It began at the base of her neck, where she had been clubbed the night before, and seemed to reach throughout her entire brain. Not only had she been knocked unconscious last night, but she had gone over a day without food or water.
She wondered whether her shoulders were sore from paddling yesterday or from sleeping the night on an array of mismatched logs. Looking around, she couldn’t believe she was still in relatively close proximity to the island. She was probably a few hundred yards out at most. The raft was moving swiftly enough, but it was not moving away from the island. In fact, it seemed to be moving in a counterclockwise circle around the island.
Over the next hour, she watched as the beach where she had first met Eric a few weeks ago appeared in front of her. The cave where they had nearly been drowned looked rather innocuous at the moment. Slowly, she passed by the beach, going left to right. She thought about jumping from the raft and trying to swim in. Remembering how disastrous that had turned out the previous morning, she thought better of it. Today, she was significantly weaker.
She decided she would close her eyes and rest. Later, when the sun was lower in the sky, it wouldn’t be so hot, and she would feel stronger. Her mind was set. She refused to die floating out here on this raft, even if making a swim for land was certain death. If she was going to die, at least she was going to die trying. Lying in the warm sun, she began drifting off almost immediately.
In her half-lucid state, she began dreaming. There was a man. He was handsome, and she was drawn to him. But, he was hurting her. She couldn’t describe it, but when she was with him, her body was wracked with pain. She couldn’t escape him. She was helpless and trapped, unable to reach out or turn around. She tried to see his face, but he didn’t have one. His shape was familiar but only a foggy memory. She was struggling now; wriggling, kicking, and scratching. He was unfazed and laughing at her. The feeling of naked vulnerability encompassed her while she struggled.
She was stuck in a state between dreams and consciousness and began willing herself to wake up from the nightmare. Her limbs were paralyzed, but she continued to struggle. She felt helpless in reality as much as she did in her nightmare. Finally, with a gasp, she shot up, screaming and remembering where she was.
&nb
sp; “What the hell was that?”
Looking around to get her bearings, she couldn’t place exactly where she was in relation to the island. The sun was getting lower in the sky. She must have slept longer than she’d thought. It had seemed like just a few minutes. She leaned over the edge of the raft. Not willing to test her muscles just yet, she splashed some cool seawater on her face. It was just a dream, but it felt so real. Her heart was pounding in her throat.
Stretching out on the raft, she took stock of her faculties. Her head felt a little better, though she still had a bump on the back of it, which throbbed with every heartbeat. Her arms and legs, while still weak, did not feel quite as sore as they had earlier. She would have felt a little more confident if she knew exactly where she was, though. Looking in, she appeared to at least be closer to land than she had been before.
Earlier, she had figured she was at least three-hundred yards offshore when the raft had passed by the beach. Now, she couldn’t be more than one-hundred yards out, and it almost seemed as though she was continuing to get closer. Maybe the tide was going in.
There was some sort of inlet and cove up ahead. She didn’t recognize it, but the raft seemed to be heading in that direction, so that was where she was going. She lay on her back and pedaled her feet in the air to see how her legs felt. They were tired, but the soreness was gone, and she knew they were stronger than her arms were.
She loosened one of the vines toward the back of the raft so that she would have something to grip onto. Hanging her feet off the back and into the water, she began kicking. Within a few minutes, her thighs burned. The pain was inside her legs and muscles, but to her surprise, she seemed to be making progress. She kicked harder toward the island, and within ten minutes, she’d cut her distance from land in half. The pain intensified, but she was numb to it. She was only focused on getting back to shore.
The raft entered the inlet on her left. With only several yards to go, she looked to the side and could see through the clear, blue water, right down to the sandy bottom. She decided to let go of the raft and swim diagonally to shore. The sand dropped off sharply not far from the edge, but she figured she was only a few feet from being able to touch the bottom, anyway.
She let go and tried to put her feet down into the sand. The water was about chest-high. Her legs immediately gave out from under her, and she fell. She flailed, trying to get closer to shore, but her limbs wouldn’t cooperate. Each time she tried to stand, she was knocked over. She watched as the raft drifted away from her and beached itself further down the inlet. Abby wondered if she should just try to follow it. She was so disoriented that she did not even realize the strength of the current she was trying to fight. Each time she fell, she had more difficultly standing up again.
Finally, she managed to stand. Knowing she would be pulled down again, she did her best to fall forward, her head landing on the wet sand at the water’s edge. She lay there for a moment, still in the water from the hips down, feeling the current tug at her feet. She reached up to grab anything she could—a rock, sea grass, even sand. She was willing to take anything she could grip to aid her in dragging herself fully out of the water.
She was shocked to feel a hand grab hers. Abby looked up to see Robert’s smiling face. He grasped her under the shoulders, pulled her out of the water, and helped her walk from the water’s edge into the shade of the nearby trees. She let go of him with the intention of sitting on the ground against the thick trunk of a tree. Instead, her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground right where she stood.
“What in the world happened to you?”
Abby tried to speak, but only made a rasping sound. She attempted to clear her throat and winced in pain, as if a thousand razors were slicing the inside of her throat. He handed her a small canteen, which she drained in seconds, not spilling a drop.
“Thanks,” she croaked after a few moments, handing him the empty canteen. He handed her a second one that was full. She gulped down half of it before taking a break and looking at him. “Thanks again,” she said, more clearly.
He asked again, “What happened?”
Her breathing finally began to slow. She took another gulp from the canteen and handed it back. “We were trying to make our escape off the island.” Her mind wandered back to yesterday morning, and she began to choke up. She swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in her throat. “They killed him. He saved me, and they killed him.”
Abby broke down as Robert put his arm around her. “It is all right,” he said. “They are not here. No one is going to hurt you.”
She yelled, “They already have! They killed him! He saved my life—twice! We were almost out! The raft was floating away!” She paused to compose herself. “He knew. He knew if I swam out to the raft, I wouldn’t be able to make it back. He was just buying time, holding them back, so I would be safe.”
She recounted the last few days for Robert—Sara showing up and befriending them, getting caught in the trap, Eric saving her at the camp, killing Tom. By the time she recounted last seeing Eric, lying on the beach while she watched helplessly from the raft, she showed no emotion—at least, she wasn’t crying anymore. She was angry. She was furious and filled with hate.
“I’m going to kill them, Robert. I’m going to kill every one of them.” She tried to stand. Her legs shook under her as she braced herself against the tree, until she felt her footing was secure. He stood an arm’s-length away as she tried to take a step, and he caught her as her legs gave out.
“Abby, I understand what you’re feeling right now. However, you are not going to do anything but get yourself killed in this condition.” Their eyes met, only inches apart.
“You smell like rosemary,” she said.
He laughed. “There are worse things I could smell like, I suppose. I picked some fresh this morning to make with roast potatoes and a wild duck for dinner. Come back with me. Have some food and get your strength back.”
She shook her head, and for the first time in a few hours, felt the familiar sharp pain at the back of her head. “Fine,” she said, reluctantly agreeing to go with him.
“Good. Now, let’s get your head right and get some food in you.”
They walked into the trees, her arm slung across his waist, and his arm around her shoulder for support. They were quiet for a long time, with the exception of Abby’s occasional grunting when Robert helped her climb over a rock or a fallen tree.
He eventually broke the silence. “I will get you back on your feet, but I am not going to help you kill those people.”
Abby stopped and let go of him, snapping back, “I don’t need your help! I didn’t ask for your help.”
He chuckled a bit.
She asked, “Is that funny?”
“Well,” he said, “by my count, you would be dead twice-over now, without my help. So, whether you have asked for it or not, it has turned out well enough for you so far.” He gestured for her to come close again, so they could continue walking.
Abby knew he was right. As they walked through the trees, there was something familiar and safe about him, she thought.
“I know you’re young, and you know everything, but let me offer you some of the best advice I can: Learn to accept help. Learn to trust the right people, and let the right people into your life. Keep the wrong ones out. You learn to do that, and you are going to be just fine.”
He gave her a squeeze around the shoulders, and she squeezed back. She gave him a little smile. “That sounds familiar,” she said. “Is that from a movie?”
He was looking off into the distance. “It is something you may have heard before.”
“Well, I think I was doing that. Letting the right people into my life, that is. Those people—Sara and that redhead, Emily—they killed him.” She stopped and looked in his eyes. “They took him away from me. Whether you help me or not, I’m going to take their lives away from them.”
16
ABBY HAD BEEN STAYING with Robert for the p
ast several days. They stood together on the hillside as he pointed over the trees. “I will tell you how I always know where they are,” he said. “Late in the afternoon, just as the sun is going down, they light a fire. They almost always do. You have to be watching over the island when they light it.”
“Why is that?”
“Before it gets going, it will be very smoky. Once the fire is going pretty good, there is very little smoke. You watch and see where that smoke comes up through the trees, and that’s where they are.” He pointed toward the northeast. “That is where they were for the last few weeks.” Then, he pointed toward the beach, where Abby had launched the raft and the sun was starting to dip low in the sky. “That is where they have been for the past few days.”
Abby nodded. “That’s where our camp was set up. Do you think they have been staying there?”
“Why not?” he said. “You had a shelter, food, and wood. You said they were hurt, so they probably didn’t want to hike back through the trees. That is probably exactly where they are.”
Abby was pacing. Over the past few days, she’d eaten good meals, gained back her strength, and was starting to feel anxious. She was feeling fit and unstoppable. It was time for her to move on, and they both knew it.
“I can’t help you,” he said.
“I’m not asking you to. Just don’t get in my way.”
“I will not stop you, either. I will not interfere with the will of another,—even if I do not agree with it.”
“That’s all I can ask,” she said.
They stood, watching the sky for a few minutes. As the sun got lower, the sky turned brilliant shades of orange, purple, and pink near the horizon.
Escape, the Complete Trilogy Page 12