by Toby Neal
She wrinkled her nose. Manini guts always smelled particularly strong from a diet of algae and reef growth.
“Think that’s enough for today,” Jaden said. “We’ll need another bag for more.” He rinsed the fish in the water, packing them neatly into his fish bag.
“Okay. I want to check out the plane wreck. See if there’s anything useful left behind there.”
“Excellent.” His eyes flared wide with excitement. He’d been withdrawn since the Apucans’ house, and she could tell he was relieved she’d shaken off the encounter at the Lodge.
“How’s your ankle?” Bea asked, glancing at him as they walked through the sand toward the horse. She carried the loaded bags and Jaden his heavy net.
“Sore.” Jaden now wore a neoprene brace his parents had given him. He stowed the net in his backpack. They hid their equipment under the beach log and mounted Rainbow with the fish bags tied together and dangling on either side of the mare. Bea guided the horse up onto the rutted dirt road that ran along the beach most of the way around the island and headed toward Keomoku, the long beach facing Maui where the plane wreck lay.
Ash, the girl at the Lodge, had implied that everyone who could move up to the Lodge had done so. Bea’s heart beat with heavy thuds. What did that mean? Would they find people dying, too injured to move? Would there be bodies everywhere? “Move it, girl.”
Jaden tightened his arms around her waist, his breath fluttering the hair at her ear as he said, “What’s the hurry?”
“Just want to get this over with.” She noticed the way his arms felt around her, both warm and strong. “I want to see if there’s anyone we can still help and if there’s anything good we can salvage.”
“We should have thought of that earlier,” Jaden said. “But I guess it was good we got the fish first. They need the food at home.” Bea wondered if he still had to hold her quite this close, but she didn’t say anything as the mare moved into a gentle canter and ate up the couple of miles around the coast to the wreck site.
Rainbow came to a halt on her own at what was, to her, a familiar grazing spot in front of the kids’ favorite swimming hole as Bea and Jaden stared, unspeaking, at the wrecked plane.
Waves had come up in the intervening days since the plane had gone down, pushing it further in toward shore. Mostly intact, it still had a terrible look about it, like a dead seagull with a torn-off wing. They slid off the mare without speaking. Rainbow had already dropped her head to graze. Bea looped her reins around a tall naupaka bush, scanning the area.
The beach was deserted.
A makeshift shelter filled with airline pillows and blankets marked where the survivors had camped. A mountain of opened suitcases, spewing clothing and useless items like hair dryers and electric razors, formed a mound that the teens walked carefully around.
Bea looked down the beach and drew in a sharp breath as she pointed. “Look, Jaden.”
A row of six driftwood crosses, high above the tide line, marched like forlorn, drunken soldiers down the beach. The empty camp was a testament to suffering and loss, and its atmosphere of misery seemed to seep into her very skin.
She didn’t want to be there long. “Let’s take a look at the wreck and go.”
Jaden nodded in agreement. They walked down through the sand and waded waist-deep into the pool. Detritus from the plane littered the water—broken seat belts, plastic breathing masks, disintegrating magazines, even the squat shape of an unopened carry-on rested on the bottom of the pool near the open door of the plane.
The door opening into the wreck beckoned.
Jaden reached up into the rubber-lined aperture and hauled himself into the aircraft with a heave of his arms. He squatted on the ceiling that was now a floor and offered her a hand. Bea shook her head and boosted herself in on her own with just a kick into the water below. They moved in to explore the interior.
The seats ran upside down all along what had become the roof to the tail of the plane. Seat belts dangled. There was a smell of brine, mold, and the sweetish stench of something rotten. The overhead compartments that they stood on had opened and coils of released air masks waited to trip them. Bea turned toward the cockpit and moved forward to investigate.
The plastic of the plane’s ceiling was slick and slippery, as if it were covered with condensation or the beginning of algae, and the door of the cockpit was open, revealing that the small windows in the front had been blown inward, and the sea now filled the nose of the plane. Dead instruments, fogged with water, rose above the water coming in. The pilot’s seats were mercifully empty, but Bea guessed that the pilots had at least been injured but more likely were feeding crabs on the beach right now.
Her stomach lurched as a small wave splashed her.
“There’s nothing useful here.” Bea moved backward and bumped into Jaden. The space felt claustrophobic, the smells overwhelming. “Let’s get out of here.” She squeezed past him and jumped down into the pool, splashing rapidly across to the shore. She turned back. Jaden was still in the plane.
Chapter Sixteen
Nick turned back toward the forbidding-looking Lodge. Clearly going back in the front door wouldn’t work, but there had to be a side exit open. He could just sneak back and join his friends. He was good at getting through a crowd without being noticed.
On that thought, he put his hoodie up over his already-soaked head and broke into a trot through the wet grass around the outside of the hotel. He passed the back doors with their lineup of catchment containers and went on along the brick walkway toward the breezeway that had connected the main lodge area with the section making up rooms.
The breezeway had been hacked through to keep the fire in the rooms section from spreading, and Nick spotted a side door next to the breezeway’s splintered infrastructure. He leaned on the push bar, but the door was locked.
The rain was coming down harder, soaking his clothes, and he really wanted to get inside now. He reached up into the opening that had been hacked into the breezeway and hoisted himself inside, careful of the splintered wood and blackened ash.
The roof remained on the breezeway, and there were about six feet of covered area before another door with a push bar that led inside. He pushed on the brass bar gently and quietly, easing it open just an inch, so he could orient himself to the interior.
It was dim inside, the only illumination coming from the windows and the heavy cloud cover cutting that natural light down considerably. Fortunately, the door into the breezeway was separated from the main lobby by a foyer-like room with restrooms on either side of it. Nick could hear the murmur of voices inside, but there was no one in the foyer.
He eased inside and then, hoodie well up over his head and back hunched in a universal don’t-look-at-me teen posture, he slouched into the main room, drifting along among the groups as if headed somewhere slowly but definitely. And he was headed somewhere.
Nick entered the group of young people around Kevin with smooth grace, materializing alongside Zune.
“Hey,” he said in a low voice.
“Dude!” Zune exclaimed, and everyone spotted Nick now.
“Keep it quiet, please. I don’t want to get thrown out again,” Nick whispered, and his friends clustered close but kept their voices down. Ash snuggled against his side, patting his sweatshirt.
“You’re all wet.”
“I know. So who is that jerk in the purple shirt?”
“Name’s Kent. Says he owns stock in this hotel so that makes him part owner. And yeah, he’s an a-hole,” Ash said.
“He seems to be running things okay, though,” Zune said. “He organized different teams to do stuff. We have cleaning and kitchen duty every other day, and there’s a group foraging on the grounds and in the village for food.”
“So he wasn’t just stealing the food?”
“No. We pool everything, and the team on KP cooks the meal. We all eat, and we all get a portion.”
As if agreeing with this idea, Nick’s st
omach rumbled. “When is the next meal?”
“You don’t need to know.” Nick recognized Kent’s voice just a second too late to make a break for it as the big golf-shirted man and his burly sidekick grabbed him by the arms and hoisted him up.
“Hey, Kent. This is our friend! He helped us get off the plane!” Ash cried, grabbing for Nick. “He’s a good guy!”
“We don’t have food for the people we have, let alone a kid who got here with locals. He can find somewhere else to scrounge a meal.”
“Let go of me!” Nick snarled, struggling. Instead, the men dragged him to the front door and, once again, he was humiliatingly ejected.
His arms were sore and his cheeks hot with humiliation as he picked himself up off the steps, feeling the familiar gut-ache of rejection.
He stood, pulled his hoodie back up, and walked down the steps and out into the gracious turnaround driveway, trying to calm his ragged breathing and jagged emotions. A few hundred yards away from the building, he paused under the dripping branches of a pine tree lining the driveway to consider his options.
He could go back into town and look for shelter with the Apucans. Something told him that, though the parents might be okay with him crashing, Jaden would find a way to make him regret it.
He could try to find someone else to shelter him in the town.
Or he could go down to the beach and look for the fishing shack Bea had told him about. She was planning to go there, and maybe that was a way to see her again.
Besides, he’d had about all the company of other people he could take.
Making up his mind, Nick went over to a nearby trash barrel and looked around inside for anything useful. Finding a couple of quart-sized water bottles, he jogged back to the building and filled them at one of the downspouts.
Unfortunately, there was nothing to eat in the trash can, but maybe he could catch something at the beach. His stomach growled loudly, casting a vote.
He wished he had his backpack, but it was back at Bea and Sam’s house with the gangsters. Inside he’d had a lighter, a big packet of beef jerky, a spool of potentially useful duct tape, a couple changes of clothes, and the small bedroll sleeping bag he’d never been without since he went into foster care.
Putting his head down so the rain didn’t hit him in the eyes, he headed up the road out of town.
Bea got herself under control, looking across the miles of blue-water channel to Molokai. She missed her aunt with a sudden visceral longing. She could almost feel Aunty Hilary’s strong arms around her, hear the slightly husky alto voice: “When you goin’ stop growing, girl?”
Her aunt always smelled of Monoi Tiare coconut oil, which she used to keep her supple brown skin beautiful. She was the closest person physically to Angel Whitely that Bea might ever see again, and just thinking of her aunt made Bea’s eyes prickle with all the tears she kept inside behind that wall.
Their Uncle Buzz was dear, too, a gruff, barrel-chested fisherman who never, for a moment, made her feel anything but loved. They usually went to Molokai for several weeks in the summer, taking the ferry over and shoehorning in with their cousins—but they hadn’t gone this year. Dad had said he couldn’t spare them from the chores, but Bea knew he was afraid they’d want to stay with the Kanekoas.
Aunty and Uncle had their own children, their cousins Keala and Aukai—but Bea and Sam knew they had a special place in the Kanekoa home. Maybe the boat idea wasn’t so crazy. Maybe they were supposed to get over there, and if Beosith thought they could make it—maybe they should try. Her `aumakua hadn’t steered her wrong so far.
She turned back to the mountain of luggage. The survivors had probably taken all that was useful out of it, but maybe there was something there that could help with the boat.
Jaden eventually joined her as she rifled through the mountain of duffel bags, suitcases, and golf club sets. He held a brace of sturdy webbing up. “I cut off these seat belts. They seem useful. And look at this.” He held out a compass, an apple-sized plastic orb floating in liquid. “I found this in the cockpit. I think they brought this in separately. It attaches with a suction cup.” He showed her how the orb swung in a little frame with the suction cup on the bottom.
“Cool.” Bea gestured to a small pile she’d begun. “Some of these clothes could work for your family. I’ve got another pocket knife, and check out this rope.” She showed him a coil of tightly woven rope and a packet of pitons. “Someone must have been planning to do some climbing.”
They were energized by these useful discoveries, and Bea squelched down a feeling of guilt as she dug through a suitcase of women’s clothing, selecting anything that could fit the Apucan girls.
This was salvage, not stealing—and the plane people would have taken anything they could use already.
Ready to return, Bea sat on the horse and settled the bundle of salvage on top of her thighs as Jaden slung the fish bags on either side of the mare. Suddenly, Rainbow snorted, lifting her head in alert.
“Hey!” they heard, followed by a familiar bellowing bark that shot a jolt of adrenaline straight to Bea’s heart.
The pit bull.
The LCBoyz must be coming to check out the wreck, and now Jaden and Bea had been found.
Beosith! She thought frantically.
The dragon sent her a picture of a deep ocean cave, fish scattering before him. I’ll come as fast as I can.
He was nowhere nearby.
Jaden tried to climb up behind Bea, but she had her hands full as the mare half reared, neighing.
“Grab on, Jaden!” she cried, as she struggled to hold the horse in while fighting her own terror—the dog was coming for them, a brindled missile running down the beach. Jaden leaped up, wrapping both arms around her waist in a desperate grab, and Bea clapped her heels against the horse’s sides. “Yah!”
The mare bolted down the hard track. Bea felt her belly tighten, her shoulder blades tingling as she bent low, terrified of a gunshot. She clutched Rainbow’s mane as the mare hurtled down the road, accelerating to a full gallop. The salvage items formed a hard ball Bea wrapped herself around, hunkering down close to the horse’s neck.
She could feel Jaden’s panicked struggle to stay on the horse as he bounced around behind her. The only thing he really had ahold of was her waist, but she felt his arms tighten as he pulled himself up and settled his legs behind hers on the riding blanket.
The fish bags bounced against the horse’s sides and Bea wished she could take the time to drop them, lighten the load for the mare, who continued a frantic pace, turning to follow their familiar trail uphill.
Bea could hear the dog barking. It was still following.
Jaden tugged at the rifle slung across her back, one of his arms still banded around her. “Give me the gun.”
Bea straightened up, unslinging the rifle. The mare was tiring, gusts of breath heaving through her, blowing heavily. Her head pumped with the effort of packing two while running uphill on the rugged trail, and sweat darkened her neck and shoulders.
Jaden levered the rifle to cock it, and Bea felt him turning, one arm still around her waist. She glanced back down the trail, and the dog was still following—it had stopped barking and its tongue hung out, but it was still after them, pig eyes gleaming.
Jaden tightened the rifle against his side, swiveled awkwardly around, and Bea heard the crack of the modest report.
“Dammit. I missed.” He aimed again. “This won’t kill him, but maybe it’ll make him stop following us.”
“Do it!” Bea said, as Rainbow dropped into a trot. The mare was close to giving out.
Crack!
This time, when Bea turned to glance back, she saw the pit bull’s hindquarters retreating downhill.
Sam hobbled out of the house as fast as he could when he saw Bea and Jaden walking back on either side of the sweat-darkened horse.
The day of chores and togetherness with the Apucans had begun to wear thin, and he was surprised at how happy he was
to see his sister’s face, pink across the nose and cheeks from a day at the beach—even overcast and rainy as it had been.
“What did you get?” he asked, as he took the bulging bags they handed him, lifting them off the horse.
“We got chased by the LCBoyz,” Jaden said. “Other than that, a good fish score on the reef, and we salvaged some stuff from the plane wreck.”
“Oh my God,” Mrs. Apucan said, coming out on the porch and wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “You kids okay?”
“Thanks to Bea’s rifle, yeah,” Jaden said, nodding to the .22 slung over Bea’s shoulder. He lifted the fish bags off the horse while Jeremy grabbed Jaden’s heavy backpack. “Let’s get the fish sorted and we’ll tell you all about it.”
“We should rinse the net,” his younger brother Jeremy said.
“Can you do it?” Jaden asked. “I’ll do the fish.” He headed for the garage sink while Jeremy carried the net to one of the rain barrels that had a tap at the bottom.
The Apucans dispersed as smoothly as a well-oiled machine, leaving Bea and Sam alone with the duffel of salvaged items she’d gathered at the crash site. She led Rainbow, head hanging, into the backyard, gesturing for Sam. She looked around, apparently checking that they were alone.
Bea’s brows were drawn together over her green eyes. A few freckles that appeared with the sun had broken through her tan, and her thick, unruly hair was barely contained by the braid. She knelt and unzipped the duffel bag, showing him various items. “I want us to think about getting a boat together and going to Molokai. I want to get to our family over there. They have the ranch, and there’s more food, and they can protect us if things get worse.”