Annihilate Me 2: Omnibus (Complete Vols. 1-3, Annihilate Me 2)

by Christina Ross

  “I also can help,” Blackwell said. “Jennifer has checked my head, and while I have this ridiculous bump near my left temple, it isn’t bleeding. Certainly, I can assist—even in ruined Chanel.”

  “Not before I look into your eyes,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “Because, if they’re dilated, you might have a concussion, which means you’re going to rest beside Alex. So, here—lift your chin for me. Let me look.”

  She acquiesced. Tank examined her, and then he smiled and kissed her on the forehead. “Tough as nails,” he said. “And you’ve kept your sense of humor. I’m glad for that.”

  “You won’t find a tougher broad on this beach, though Jennifer might give me a run for my money. As for humor—humor saves us. It always does—and it will now. That plane might have crashed and we might have lost our friends, but what would our friends want from us now? Grief? Yes. I’m filled with it. But they’d also want us to fight for our lives and get off this island, which we’ll do. I’m not giving up, and neither is anyone else. So, what do you need for us to do, Tank?”

  He looked up at the sky and squinted into the sun. “By my estimation, we have about seven hours to get something built. It will be dusk at that point. Whatever we build will be crude, but there’s still time to get it done. Tomorrow, we can strengthen it and improve upon it.” He nodded toward the boxes Cutter had carried out of the plane. “What are in those?”

  I told him.

  “So, our friend took good care of us…”

  “Of course he did. That’s who Cutter is.”

  “What kind of medical supplies are we looking at?”

  “You tell me. Come and have a look.”

  I opened one of the boxes. Tank peered inside, looked at each item, and seemed at least somewhat relieved when he was finished. “We’re good for awhile. What you all need to know is that supplies are limited. For instance, if any of you develop an infection, the supply to treat that infection will be gone in no time. That’s why we need to make sure that any of us who have wounds are treated for them now before they become infected.”

  Alexa came forward.

  “I said this while you were gone, Tank, but we are surrounded by plants on this island that have medicinal properties and can ward off a bacterial infection. Maybe not as well as a prescription drug, but if we treat any infection early, they’ll generally work. We just need to locate those plants. I know that they’re here. I also can identify them. Better yet, I know how best to use them for our needs, should they come.”

  “How do you know all that?” Daniella asked.

  “Unlike you, I pay attention in school. I read, Daniella. A lot. Textbooks—that sort of thing. I’m fascinated by how science intersects with horticulture. So, be grateful that your sister is a little tree hugger. Who knows—my interests and studies might just be of use to you while we’re on this island.”

  “It was just a question,” Daniella said.

  “And you got your answer.”

  “Why are you so pissed off?”

  “Because I can’t believe how you behaved on that plane.”

  And that sent Daniella straight into silence.

  “So, let me ask this,” Tank said. “How many of you have checked your phones and tried to get a connection while I was gone?”

  “All of us,” I said. “And to no avail. I don’t think there are any towers here. But at least we tried.”

  “That’s all any of us can do. I tried it myself while looking for Cutter. It was worth a shot.”

  “The plane’s black box,” Blackwell said. “Can we expect help anytime soon?”

  Tank’s expression turned grim.

  “There were two boxes on that plane. One at the front, in the cockpit with the pilots, and one at the rear, close to Jennifer and Alex’s bedroom. As we all know, one box is lost to us—it’s somewhere in the ocean, along with our friends. They didn’t die far from here, so there’s a chance that that box is actively sending out signals that will draw attention to us. At this point, it’s well known that we’ve crashed—I can promise you that. As for the other box, look at the rear of the plane over there—it’s ruined. There’s nothing left of it. Statistically speaking, the box should have survived the crash and the explosions that followed. The trouble is that we’ll never be certain whether it did.”

  “Do you think we’re alone on this island?” I asked.

  “I saw no signs of any human life when I searched for Cutter, but that doesn’t mean that we’re alone. There could be people here. I guess we’ll find out soon enough, because if there are people here, they heard us hit the island, and they absolutely heard the plane explode. Now, let me examine Alex’s throat. I’ve already seen the gash—and it could become infected if I don’t properly clean it and treat it. Give me a moment to do that, all right?”

  In silence, we watched Tank kneel in front of Alex, and remove his own shirt from Alex’s throat. Then, it was there for all of us to see. It wasn’t that the wound was deep. Instead, what surprised me was how wide it was. It was as if whatever had struck his throat had torn away a large flap of skin. With exquisite care, Tank lifted Alex’s chin and examined the wound.

  “Do you know what struck you?” Tank asked.

  “No idea,” Alex said.

  “The good news is that the cut didn’t affect your trachea, though it came close. Given the heat, infection could settle in. I’m going to take one of those bottles of water, rinse it clean, use some antibacterial ointment on it, and wrap your throat in gauze. We need to conserve water, but this is a necessary use of another bottle until we find a fresh water source tomorrow. We also have penicillin on hand should you need it. With the wound so fresh, time is on our side that we can beat the chances of infection. What worries me more is how much blood you lost. It was a considerable amount, which—along with the shock of the crash—is why I believe you went into cardiac arrest. Your body is going to need water and food to recover what you’ve lost. One of our top priorities is to provide you with both.”

  “Am I able to help you build our cover for the night?”

  “You had a heart attack, Alex. You’re done for today. Have you had anything to drink or eat?”

  “I haven’t.”

  “Your potassium is likely low at this point, which could put you back into cardiac arrest. I need you to listen to me, Alex. You do nothing until I say that it’s safe for you to do something.”

  Tank turned to me.

  “Jennifer, would you mind grabbing me two more bottles of water? And something to eat for Alex? I’ll get the ointment and the dressing for this throat.” He looked at me as he stood. “And when we’re finished, you and I need to talk.”

  * * *

  When Alex was tended to, Tank and I did talk—but not as part of the group. For privacy’s sake, he led me away from the others, only speaking when he was certain no one could hear what he had to say to me.

  “I’m concerned about you and the baby,” he said. “I don’t like that you’re up and moving around when you should be resting—just like Alex is.”

  “Alex went into cardiac arrest.”

  “And you might have lost your child.”

  Just hearing the words was like peeling away a part of me, but Tank was there to help me, so I tried my best to push past my emotions and listen to him.

  “I’m not sure that I did.”

  “Neither of us is sure. And because of that, you need to take it easy.”

  “I’ll do anything for my child.”

  “Then you need to do nothing—at least for now. Alexa, Daniella, and Blackwell are capable of helping, and so is Lisa. She’s getting stronger, and I suspect that by day’s end, she’ll mostly be back to herself.”

  “All that matters now is that we’re alive.”

  “Agreed. We’re very lucky. And we have each other.”

  “We do.”

  “I’m going to ask you some personal questions. I need to ask them.”

>   “I already know what you’re going to ask me, so ask.”

  “Have you checked your underwear for spotting?”

  “Blackwell asked me the same question a couple of hours ago. To be honest, I haven’t had the courage to look. I don’t want to find out what I already think I know.”

  “What kind of a response is that?”

  “A frightened one.”

  His face softened, and he put his hand on my shoulder as we walked down the beach. To our left, the ruins of the plane were still sending clouds of dark smoke into the air, which drifted past us in wavering veils of blackened soot.

  “I know this is difficult for you, but we need to check, Jennifer. If there is spotting, that doesn’t mean you lost your child. That said, if there is a lot of blood, I’m not going to lie to you. There’s a very good chance that you did lose it.”

  “I already think that I have.”

  “Why?”

  “Because of the cramping I experienced when we crashed. And the cramping that came after it.”

  “How severe was it?”

  “It was harsh at first, and after awhile, it eased up a bit.”

  “How harsh is harsh?”

  “I could barely breathe, Tank.”

  “Why don’t we go over there to the tree line, and you can have a look in private. If you need me to look at your panties, I will. But I think you can assess any minor spotting for yourself. The same goes if there is a significant amount of blood. You need to do this, Jennifer. For your sake and for Alex’s sake, you need to know where you stand.”

  “I don’t want to know. I’d rather focus on Alex and his health.”

  “Alex is going to be fine.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I think he lost about a pint-and-a-half of blood, which is more than what you’d give at a blood bank. I checked his shirt and his jacket, and I checked my own shirt, and I’m fairly certain about how much blood he lost. So long as infection doesn’t set in, your husband is going to be OK. Now, we need to know if the same is true for your child.” He motioned toward the jungle at our left. “We need to do this.”

  “I don’t want to know, Tank.”

  “You need to at least look. Have you even peed since we’ve been here?”

  “No, but I need to. You can guess why I haven’t.”

  “That’s the thing,” he said. “You’re going to have to look sooner rather than later. But I need for you to remember this—regardless of what you do see, we won’t know for certain if you’ve lost your child until a doctor assesses you. Whatever you see is not conclusive. Your child might still be alive. You need to remain hopeful for that.”

  “I also need to be ready to face the other reality.”

  “If you give up hope now, what good will you be to us and to Alex? You’ve got to remain hopeful, Jennifer. Right now, what do any of us have but hope?”

  I took a breath to calm my nerves. What he said was true. “Nothing,” I said.

  “Then let’s have a look. I’ll walk you to the edge of the jungle, you can move just inside and have a look in private, and then you can tell me what you saw.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “And I’m scared for you. Everyone is.”

  “Alex and I were going to wait two years before we had a child. We had it all planned out. We were going to enjoy our marriage first before we started a family. We were going to live our lives before we changed them by getting pregnant. But when we learned that we were pregnant, we both knew that it was for a reason. And I knew in my heart—just as Alex did—how much I wanted this child. How right and how perfect it was. We saw it as a blessing. I want it more than anything, Tank.”

  “I understand that. But you need to look. So, will you come with me? Just over here? I’ll give you the privacy you need.”

  A sense of dread came over me at the thought of looking, but I knew that, despite my fears, Tank was right. I did need to see for myself whether I’d spotted or hemorrhaged. “Lead the way,” I said. “But don’t stray too far.”

  * * *

  When we reached the jungle’s edge, I was a shaking, nervous wreck, which I tried to conceal—but to no avail.

  Tank saw it, knew it, and felt it. He gave me a gentle hug before I walked away from him, and stepped through the tall foliage and beyond a wealth of vines to a place that seemed private enough behind a towering palm tree. I looked up at the tree, and the way the palms hung down like an umbrella, they seemed to dip down to embrace me. It was odd, but the shade and the privacy the tree offered was somehow calming to me. It was as if nature was saying that everything was going to be all right.

  At least that’s what I took from it.

  Even though the sun had been out and baking the island for ours, the jungle was still wet from the storm. I thought of the boars again—and whatever else lurked in the wilds on this island—before I finally gathered the courage to unhook my ruined dress pants and pull them down to my knees.

  Before pulling down my panties, I just stood there in thought and in prayer. I prayed that there would be no blood. I prayed that the cramping I’d experienced earlier had been due to the sheer force of our landing, and for no reason other than that. I prayed for our child, for Alex, and for me. If we lost it, both of us would be heartbroken, but not destroyed. If anything, we’d try again for another child because the gift of this pregnancy had revealed to us just how much we wanted to start a family—even if we hadn’t known it at the time.

  Just get it over with.

  With a quick yank, I lowered my panties and examined them.

  Because my clothes were so soaked with water, it was difficult to tell if I’d spotted or hemorrhaged. But I had bled—there was no question about that. But how much blood was I looking at? A few drops that had spread due to being drenched by the rain? Or was there more than I wanted to admit? I couldn’t tell.

  I needed a second opinion, and as embarrassed and as shamed as I felt, that opinion had to come from Tank. I had no choice but to call for him.

  He came through the jungle only moments after I called his name.

  “I bled,” I said.

  “How much?”

  I shrugged at him. “That’s the thing,” I said. “I don’t know. I need you to see what I see. My clothes are still damp, and I can’t tell how much blood there is. Because of the rain, it’s spread out. I can’t believe I’m asking you this, but would you mind looking at my panties?” I felt a rush of humiliation as I repeated myself. “I can’t believe I’m asking this of you.”

  “I’m trained for this, Jennifer. Just hold your top down to cover yourself, and I’ll see nothing but your panties. I promise. That’s all I need to see. It will take only a moment, and then we’ll be done.”

  And he was right. Tank gave a swift look, and then he told me to pull up my pants.

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  “You’ve only spotted,” he said. “It’s possible that you haven’t lost it.”

  “You can’t be serious?” I said. “What about the cramping?”

  “I’m not saying that you haven’t lost it—I said that it’s possible that you haven’t. I have a lot of medical training, but I’m no doctor, Jennifer. What I’m saying is that what I saw is a positive sign. There’s no way that you’ve hemorrhaged—if you had, it would have been much worse than that. That’s the good news. That’s the best news. Now, we need to address the other issue.”

  “What other issue?”

  “How to protect you going forward.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  It was the cusp of dusk when Tank, Alexa, Daniella, and Blackwell finished our makeshift shelter just outside the jungle on the site where Cutter and Tank first carried us after we landed. Toward the end of the job, Lisa was feeling well enough to help out as well. When they were finished, the result was a good-sized hut made from the surrounding palm trees, which they had layered heavily at the roof of the hut so that we could get through the night sh
ould the rain come again. I felt guilty for not having helped, but each time I tried, I was warned away by all of them. I was told to sit down next to Alex, which I did.

  And when I did, I told him about my walk with Tank.

  “So, there’s a chance?” he said.

  “I don’t want to get our hopes up, but there might be one.”

  “Tank said you only spotted.”

  “Yes, but what he didn’t feel were the cramps that I felt. They were crushing at first. They were incredibly painful. And we’re only a month into the pregnancy, so how much blood would there be? I don’t have the answer to that question, but I know what I felt, and I need to be honest with you about it. I am going to remain hopeful about this, but we need to be realistic. We might have lost our child. We might have—”

  And that’s all it took—the moment I said those words, I started to cry.

  Alex swept me into his arms, and held me while I sobbed harder than I had since we’d landed. I started to cry so hard, that it became a heaving cry, which I knew wasn’t good for our child, should it indeed be alive. So once again, I forced myself to pull back—and to instead pull hard on my husband’s love and strength.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  He looked bewildered at me. “For what?”

  “For ruining our family.”

  “What are you talking about? Jennifer, you haven’t done anything. What you and I both need to be grateful for is that we survived that crash. And that most of our friends did. You need to put this into perspective. We could be dead. Those who are with us now could be dead. But we’re alive. We’re here for a reason. If we lose this child, we need to look at the big picture. Yes, it will be devastating. But we’ll try for another. I had thought I wouldn’t be ready to start a family so soon, but when you told me that you were pregnant, I knew at once that I wanted to start a family. If for some godforsaken reason that’s not to be, then we’ll start again. And we won’t wait two years to do so. Do you agree?”