by Mirren Hogan
Unlike the humans. They walked inside and found the house as they’d left it. It needed cleaning, but that could wait. It usually did.
“Do you need any help?” he asked.
“Only to get the shortboard bagged up.” She threw its soft cover at him, and pointed to her closet. “I plan on surfing down in Puna as soon as I can extend my arm back over my head without crying.” Makani pulled a duffel bag down from the top of her dresser, and started piling clean clothes in, along with spare towels and wetsuits. She even threw a heavy winter jacket inside. “In case we have a chance to go up to Mauna Kea and see the snow. It usually starts to freeze up in a month or two.”
“It snows in Hawaii?” He’d found the board, pulled the board cover over it and was zipping it carefully. “I didn’t think it got cold enough.”
“Only on the highest peaks. So Mauna Kea, where we have the observatories, is where we go to snowboard. Or Haleakala on Maui.” She finished dumping clean clothes and other little necessities into the duffel, and sat down on her bed and flipped open her laptop. “Okay, packed and ready! Just let me shut down my business and we’re set to roll.”
“You have everything. Like Australia, but compact and with smaller spiders.” He tucked the board under his arm and grabbed her bag.
“Pretty much! And no snakes. I’d cry if we had snakes!” She tapped into Facebook, Twitter, Google+, and about five other social media sites to say she was closed for a sabbatical. Her website had a cheerful yellow banner plastered across the screen that read, “Surf’s Up, Gone on Vacation! Leave a Message.” That had been Annie’s idea, and Makani had never had a chance to use it until now. Closing the laptop, she grabbed the power cords and shoved them in her own pack, closed the windows, unplugged all her appliances and took out the trash. Grabbing the leftovers from the fridge, she slopped it together, threw it into a bowl and left it on the porch for the cats. The last thing Makani did was pour salt all around the doors and windows. One could never be too careful . . .
Throwing the empty salt container and trash into the can she left on the curb, she trotted back to the jeep and started the ritual.
“It’s almost too quiet,” Flynn remarked as the engine started to kick over. “Not that I’m complaining,” he added hastily. “It’s just . . . weird. You know?”
“After everything we’ve been through, a nuclear holocaust would be too quiet.” She kicked the jeep into reverse and backed down the driveway.
“I prefer this,” he replied. “It’s much less radioactive. Although it might be just about as hazardous.”
“Just wait till you see me on my motorcycle.” She sped down the road and started for the airport. Leaving the jeep at a friend’s auto shop, they caught a ride with one of the mechanics into HNL, with the promise someone would weld her door back on while she was away. Makani wanted to leave so badly. All of the craziness, the fear . . . she just wanted to have quiet moments, again. Maybe on the Big Island, where there was nothing but the ocean and land, they could find a few?
CHAPTER 11
It was an uneventful flight. Makani actually squeezed in a cat nap that did her wonders. She was glad that she’d given Flynn the window seat. The scenery was quite breathtaking, going over Molokai and Maui. Pain and exhaustion finally caught up to her, and the dreamless sleep was more restful than she could have dared hoped for.
They were picked up by the plantation manager, a burly man by the name of Manuel, who preferred to be called Manny. He’d been a part of the coffee farm when her brother purchased the land a decade back, and his position on staff had been a part of the deal. It worked in everyone’s favor, though. The surprisingly gentle giant was competent and intelligent, often drawing profits where one wouldn’t think there could be.
The drive down south along the coast provided a view much like desert on one side, littered with murals done in white and gray stones declaring someone’s love, pride in their graduating class, or mimicking traditional petroglyphs. The sun painted the low cliffs and plains orange and gold. Makani felt just a little easier; being somewhere without a large city, few houses and even fewer creatures that her mind may or may not have produced, seemed idyllic.
They were installed in a quonset hut at the edge of the plantation that had finally been equipped with working lights and Wi-Fi access. They were shit out of luck for cable television, but from what Manny had told them, there would be little time for that if they were going to be working the coffee fields. The outhouse had been converted into a real working toilet the year before, but the old Japanese bath house had been kept as it was. The toads and frogs could be stopped from invading their privacy in the wooden structure, but only if one remembered to close the door going in and coming out.
“So . . . whadda ya think? Kinda cool, right?” Makani dropped her duffel bag and backpack on the floor, stretching her sides out gently.
Of course, there was more to the island than beaches that doubled as movie sets, but few people bothered to come to places like this. It was exactly why Flynn had come to Hawaii and why he’d brought his camera. The pleasure on his face was worth the hassle to bring him here. He’d documented the journey from Oahu in photographs, but she’d reminded him to come out from behind the lens once in a while to see for himself.
“It’s bloody awesome.” His accent sounded stronger when he was excited like he was now. “Thanks for bringing me.”
She shook her head, “Thank you for coming. It’s not every day I find someone who wants to be slave labor for my family.” She moved closer to Flynn, wrapping her arms around his middle, and buried her nose in his chest. “This is one of the last places anyone would think to find us. So, you’re safe from your family, I’m safe from mine . . . and any other things we might have left behind us.”
“I’m not safe while we have a phone signal.” He kissed her hair. “Unless I put it on vibrate or ignore it. I’ll have to call my mum at some point—” Just then, the phone rang in his pocket. “Speak of the devil . . . .” He pulled out the phone and glanced at the screen. The incoming call was from someone called Lily. He pressed “ignore” and put the phone back into his pocket.
She raised an eyebrow. “What? Not gonna let her know you’re alive and well on a strange island with that strange local girl who’s got you hooked?” Who the hell was Lily?
He matched her raised eyebrow. “What? Are you jealous?”
“No . . . ” She pursed her lips and pulled them to the side. Might as well be honest, since there was a good chance they’d be stuck together in this hut for a while. “Okay, maybe. But remember—
there’s only one bed in here, and a really smelly love-seat. Choose your response carefully.”
“I—” The phone rang again. He took it back out and looked at the screen again. Lily was nothing if not persistent. “I should get this, she won’t stop ringing if I don’t.” He pressed “accept” and put the phone to his ear. “Lily, how nice of you to ring. No, it’s not too late . . . ” He stood still and listened for a few long moments. “Yes, they’re fine. They should be home by now. He glanced toward his watch. “I’m sure Emma would appreciate it if you went over there, you know how she is . . . Okay, give Jack a cuddle for me. Yeah, love you too, bye.”
He ended the call and put the phone away again. “Now, where were we?” He tried to look nonchalant, but she knew him better than that by now.
Makani tapped her foot on the bare wood floor, thinking for a second. She made an educated guess about the identity of the caller, “Lily is your other sister?”
He hesitated for a moment, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Then apparently, he reconsidered the sleeping arrangements and nodded. “Yeah. Lily is the normal one. And my nephew Jack is pretty cool. Although his middle name is Flynn, so it’d be expected, right?” He smiled.
“Oh, of course.” She got on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek in apology. “No one in my family would be crazy enough to name any of their kids after me.”
“I suppose
it is a lot for any kid to live up to,” Flynn said. “Lily’s probably regretting it now. She’ll have Mum and Emma telling her I’m a flake.” He shrugged. “It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever been called, I suppose.”
“Yeah, you’re the flake . . . even though you saved Emma and her family from certain painful dismemberment and consumption at the hands of nightmare monsters, and made sure they got home safely?” She sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back, looking up at Flynn.
“And not running back home to Mummy and Daddy afterward, trying to pretend it didn’t happen. And don’t forget dropping out of law school two classes before I was finished. And then trying to be a photographer and taking up with a hot Hawaiian babe,” he added.
Makani ticked off all of his points on her fingers, and shrugged. “At least that Hawaiian babe is decently self-employed and treats you right. You could do worse.” She reached out and grabbed his hand. “And you’re getting somewhere with your photography. They can’t complain about that.”
“They’ll be happy when I make my second million. The first won’t be enough, they’ll think it’s a fluke. Anyway, let’s go and look around. The less I have to think about them, the better.”
She used his hand to stand up. “You’re right. We came here to get away from craziness. Let me show you the layout of the farm, and the . . . interesting things hidden amongst the rows of coffee plants.” Makani led him to the door and started out to the fields.
“Well, that’s got my interest.” He laced his fingers with hers and squeezed gently. “It’s so quiet here.” No dogs, no cars. Chickens maybe, but not the usual sounds of congested civilization. No phone or Wi-Fi and it would be heaven.
“It stays quiet because no one wants to come this far out. There’s nothing but fields and rocks.” She led him into the hundred acres and started toward the hill in the center. “Now, don’t judge the people here, but—” she pushed a coffee plant to the side, revealing a cannabis bush growing in its shadow “—this is another part of the industry.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Just a wild guess that it’s not legal? Please tell me they don’t expect us to take some of that back with us. I don’t feel like being arrested and jailed, or deported.”
What people did on their farm was their business, as long as they didn’t want to make it his and Makani’s.
“Oh! No, no, no! We’re only here to work the coffee plants.” Her smile took a decidedly naughty turn. “Of course, if you ever feel the need to partake, one of the field hands or Manny will be glad to hook you up.”
“I’ll pass. Been there, done that at uni. It just puts me to sleep. Ironically, coffee wakes me up.” This place had everything. “Any more surprises?”
“Yeah. Come on.” She trudged slowly up the hill, her stride shorter than usual, but at least she wasn’t in pain. Above the tall rows of plants, they were treated to a view of the sky at sunset and the first of the evening stars, unobstructed by pollution, street lights, or even volcanic smog. “This is why I wanted to come here. Just for this.”
He inhaled, drawing in the fresh air. “Not just for this,” he reminded her gently. “But this is a good reason for being here. This is just why I can’t go home, to my old life. I figured there had to be more to the world than textbooks and getting wasted every weekend at parties.” He grinned, his teeth flashing. “Is that too profound?”
“Not at all. This is what it’s all about. Finding that peace, getting away from the crap. That’s why I wanted to come here.” Her eyes took in the sight, fingers twining with Flynn’s. “I didn’t want to leave home, but I can’t be where everything is. Does that make sense?”
“Totally. After this last week, we’re lucky to be here and not in psychiatric care. Or worse . . . at your family dinner.” He chuckled and put an arm around her. “As long as you’re with me, I don’t really care where we are, but this is pretty bloody good. Have I told you lately that I love you?”
“Nah, but you can say it again, Rod Stewart.” Makani turned around and pulled his mouth to hers for a long, slow kiss. “I love you, too.”
“I was thinking more of Van Morrison.” He kissed her back and tried not to hold her too hard. “He’s cooler.”
“If you say so.” Her fingers ran through his blond hair and she smiled softly up at him. “Now, wanna see more of this place, or do you wanna stay here and . . . y’know?”
“We have plenty of time to see the rest of the place.” His reply was immediate. “But are you okay to?” His face was full of concern as he looked down at her. She probably looked like she’d been through . . . what she’d been through.
“Just don’t try to bend me into anything from the Kama Sutra.” She pulled him down onto the ground and rolled on top of him. “But you might want to hurry, because the Vicodin might wear off soon.”
“Well, that’s a turn on.” He grimaced. “Maybe we should just cuddle?”
She growled. “For reals? You’re gonna turn down a willing, albeit wounded, woman?” She tried to look mad, but her scowl collapsed into a silly grin. “Fine. But you owe me one.” She curled into that magical spot at the crook of his arm and sighed.
“I’ll be happy for you to call that debt in at any time.” He put his arm around her and used his other hand to pull a stick out from under his rear. “I just don’t want to have to spend another night in a hospital chair. It wasn’t that comfortable.”
“I can’t make promises.” Her smile deepened and she looked up at the sky, letting herself get lost in the stars for a few moments.
“I never asked for promises,” he said softly, his gaze following hers, trying to find familiar constellations. “I couldn’t ask for anything more than this moment.”
She sighed softly in complete agreement, not wanting to think about the future. She blinked as a shadow crossed the sky, blocking out some of the stars.
“Please tell me there are lots of bats here?” he asked suddenly. Evidently, he’d seen the same thing.
Her voice was filled with brittle hope when she responded, “Ummm . . . there are owls. Maybe it was just an owl?”
“Right, an owl,” he agreed, equally hopeful. “A really big one, back from delivering a message to Hogwarts.”
A really, really big one. With a huge wingspan. And a body the size of a five-year-old child.
“We should get back inside. Now.” No knife. No lighters. No salt. They were exposed. Makani got to her feet slowly, clutching her side. She held Flynn’s hand tight, and tugged him up, hissing in mild discomfort.
She stayed close to him, mindful that he was taller than her. If anything went for them from the air, it’d get him first. That thought heightened her fear tenfold. Something rustled in the tree behind them, and she almost tripped over the ground in her haste. Flynn drew her upright, all but pushed her into their room and staggered in behind her.
“I think we should turn in for the night. Manny will want us awake early . . . ” Makani looked up in terror as something clattered on the tin roof above them. She moved closer to Flynn, hand wrapping around the hem of his shirt and holding on tight.
“Yeah . . . turn in . . . ” He looked up, as if he could see through the ceiling.
She could feel him shaking, or was that her own nerves jangling? The sound grew louder, a scratching and scraping against rusty tin that had seen better days. Flynn moved them deeper into the room, out from under whatever it was.
Makani huddled against Flynn while her eyes tracked the noise above. This was exactly what they had come to escape. Why did it have to follow them? “This is ridiculous. What the fuck is that?”
“Do you have possums in Hawaii?” he asked. “Big cats, maybe?” He jumped at a loud squawk directly above their heads. “What the bloody hell?”
She pursed her lips and gave a quizzical look. “Was that a squawk? Seriously?” She loosened her death grip on Flynn and backed up a step, listening again. The same sound came from the roof. “Do you think we should see what our �
�monster’ is?” Her eyes slid over to him in bemusement.
He opened his mouth to reply and inhaled as he hesitated. “I suppose we should, but I’m going to be pissed off if it’s a death chicken.”
“Chickens can get on the roof.” She shrugged and picked up a portable lamp, unplugging it from the wall. “If you get the door, I’ll beat the shit out of it. Then, we can have death chicken for dinner tomorrow.”
He grinned. “Mmm, death chicken! Let’s roast it!” He turned the knob and stepped outside.
Makani peeked around the corner, looked up . . . and laughed. Something large and white scrabbled away from the light of the lamp. “Look! It’s a damn seagull! How the hell did it get so far inland?” The bird couldn’t quite get its footing, and it clattered on the tin roof.
“I have no idea,” Flynn said, chuckling at the poor bird’s antics. “Maybe tomorrow we can catch it and take it to the beach somehow.”
He took a step back toward the shadows to get a better look. Something grabbed his arm. He tried to twist free, but the darkness swallowed him whole.
CHAPTER 12
Flynn disappeared into the trees, swallowed up by the night.
Startled, the seagull took flight and squawked off in the other direction.
Flynn’s muffled voice cried out, “Makani . . . ”
“Flynn!” She stood in shock for a second, before shaking herself out of the stupor. She started after him, following the sound of leaves rustling. Her side ached from the jostling it took as she tore through the rows of coffee plants, but she didn’t let up. She was unarmed, injured and alone. How was she going to help Flynn if she managed to catch up? All she knew was something had grabbed him. And she wasn’t going to let that something take him from her.
The silence was sudden and profound. It lasted for twenty rapid heartbeats, then a face appeared out of the trees. It was female, barely, all teeth and narrow, glaring eyes. Long black hair was wreathed in a mist of murky green, writhing like flames.