Destiny Defied (The Destiny Series)

by Marx, J. A.

  “My fingers have forgotten what a computer keyboard feels like.” Sabio stretched out on the rim of the basin. “If Stacy were here, we’d cruise up and down the beach on my Harley.”

  “Uh huh.” Barely digesting the name Stacy, Isaac narrowed his eyes on Jase.

  The musician tossed Hope a dry T-shirt out of the guitar case. “Would you mind wearing that?”

  Please, God, make her put it on. To Isaac’s relief, she slipped into the shirt.

  “If Hope hadn’t noticed the bridge,” Sabio whispered, “I wonder if any of us would have.”

  Isaac slipped back into the water once Jase and Hope started singing. “Clever enough to detect a hidden bridge but blind to people’s appearances.”

  The scholar blocked the sun and peered at him. “Meaning what?”

  Isaac splashed him. “Mr. Hispanic supermodel.”

  Groaning, Sabio closed his eyes and continued sunning. According to Stacy, his supermodel image made girls lower their sunglasses for a clearer view. An observation Sabio apparently forgot.

  Isaac squirted water through his clasped hands. “Hope hasn’t commented once on your trend-setting goatee or gold earring.” More of Stacy’s descriptions.

  “Silencio!” Sabio looked toward the singing duo before turning his attention to Isaac. “What’s your explanation for her deficiency in female awareness?”

  Isaac shrugged. “All I know is she hasn’t batted an eyelash at anyone since her arrival.”

  “Which I appreciate. Let’s keep it that way.”

  The music stopped. Isaac hopped up to check.

  Jase and Hope relocated to the grass between the boulders, out of sight. Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer clouded the warmth. Christmas in May?

  On the other hand, singing Christmas songs might help Hope remember her past. Isaac was eager to know her true identity.

  “Think Kiko’s lost?” Sitting up, Sabio glanced at his watch.

  Isaac spotted the Asian stomping his way through the trees. “Where’ve you been?”

  “Takin’ care of business.” Akiko glared toward the singers. “Kill the Yuletide music!”

  Who gave him grumpy juice? Isaac pointed at his shoulder. “Explain the black handprint.”

  Akiko tapped the smudge with his finger then jumped into the basin and washed it off.

  Swimming closer, Isaac studied his friend. If they hadn’t been eating so much fruit, he’d accuse Akiko of constipation. “What’s been eating you?”

  “Fakers.”

  Harmonizing her alto with Jase’s bold tenor came naturally for Hope. Singing proved almost as salubrious as building castles.

  The musician switched to his personal compositions, acting as though she knew them.

  “A red-nosed reindeer?” She giggled at the surprisingly unsophisticated lyrics.

  Didn’t matter. Jase’s songwriting talent still amused her. She folded her legs to her chest and leaned her head against the rock. Picturing Frosty the Snowman, she got stuck at the corncob pipe. Her imaginary snowman had clamshell eyes and a pineapple crown for hair.

  “You’re not singing.” He plucked the strings softly. “You don’t like krismuss music?”

  She smiled at his lopsided smile. “What do you mean by krismuss?”

  His fingers froze, and he stared. “Jingle bells jingling all the way?”

  She shook her head.

  “Santa Claus?”

  He didn’t write these songs? “You talk like I should know krismuss.”

  Jase gestured with his strumming hand. “The whole universe knows that holiday, Hope. It’s when we celebrate the birth of our savior. In December. People exchange presents. Drink egg nog.”

  None of the descriptions aided her memory scanner, but his enthusiasm roused her interest. “How do you spell it?”

  “C-h-r-i-s-t-m-a-s. The best holiday of the year. How about elves dressed in green? Good cheer. Evergreens decked with ornaments.” He wiggled his fingers high in the air. “Hanging lights?”

  “Elves?” She would have laughed had Jase not sounded so serious.

  His eyes narrowed on her. “Do you know about U.S. Independence Day?”

  She returned a sharp gaze. “America’s freedom from England’s rule.”

  “Cinco de Mayo?”

  She smirked. “Mexico defeats the French, 1862.”

  “Labor Day?”

  He’s cross-examining me. Hope rolled her eyes. “1872. Inspired by the Canadians who demanded an eight-hour workday. Those are national holidays, McFly.”

  “How about Easter?”

  Stumped at last, she pondered the word. “Give me a clue.”

  “Bunnies and eggs. A cross.”

  Bunnies didn’t lay eggs. She nudged his guitar with her finger. “You’re joking. Or is it Australian?”

  His what’s-wrong-with-you stare implied her ignorance.

  She kicked his shin, lightly but seriously. “I may not remember my family, but don’t try to fool me into believing that your Christmas is a global holiday.” She regretted ever confessing her amnesia. “How did you call it? The birth of a what in December?”

  “The true Swedish Fish savior. Jesus Christ.”

  Hope’s solar plexus erupted with violent spasms. She clutched her midsection and muffled her shriek into a squeak.

  “Hope?” Jase’s voice barely registered.

  The spasms stopped abruptly. She could breathe, but dizziness distorted her vision. Realizing she was hunched over, she straightened out her tingling torso. Drew in another breath. “Just a muscle cramp.”

  Massaging away the ping-pong aftereffects in her abdomen, she wished Jase had never witnessed that attack.

  “Should I get Isa—”

  “No!” She scooted farther behind the boulder, hiding from the threesome’s line of sight.

  “Did you feel that poof of energy?” he said. “Like a sci-fi force field.”

  Science fiction fit. Not that she’d acknowledge that.

  Her face felt too hot. Was probably red. “Bells and elves. What an interesting holiday. Can you sing another song?”

  Looking at her as if she were nuts, Jase strummed slowly. He sang another unfamiliar melody. “O come, all ye faith-ful ... Joyful …”

  Desperate to prove she was well—and normal—she hummed along softly. She missed the harmonic tones but hopefully got enough right to fool him.

  “… O come let us adore him …”

  Energy built up around them. No … please.

  “Oh come let us adore hi-im.” His voice cracked. “Chri-ist, the Lord—”

  Pierced by burning prongs, Hope doubled over. Her forehead smacked against Jase’s knee. The fork-like tines then ripped back out of her, blinding her with dizziness. She muzzled her whines.

  A hand pressed on her shoulder. “Hey.” Jase lifted her off his leg.

  Knees stuck in tucked position, she huddled against the boulder.

  “Another muscle cramp?” He patted her knee.

  She massaged her solar plexus. Her vision was blurry, but she thought she saw fear on his face. Had he been attacked, too? “Yeah.”

  “I don’t think it’s a cramp.”

  Since when did musicians start making diagnoses? Building up energy to tell Jase off, she sneered.

  “You rest. I’ll play some instrumentals.” The kindness in his voice bathed and hugged her.

  Hope disliked hugs. But she did let his unfamiliar music alleviate the burden of her blank memory.

  Chapter 20

  Isaac put on his T-shirt and straddled a boulder. The sun glimmering off the falls in the background and his best friends close by made an ideal lunch setting. He wolfed down two sandwiches, celery sticks, and a fist full of almonds then looked hungrily at the empty plastic bag. “We should’ve made double-deckers.”

  Hope pointed at the pocketknife he’d left near his shoes. “May I borrow that?”

  Why? She had no need. And no way did he want her using his knife to shave
her long legs that were starting to stubble.

  Before he could answer, she disappeared with his blade and returned with four brown, elliptic-shaped fruits.

  “Try a sapote.” She tossed one to each of them and returned the pocketknife.

  Well, aren’t we resourceful. Isaac carved through the leathery rind and cut out a slice of the melon-red flesh. His tongue tasted sweet, pumpkin, cherry. “A lot of flavors at work here.”

  Akiko left his sapote on the grass and inched over to Isaac. “What if it’s poisonous?”

  Grasping his own throat, Isaac bulged out his eyes and fell over.

  “Ize!” Akiko caught him.

  Playfully slugging the Asian’s arm, Isaac laughed. “It’s not poison.” Eating two sapotes satisfied his hunger.

  “Open sesame,” Jase said.

  Suspicious of the frisky bantering, Isaac zeroed in on the activity three boulders away.

  Jase held a sampling of his private sugar stash in front of Hope’s mouth. “Fresh bait?”

  She giggled. “I thought you were the Swedish Fish protector.” Biting the bait out of his hand, she sported the same childlike pleasure as she had with Isaac when they’d read Charlie Brown.

  Bristling, Isaac rammed his feet into his shoes. “Let’s show Hope how she got here.” He raised his voice so Jase couldn’t miss it. Hurriedly packing the picnic waste into the backpack, he fished out the two-way radios. He attached one to his hip and covertly handed the second to Sabio. “Bring up the rear. Keep an eye on Jase.”

  Giving him a thumbs-up, Sabio clipped the two-way to his trunks.

  “We’re taking a shorter route.” Isaac signaled the crew to advance.

  Forsaking the main trail, he pioneered an Indiana Jones route to the sea. The lower they descended, the tighter the leafy labyrinth packed them in. Vegetation tangled with Isaac’s limbs. Thankfully, no rolling boulders threatened to flatten him.

  “Shorter path?” Jase disentangled his guitar case. “I vote we send Isaac in for more navigation training.”

  “I second.” Akiko sneezed. “Is this how you led student council in high school?”

  Isaac brushed a spider web from his face. “You whiners have no sense of adventure.”

  Enduring the stuffy, humid air clogging his lungs was worth it. The flirting stopped. At the base of Mt. Merhamet, he skirted a mangrove village and steered everyone onto the beach. Spacious terrain. Breathable air.

  Akiko collapsed and kissed the sand. “Long live the king! We are, again, free men.”

  Roping an arm around drama boy’s neck, Isaac teasingly squeezed.

  The two-way radio crackled. “Operation jungle safari executed with pleasure. Requesting a repeat. Over.”

  Hope? Isaac noticed Sabio patting down his waistline to find the second two-way. Keeping the wiggling Asian locked in one arm, Isaac detached the radio from his own trunks. “Copy that. State your identity and coordinates. Over.”

  Searching for the amnesiac, he did recall Hope maneuvering down the mountain with more agility than his friends—and without complaints.

  “Agent Amnesia. Lookout Tower, ten meters due north.”

  Isaac spotted her straddling a mahogany branch with her back against the trunk. He let Akiko go and trotted her way.

  Keeping up with him, Jase parked directly below her. “You were kidding about a repeat, right?”

  “Negative.” Tucking her T-shirt into her shorts, she hung upside down off the branch. “Think of the adventure. Taking the high road and swinging vine-to-vine through the trees.”

  Yes. Isaac surveyed the dense green mass from which they’d just escaped. “I like the way you think, woman.”

  “No way!” Akiko cried. “I am not going back up there.”

  “Wimp.” Speaking of up there, Isaac wheeled back around and puckered his brow at Hope. The limb suspending her was a yard above his head, and the trunk offered no lower branches to climb. How had—

  “How’d you get up there?” Jase stole Isaac’s thought.

  She motioned for him to approach, and the musician laid his guitar case in the shade. Face-to-face, upside down, she gripped the front of his tie-dye shirt. “Scaling tactics fall under classified information, McFly. If I told you, I’d owe you a lethal injection—Wait!”

  Her eyes widened.

  Even though she was talking to Jase, she had Isaac’s arm skin crawling.

  “Nobody. Move. A centimeter.” She tossed the radio.

  Isaac caught it, darting his gaze about in search of unseen dangers.

  Agent Amnesia planted both hands on Jase’s shoulders and flipped effortlessly off the branch. “Thanks for the boost, Music Boy.”

  Dang. Isaac had fallen for her prank. Cheeks warming, he turned away as she strolled past, down shore. Her innocent capering appealed to him more he dared to admit. He put away both two-ways and handed the backpack to Sabio. “Veni, vidi, vice?”

  Sabio slung the pack over his shoulder. “You could squeeze the answer out of me and ruin the anticipation of discovery. Or—”

  “Don’t tell me.” Regretting that he’d neglected his Latin studies in high school, Isaac continued probing the deficient mental archives for interpretation.

  They walked along the shoreline, serenading Hope with Beach Boys songs. Jase and Akiko harmonized on “Surfin’ Safari.” Sabio added his beatboxing talents while Isaac sang every line in a flat bass. Who in the wilderness cared if his singing stunk?

  The south shore came into view, and he called attention to the scattering of debris about a thousand feet in the distance.

  Hope unplugged her ears and grinned. “Race ya there.” She charged toward the wreckage.

  Race? Isaac took off without wondering, or caring, if his friends were game for competition. He sprinted neck and neck with Hope.

  Five hundred feet from the goal, she led him toward a row of boulders, hip-high to his six-foot-two frame. Leaping into the air simultaneously, they sailed over the rocky barrier.

  He slipped and skidded onto his butt. The sand up his trunks acquainted him with a unique, itchy experience.

  Worse, the amnesiac female had beaten him. She strolled his way, beaming.

  Here she comes to gloat.

  “I needed that.” She sounded equally winded.

  “To beat me? Or to run?”

  Leaning over him, she placed her hands on her knees. A healthy pink tinted her cheeks. “I didn’t beat you, Wild Man. It was a tie. I meant it felt good to run like that.” She twirled away and entered the garden of debris.

  Did she just call me Wild Man? He cracked a smile.

  The threesome caught up. Jase grabbed Isaac’s hand and hoisted him off the ground. “Was she fast or what?”

  He jiggled the sand out of his trunks. “Jot down sprinter for a potential identity.”

  Jase transferred the guitar case to his other shoulder. “Considering her hurdling and climbing abilities, and her fondness for your jungle safari, we should change her name to GI Jane.”

  That pleased Isaac.

  He ventured into the debris zone, greeted by another blackened stone. A closer look revealed a rat-like carcass bathing in its ashes. Someone’s poor attempt at barbecuing? He refused to think of it as an altar, the theory Sabio had proposed yesterday.

  While his friends spread out to investigate the wreckage, Isaac caught up with GI Jane. “Recognize anything?” He wanted to experience her excitement when she regained her memory.

  “Not yet. But I’m optimistic.” She made frequent stops to examine objects. Strips of wood. Door parts. Beams. Plastic scraps. Other unidentifiable remnants.

  Jase trotted up and handed her something. “Is this familiar?”

  Expecting to see an article of worth, Isaac frowned at the cracked, red poker chip.

  Hope flipped the chip over in her hand then grunted and walked away with it.

  Another flashback? Isaac wished she’d communicate with him. If females were born expressing their feelings, why
didn’t this one?

  Moving on, he came to a jagged-edged tabletop. He rocked it with his foot while his mind replayed yesterday’s rescue. Her bluish lips … pale face … death looming. He had filled her lungs, and she thanked him with the kiss of her breath against his cheek.

  “Hope!”

  Chapter 21

  Upon her first view of the wreckage, Hope tried to create a complete mental picture with the fragments. Nothing came together. Digging for feelings, she sought to attach emotionally to the scene. Again nothing. Were the Ohioans sure they’d found her here?

  She started a methodical search for evidence of an identity, of her devoted family. Any remnant of hope.

  The boys had split up, which suited her. No one hovered over her shoulder and disturb her concentration.

  Jase jogged up and placed a red chip in her hand. “Is this familiar?”

  Her insides knotted over the object. Time paused … Voices harassed her, undressed her. Groping hands threatened her.

  The memory dissolved. No face or source accompanied the repulsive sensations, but the aftereffect stuck like a leech. She tugged at her T-shirt, wishing it extended to her toes. Afraid of what she might find next, she shuffled reluctantly through the rubble.

  She tightened her fist, wanting to crush the offensive token, but desperation stopped her. This chip might be her sole connection to the past. Examining the loathsome thing again, she winced. I’m uglier than ugly.

  “Hope …!” The word taunted her for a time before she realized Isaac was calling her.

  I hate them. Her sudden hostility toward the Ohioans was unfounded yet overwhelming. Ridding her face of emotion, she pressed the chip against her palm and ambled toward the fervent foursome.

  “We found you on this.” Isaac tapped her alleged life raft with his foot.

  She scowled at the slab of teakwood that had failed to let her drown. “Guess I owe you for not leaving me here to rot.”

  No wonder Jase had given her his T-shirt at the waterhole. To hide her ugliness.

  The boys’ silence magnified her shame, her hostility. If they asked her to leave, she would. In return for their humaneness, she could at least give back their privacy. She’d sleep in a cave, and that way she wouldn’t spoil their entire vacation.