Unbelievable

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Unbelievable Page 13

by Callie Harper


  “S’OK,” I managed, barely a whisper. But she heard it. I knew because she collapsed down on me, her head on my chest, sobbing.

  “Don’t die,” she cried.

  “S’OK,” I repeated, finally managing to make one of my arms move to touch her back. I blinked open my eyes. Blinding sunlight and a pale blue sky without a cloud in sight. What was happening?

  “Are you all right?” she asked. I tried to raise my head. It pounded and ached, and I sank back with a groan and a wince. It felt like I’d been hit with something. “Don’t die!” she repeated.

  “Course I’m not going to die.” I managed to get my other arm up around her. It felt like it was made of lead. “I’m gonna get you naked in Fiji.”

  She started laughing, big sobs mixing with her inhales. “That’s what’s on your mind?”

  “Always,” I replied, honestly. But where were we and what was going on? I opened my eyes again and it all came back in a rush. The pilot’s heart attack, the emergency water landing, our frantic paddling in the life raft.

  “Are you all right?” I asked, clutching her, searching her face.

  She nodded, wiping her nose. She had a cut on her chin and her right eye looked slightly swollen, but she seemed OK. I pushed myself up to sitting, groaning, bringing a hand to the back of my head.

  “You hit your head when we landed,” she told me, bringing her hand up to my face. “Let me take a look.” With gentle hands, she pulled apart the hair on the top of my head. I closed my eyes, hoping she wouldn’t find a gash. If we’d managed to secure a first aid kit along with us into the raft—and that was a big if—who knew if it would have what we’d need to stitch me up? Or keep it sterile.

  “No blood.” She let out her breath with relief. “And can you move your legs?”

  I found I could, with great effort and concentration. They felt like they’d been run over by a steamroller, though. She burst out crying when she saw my movement.

  “Hey.” I drew her to me, pressing her face to my chest. “That’s a good thing.”

  “I know. I’m just relieved. I thought—” She sobbed again, clinging to me.

  “Was I passed out for long?” I asked, bringing my hand to her hair, soothing her.

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head, disoriented. “Where are we?”

  An excellent question. Ignoring the pain in my head, I turned to survey our surroundings. Lush tropical greenery opening to a white sandy beach. Not a person or a building in sight. The island might be long but it wasn’t wide. I remembered how hard we’d had to fight not to pass it by. I drew Caroline closer to me, stroking her back.

  “Don’t worry, we’re going to be all right.”

  “But, where are we?” she asked.

  “One of the islands around Fiji.” There were hundreds, the majority of which were uninhabited. “But I made contact with the control tower. And I set the transponder signal to emergency. They’re probably already out looking for us.”

  “What about the pilot?” she sobbed, her hands over her face. I wrapped her in my arms. I felt sick over him, too.

  “There was nothing we could do,” I told myself as much as her. “But, damn it, I should have been up there with him. I fucked up.”

  She made a sound of disbelief as she murmured into my chest, “You saved our lives.”

  “I should have checked on things sooner.” I couldn’t accept her gratitude, not before I’d served myself up some serious self-recrimination.

  “Colt, you landed us safely into open water, got us into a life raft and steered us to shore. With a head injury. I don’t think you need to beat yourself up.”

  I hugged her, too exhausted and emotional for words.

  “Thank you for saving my life,” she whispered.

  I held her and hoped what she said was true. We were on an uninhabited island, probably on the radar of a rescue crew. But nothing was certain. I just hoped I could do a better job of keeping her safe no matter what lay ahead.

  CHAPTER 12

  Caroline

  I didn’t know what time it was. The sun pounded down strong and hot from what seemed like directly overhead. But it seemed to stay directly overhead for way too long.

  “Don’t!” Colt cautioned me as he ventured out to assess what looked like a piece of debris, maybe from the plane. I stayed huddled underneath a cluster of palm trees in the shade. Shaking, not from cold but from shock, I sat down on the life raft. We’d pulled it and the contents we’d managed to take with us over to the shade as well.

  He walked back, dragging a jagged piece of metal.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Part of the plane.” He placed it to the side. “Watch out, it’s sharp.”

  “How’s your head?” When he’d blacked out on the shore earlier that day, I’d never been so frightened in my life. Even when the plane started to go down and I knew we were headed for an emergency landing, adrenaline and survival instinct had kicked in strong. But when we’d finally made it to shore and then Colt had lost consciousness, I’d nearly lost it myself.

  “OK.” He nodded in assurance, keeping his focus on the task at hand. “We need to take stock of what we’ve got. Help me lay it all out.”

  We had a wool blanket in the emergency pack that, thank God, had stayed fastened to the life raft. Sealed tight in a waterproof case, it had also stayed dry. I took out a First Aid kit with standard-issue bandages, sterile pads and antibiotic ointment. Colt insisted on taking a closer look at my jaw.

  “I think it happened when we hit the water.” It was hard to remember, my senses had been on such high alert. But I thought I recalled something coming down from above, maybe from an overhead compartment, and hitting me in the face.

  “I couldn’t get us slowed down enough.” He sounded angry at himself.

  As he gently dabbed at my chin, I touched his forearm. “You saved our lives.”

  He exhaled, seeming somewhat relieved after his closer look at my scrape. “It’s not bad.” He put a small Band Aid on it. “And you’re sure, nothing else hurts?” He looked at my arms and legs, still in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. They’d gotten soaked, of course, but now they weren’t dripping so much as soggy. Hot as it was, it was also humid.

  He had a cut on his side, again not a deep one, but I helped him clean and bandage it.

  “Do you think…” I tried to stay calm, but my voice wobbled as I began to ask the question. I swallowed and started again. “Does anyone have any idea where we are?”

  “Yes.” He sat next to me, taking my hands in his. “Caroline, I want you to understand. I made contact with the control tower before we went down. They got our coordinates and knew that we were making an emergency landing. I also set the transponder to the emergency code. Both will help a search and rescue crew find us soon.”

  I sobbed in relief. He’d told me before, but I’d been so overwhelmed I hadn’t fully processed what he had to say.

  “So it’s not going to be like Lost?”

  “The TV show?” He chuckled a bit and that sound reassured me even more than his explanation of the emergency contacts he’d made. If he was laughing, he really meant it. We would be found. “I don’t know. I never watched it. But, no, I don’t think we’re going to be lost long before we’re found.”

  I wiped the tears from my eyes and tried to smile. “So they know which island we’re on?”

  “No, not exactly. But they’ll be able to find out where the plane went down. Then they’ll circle out from there. There are a lot of little islands around here, but they’ll keep looking until they find us.”

  “That’s right! You’re super rich!” I declared, suddenly perking up. “They’ll want to find you. They won’t give up.”

  “I’d like to think they’ll look just as hard for you.” He touched my cheek. “But you’re right. The CEO of Kavanaugh Investors missing after a plane crash in the South Pacific. That’ll get people’s attention. So, don’t worry. They’ll keep
at it until they find us.” He gave me a kiss on my forehead. “Now let’s see if we have some water.”

  We got busy sorting through the contents of our emergency pack. Four Power Bars as old as time and hard as bricks. A thin, wool blanket plus the First Aid kit. Matches that had somehow gotten wet and looked like they weren’t going to do any good. No flares, which made Colt swear. But, still, we managed to strike gold.

  “Look at all the waters!” I kept pulling out the 16-ounce bottles and, like people out of a clown car, they kept coming. All totaled, we had eight of them.

  “That’s enough for one day for the two of us,” Colt warned me as I began to tear off a cap.

  “Really?” I’d read the advice in magazines, that we should all be drinking gallons of water every day. It would keep our skin youthful, etc. But did we really need that much for survival?

  “We need that much,” he nodded. “But I bet we have some coconuts around here, too. And maybe even some fresh water.” At my worried expression, he added, “Not that we’ll need it. I’m sure they’re already on their way.”

  “You should take a couple of Advil,” I suggested. I’d seen the way he’d jolted up against the roof of the plane when we’d first crashed into the water. The seatbelt had restrained him, but not prevented a hard bump.

  He brushed it off. “Let’s save it in case we need it. Something might start hurting on you yet.”

  As he spoke, I realized my ankle did throb. Nothing serious, but I still had a lot of shock and adrenaline running through me. I rested my face in my hands, drawing a deep, shaky breath. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “I should have checked on the pilot far sooner.” He shook his head, running a hand through his thick, dark hair. But then he stood up, dusting off his pants, clearly shaking off his negative thoughts as well. “There’s a chance we’ll need to spend the night here. Without a flare it’ll be harder for them to spot us. I want to see about gathering things for a fire.”

  “Do you know how to make a fire?” I must have sounded really surprised, because he looked down at me with an arched eyebrow.

  “Is that so hard to believe?”

  “Um.” I bit my lip, deciding on honesty. “Yes. I don’t see you as going out and doing much camping.”

  “I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” He rolled up his shirtsleeves as he spoke, still somehow managing to look suave and debonair after a plane wreck. Framed by the palm fronds, bright blue sky and white sand, he looked like he might be on a brochure for a resort. Except he was still wearing business clothes, his collared shirt and dark suit pants not exactly island-casual.

  “Are you feeling well enough to come take a look around?” he asked. “I want to stay close in case a plane flies by, but we should see what we can find.”

  I scampered to my feet, thoughts of a sore ankle forgotten in my desire to stay by his side. I wasn’t exactly a scaredy-cat—I’d been the one killing spiders and checking out spooky nighttime noises with a flashlight for years now—but I felt shaken to my core. For all of Colt’s reassurances, panic jostled right at the surface of my emotions. An exploratory walk seemed like a good distraction.

  “Your sneakers are OK?” Colt took my hand and led me out of the shade and up the beach. I nodded. They were soggy, like everything else, but in tact.

  My shirt clung to me and I thought about taking it off. But we hadn’t been stranded that long. I wasn’t about to strip down to my bra and undies. Yet.

  “It’s probably around 90 now.” Colt wiped his brow, helping me through the slippery sand as we climbed up to higher ground. “Tonight it’ll drop, but it shouldn’t get too cold. Maybe low 70s.”

  Thick vegetation clustered along the sand, every leaf a vibrant, bright green.

  “Perfect!” Colt bent down below a palm tree and picked up some brown, hairy things. “Coconut husks,” he explained, holding them up. “Great for tinder. Gather what you can find. And I’ll see if I can get us some coconuts.”

  I carried a couple of handfuls of husks down to our area, then worked with him to use dark branches to spell out HELP on the white sand. The man had a Swiss Army Knife. I’d never felt more grateful to have avoided airport security in my life. On a private plane, you could fly up in the air with any kind of knives you wanted right in your pocket.

  Fatigue set in fast. Before the sun even fully set, I could barely keep my eyes open. Colt insisted I eat a Power Bar and drink another bottle of water. He couldn’t find any coconuts down low enough to eat, but he did find a mango tree. The ripe, succulent fruit would have made me exclaim with joy if I weren’t so incredibly tired. I barely managed to put the pieces into my mouth before I dozed off.

  Until a sea plane flew by. That woke me up.

  “Hello!” we yelled, waving our arms frantically, running out onto the beach. “We’re here!”

  But they didn’t see us. Dusk had fallen. They were likely looking for flares or fires. In the dim light, they flew right past our message HELP.

  “They’ll come back,” Colt assured me.

  I was too tired to worry. I climbed into our life raft and passed out instantly.

  §

  The next morning twin sensations mingled, fighting for space in my confused brain. On the one hand, I ached. My shoulders and arm muscles, hands and jaw, everything felt stiff and was throbbing.

  But there was also the slight start of an ache and a throb of a different sort. My backside was pressed up against a warm, solid man, the smell of him enveloping me. Colt’s strong arm draped around my waist. He held me to him, keeping me secure and safe. It made me want to snuggle in deeper, wiggle into him and get even closer.

  “Morning.” He nuzzled my neck, pressing his hand to my hip, bringing me back against him. “This is a good way to start off the day stranded on a deserted island.”

  We were stranded! It all came back to me in a rush and I bolted upright, the blanket drawn up over us pooling at my waist.

  “The plane missed us last night!” I remembered it gliding right past, our words of HELP unnoticed.

  “I will try to find a volleyball for you today to name Wilson.” Colt rose much more slowly, rubbing his eyes. Even with bedhead from sleeping in a life raft, the man managed to look rakish and rugged. I couldn’t imagine I had the same natural glow. I probably looked like a sea witch.

  “How are you so calm about this?” I sounded exasperated, but I already felt more relaxed because he was.

  “Because they will find us. Soon. Believe me, we’ve survived the most dangerous part.”

  “We have?”

  He pulled me against him again. “The crash landing was bad. But surviving in the middle of the ocean is even harder. Now we’re here, safe and warm, in a tropical paradise.” He leaned down and kissed my neck. “And we have water. I bet you’re thirsty.”

  He left my side, heading outside our palm-frond haven for a moment. When he reappeared, he had two half-filled water bottles. “Drink.”

  “Did you fill these?”

  “I set them out overnight and it rained a little. March is the wettest month here.”

  I eyed him as I drank and, he was right, I was thirsty. “So what you’re telling me is we’re not going to die here?”

  “We’re not going to die here,” he confirmed.

  “And we’re in a tropical paradise?” For the first time in the hours since the plane crash, I felt a small bubble of excitement.

  “We are.” Colt grinned. “Would m’lady enjoy a fresh fruit platter for breakfast?”

  “Only if it’s organic,” I teased.

  “I can guarantee you, no pesticides or hormones were used in the growing or harvesting of these fruits.” He pulled me up to standing. “Come on. Let’s go see what we can find.”

  I held his hand as we exited our little hiding place under the cluster of palms, and saw he’d set up a line of water bottles wedged in the sand with their narrow tops cut off to gather more rain. A few even had large, V-shaped le
aves balanced into their spouts, helping any dew or precipitation flow in. Smart man.

  We tidied up our HELP sign on the sand—a few sticks had gotten blown out of place—and headed along the coastline. The vegetation inland looked thick and impenetrable, but the coastline stayed mostly flat. I didn’t want to risk injuring my feet so I resisted the temptation to take off my sneakers, but the sand looked just like white sugar. We couldn’t see any other ships or planes, but far in the distance we could make out the hint of another island.

  “See, we’re not in the middle of nowhere.” Colt pointed it out, never letting go of my hand.

  Around a curve in the coastline, we found more evidence to support Colt’s conclusion: a cave with some remnants from fishermen.

  “These aren’t even that old!” Colt declared, sorting through a tangle of netting.

  I found a broken bowl and a chipped cup and picked them up to take back with us, already in scavenger mode. But Colt suggested a switch instead, moving our life raft and possessions over to the cave. It would provide more shelter in case of heavier rainfall. And no sooner did Colt and I manage to carry the life raft on top of both of our heads down the coast and into the cave did the heavens burst open upon us.

  “Stale Power Bar?” he offered me as we settled down inside our shelter. It was about eight feet high at the mouth, curving in around ten feet deep.

  “Just what I wanted.” I thanked him, and settled easily next to him, feeling far too comfortable for a marooned plane crash survivor. But his nonchalant attitude was infectious.

  “When this rain ends I’m going to catch you some fish!” He clapped his hands together, then pointed over to the pile of netting. “There’s a couple of spears in there. My guess is somebody comes here to fish every now and then.”

  Colt was a man of his word. The rain let up soon and he prepared to head out on the hunt, wearing his dress shoes and slacks but shirtless. He was a mighty fine specimen, his chest and abs rippling with lean muscles.

 

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