The Tortured Rebel

by Alison Roberts

  ‘Yeah …’ Jet’s tone was wry. ‘We’re lucky. The eruption’s obviously over, for the moment at least, and we’ve got a good breeze behind us. Any volcanic ash is being blown towards the other side of the island. I’m hoping the settlement’s on this side, as well.’ He tugged at his mask. ‘You’re right. Let’s ditch them. We’ve got more if we need them later.’

  ‘Later’ was like a piece of string. It could be any length at all. At least it felt slightly easier to breathe without the covering of fabric on her face.

  ‘It’s a shame the coast was too rough to get around.’

  ‘Seemed like a good idea to get to higher ground and a bit farther away from the volcano.’

  ‘How long do you reckon it’ll take us to get to the others?’

  ‘We’re nearly at the top of this ridge. I’ll tell you then.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘You OK to keep going for a bit?’

  She wasn’t, but something in his tone suggested he’d stop if she needed to, despite the urgency of his next goal. It made her want to ignore the aches that were getting bone deep and carry on. For his sake.

  ‘I’m good’ was all she said.

  On they went. And up. Until, finally, the ground became less steep. The trees thinned and the landscape was changing. Becca recognised splashes of red amongst dark green grey foliage.

  ‘Good grief. Pohutukawa trees. I feel almost at home.’

  Jet didn’t seem to be interested in the botanical features of this island. He did seem to be listening to something, however.

  ‘Hear that?’

  ‘What … the birds?’

  ‘No … sounds like water.’

  Suddenly Becca was thirstier than she’d ever been in her life. And hotter. A mirage-like image swam into her head. A mountain stream. A waterfall and a deep, still pool in front of it. She’d rip her clothes off and dive right in. Oh … she could almost feel the deliciously icy embrace of that water on her naked body.

  And Jet would peel off his clothes and dive in right after her. He’d be submerged and she’d wonder where he was until she felt a tug on her ankle and squeaked in fright. He’d come up then, laughing … and then he’d pull her into his arms and.

  Laughing? Jet?

  What an absurd flight of fancy. A real smile had always been at the top end of his happiest expressions. Laughing was far too joyous a sound to associate with Jet Munroe.

  Had that always been part of the attraction? A recognition of an intensity that was part of her own soul? If so, they’d be the worst possible combination of personalities, wouldn’t they? They’d probably fight like demons.

  Or make love with a passion other people only dreamed of finding.

  ‘Here.’ Jet’s voice broke into her wild fantasy ride like a bomb exploding. ‘Let’s stop.’

  How had she not registered the increase in that sound? There was a waterfall. A fairly small one and there was no pool to dive into but at this moment it was almost a relief. The water bounced and splashed over rocks before disappearing downwards.

  ‘Where’s it coming from? Aren’t we on the top of this ridge?’

  ‘There’s a higher ridge. See? It’s like a stairway and we’re on a bit of tread here.’

  Peering through the trees, Becca realised she could see more greenery instead of sky in the direction Jet was pointing. It wasn’t a matter of a flattish hike and then heading upwards again, however. The disappearance of the stream revealed that a gully lay between this ridge and the next slope. How deep was it? Would they have to scramble right back to sea level and start climbing again?

  It was enough of a setback to feel almost like defeat.

  It could take them days to reach their goal. They might get there and find the other occupants of the island had already been rescued by ship. Would they think to send a search party for herself and Jet or assume they had gone down with the helicopter into the sea?

  Becca sank down, still clutching her bag of supplies. Jet had put the life pack down. He eased the straps of the pack off his shoulders, arched his back to stretch it and then strode towards the stream.

  The fact that he didn’t even look tired made Becca feel even worse. The only muscles she had the strength to use right now were attached to her eyes and they didn’t have to move much to watch what Jet was doing.

  He scooped up handfuls of water and splashed them onto his face. He raked his fingers through his hair and used another handful to rub the back of his neck.

  ‘That feels better,’ he said in a satisfied tone. He turned his head, eyebrows raised in unmistakeable invitation. ‘You should try it.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Her legs felt like putty as she tried to get up again.

  Could she blame her weakness purely on exhaustion or did it have something to do with the image of Jet like that, with his hair in tousled spikes as though he’d just stepped out of a shower? With an invitation glimmering in his eyes.

  He was in front of her now. Extending a hand to help her to her feet.

  ‘I wouldn’t drink it yet,’ he said. ‘I’ve got some sterilising tablets it might be prudent to use.’

  The hand was irresistible despite the insistent voice in Becca’s head that told her ignore it and show him she was more than capable of leaping to her feet unaided. The grip was firm and warm and the upward tug made it so easy to stand up. Some of that heavy disappointment that they were still so far from their goal ebbed away. The touch of Jet’s hand was like being plugged into a current of strength. A power source.

  The cold water felt wonderful, even when it trickled down her neck and into her flight suit. She splashed again and again as Jet filled a specially designed bag with water and added a tablet. He set it on a rock to process and Becca sat beside it to rest.

  ‘I’ve never broached the survival kit in this pack before,’ he told her. ‘It’s got a lot of useful-looking bits in it.’

  She leaned forward to look. ‘Like what?’

  ‘These water-purification pills. A good multi-tool. A lighter for getting a fire going. And … let’s see what’s in here.’ He unzipped another waterproof pouch.

  ‘We won’t need a fire.’

  Jet made a noncommittal sound. ‘We’ll have to see how far we get by nightfall. Don’t think we want to be climbing near cliffs in the dark.’

  So he was also thinking it could take them a long time to reach the settlement. He wasn’t at all defeated by the prospect, though. He was simply thinking in terms of coping with it. Dealing with whatever obstacles presented themselves.

  Becca could do that, too.

  ‘Don’t suppose there’s any chocolate in there?’

  ‘Something even better. Muesli bars.’ Jet held up a foil-wrapped bar. ‘Might be a bit stale.’

  ‘It’ll be great. Thanks.’ Becca took the bar but didn’t open it. ‘I need a drink first, I think. Right now I’m so dry I wouldn’t have enough spit to swallow anything.’

  Jet held the bag up to the light and examined the contents. ‘Should be done. There’s a valve at the bottom. Pull it out and suck on it. Like a drink bottle.’

  It was the most delicious liquid Becca had ever tasted.

  ‘Take it slowly,’ Jet advised. ‘Don’t skull.’

  With the intention of giving him a scathing glance to let him know she knew what she was doing, Becca let her gaze drift sideways as she kept drinking. She was startled to find him staring at her intently, his expression unreadable. Her thirst suddenly slaked, she lowered her arm and handed the bag over to him.

  ‘I’ll fill it up again before we head off,’ Jet said, accepting the bag. ‘There’ll be more later.’

  She found herself watching him drink just as intently as he’d watched her. The way the muscles in his throat rippled as he swallowed. The way his lips were closed around the valve that her own lips had been touching only moments ago.

  She should be getting used to this odd, unsettling sensation deep in her gut but it was getting stronger. What had Jet been thinking as he�
��d watched her drink?

  And why did she have to be remembering that kiss yet again?

  He’d been astonished. She’d read that in the tension in his lips instantly. Had relived it too many times in the weeks that had followed. But she’d also relived the sure knowledge that the surprise hadn’t been unpleasant. His lips had softened. Shaped themselves to hers and moved with what felt like the same kind of wonder she’d been feeling in every cell. The sheer magic that sparkled into existence and had been just about to explode when they’d both heard the sound of Matt’s voice in the hallway.

  Becca ducked her head as she felt the heat in her cheeks. She busied herself unwrapping the muesli bar.

  ‘I hope you’ve got dinner tucked away in there,’ she said lightly. ‘Just in case we do end up stuck out here for the night.’

  Spending a night with Jet. Who would have thought? Becca didn’t dare look up to meet his gaze because she knew he was watching her.

  ‘Does that worry you?’ he asked, a long moment later.

  Was he kidding?

  ‘No,’ she lied. ‘Not really.’

  The silence hung between them like an unexploded bomb. Becca searched swiftly for something that she could use to defuse it.

  ‘I did a survival course as part of my pilot training,’ she offered. ‘I can build a pretty good snow cave.’

  ‘Useful.’

  ‘I can make a brush shelter, too.’

  ‘How ‘bout a tree hut?’

  That earned a glare. She was being at least partially serious here. Did he have to try and make her feel like a child again? That teasing note in his voice. Talking about things like Snakes and Ladders … tree huts.

  ‘In case you hadn’t noticed,’ she snapped, ‘I’m all grown up now, Jet.’

  He still had a hint of a smile playing with his mouth but his eyes darkened perceptibly and became very serious.

  ‘Oh … I’ve noticed all right.’

  It was just as well Becca had finished her muesli bar because her throat tightened to the point where it would have been impossible to swallow anything without choking. It was hard to breathe, even.

  It took her back to that kiss again. To the tiniest moment when they’d peeled their lips from each other’s. A graze of eye contact that had lasted less than a heartbeat but she’d known the attraction had been mutual.

  He might have denied it and ignored her. It might have been apparently destroyed by what had happened later, but it had been there.

  It was there again now.

  She couldn’t look away. This was far more than an acknowledgment that she was an adult. A woman.

  He was letting her know that she was a desirable woman.

  That he desired her.

  It was a moment she’d once dreamed of but now it was here and there was no way she could go there. It was way too complicated. Too painful. It wasn’t going to happen.

  Forcing herself to look away from Jet finally, Becca stared over his shoulder. Eyes narrowed but focussing on nothing. Simply trying to breathe evenly. Trying to gather up what felt like fragments of herself and put them back into some semblance of order.

  Jet’s voice seemed to come with the breeze that was making her skin prickle.

  ‘Yeah … he’s here,’ Jet murmured softly. ‘He always is.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE second time she stumbled, Jet was close enough to turn and catch her.

  ‘You want to stop again?’

  ‘No. Not yet.’

  It had taken them at least two hours to go as far as they could along the top of that first ridge. Now they were heading down into a gully and Jet reckoned that when they reached the next ridge they should be able to see the other side of the island and pinpoint their destination.

  ‘Ditch the bag. You’ll be able to keep your balance better without it.’

  Becca shook her head. She’d carried it this far. She wasn’t about to give up now despite how badly her arm was aching. ‘You’ll need the supplies.’

  ‘They’ve probably got all that stuff in the first-aid kit at the station.’

  ‘If it’s not buried under rubble or mud or something.’

  Something like molten lava? Their journey was bringing them closer to the volcano with every hour that passed. The blue sky had been left behind and it was a dense grey above the tree canopy and mountaintops now. Cloud or ash? The air still felt clear enough that they hadn’t put masks back on yet.

  Jet merely grunted in response, turning and moving on again. He had the harder job by far, choosing the path they were taking and pushing through any undergrowth. He got to test the footing, as well, and more than once a rock or rotten branch had proved unstable. Becca was sure she’d seen him limping for a while after one such incident and he seemed slightly more cautious now.

  ‘Watch your feet,’ he instructed.

  That was precisely what she did need to do. She had to keep her mind on the job instead of letting it endlessly circle back to that gobsmacking comment Jet had made so casually.

  He’s here. He always is.

  So he was just as aware of Matt’s ghost as she was. And not just because she was here. The matter-of-fact delivery of the statement had been spine-tingling. It had been more than ten years ago but Jet made it sound as if it was still as much a part of his everyday life as. breathing or something.

  The really piercing effect of the words, however, had been the whisper of sadness behind them. For the first time, it occurred to Becca that maybe she hadn’t been the one who’d been most affected by Matt’s death. The assumption had seemed justified. He was her brother, for heaven’s sake. He’d been the most important person in her life since she’d been old enough to realise that he’d cared more about her than her parents had.

  But they’d both been sent to boarding school at the earliest possible age and holidays had seemed few and far between. By high school, Matt had been in Jet’s company day and night for months at a time. Well before the end of their schooling, they had been spending holidays as well as term time together. They had been inseparable so for the past ten years of Matt’s life Jet had spent far more time with Matt than she had. And they had chosen their friendship, not had it there automatically because of family ties.

  It was—astonishingly—conceivable that Jet had loved Matt just as much as she had.

  That he’d been just as devastated by losing him.

  She’d never allowed him that, had she? It hadn’t even occurred to her when she’d blamed him for Matt’s death. When she’d told him she hated him and never wanted to see him again.

  She’d been wrong.

  Just those few words and the eddies of emotion well below their surface had told her that. So convincingly it was impossible to stop thinking about them. Or to stop tears welling occasionally that were more than enough to blur her vision and make her miss her footing.

  No one else in the world would have that connection. Even Max and Rick, while welded into the unit the four of them had made, had been a step removed. It was she and Jet who had been the closest to Matt and this new insight told Becca that Jet would understand how much the tragedy had affected her life. Still affected it.

  How much else did they share as a legacy? The addiction to an adrenaline rush, perhaps, because it felt so good to still be alive when it was over?

  Or maybe, like her, Jet’s heart was walled off from loving someone enough to make them a life partner because it was safer than risking having them ripped away from you.

  Talking to Jet about such intimate things was not going to happen. Even if she was prepared to expose her own soul, she knew that he never would. Not to anyone, probably, and certainly not to her.

  Maybe he found it just as painful to be in her company as she had in his because of the memories it picked open.

  Had. She’d put that thought into the past tense. Had something changed that much because she felt guilty about how she’d treated Jet back then?

  Oh … yes.

/>   ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘What?’

  Dear Lord, had she actually made that apology aloud? No wonder Jet was scowling back at her over his shoulder. She couldn’t tell him what she was really apologising for. Not yet, when she still needed time to get her own head around this shift in perspective.

  ‘I’m … not keeping up very well. Slowing you down.’

  ‘You’re doing great.’

  ‘You could leave me somewhere, you know … and send a search party after the ship arrives.’ Becca could hear her voice trailing off. The thought of being left alone and watching Jet walking out of her life again made her feel astonishingly desolate.

  His huff of sound was reassuringly dismissive. ‘Not going to happen, babe. Even if I have to carry you.’

  The thought of being carried in his arms to safety was the flip side of the coin with desolation on it. Happiness. Bliss, even? Becca didn’t want to try and analyse that reaction.

  ‘We’d better get there before the ship arrives or they might leave without us.’

  ‘Why would they do that?’

  ‘They might think we crashed into the sea and drowned.’

  ‘If the emergency locator beacon was functioning, they’d see that we reached the island coastline. Plus I sent a message.’

  ‘Really? When? How?’

  ‘You were unconscious. There was a light flickering on the radio panel before it got too swamped with seawater. I sent a mayday. I also relayed that we were going to head for the settlement.’

  ‘Oh … that’s great.’ Becca half crouched to slide down a steep bank between trees. Jet had paused at the bottom and was holding out a hand in case she needed help. She didn’t, but when she stood up straight again she was very close to him and she looked up.

  ‘Well done, you, on trying the radio. That makes me feel much better.’ Her lips curled into a smile. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Hey … no worries.’ He was smiling back at her. ‘I was looking out for my own skin, as well, you know. I’m not here purely as your guardian angel.’