Unseen Messages

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Unseen Messages Page 15

by Pepper Winters


  E S T E L L E

  ......

  Life never delivers more than you can endure. Life has the sickest sense of humour.

  Sometimes happy. Sometimes

  s

  a

  d.

  But always moving forward. The key to surviving is laughing when things get bad and crying when things get good.

  I don’t cry enough.

  I laugh a lot.

  Taken from the notepad of E.E.

  ...

  I SAW HIM go.

  How could I not?

  I was hyper-aware whenever his eyes landed on me. My ears strained to eavesdrop on the conversation he’d had with Conner. And I’d split my awareness between tending to Pippa and what Galloway was doing behind me.

  It hadn’t worked very well.

  Pippa’s forehead mimicked the blazing afternoon sun and her lips were dry and cracked from dehydration. At least, the sea had helped; the salt water had turned the edges of her wound from bright red and crusty to whitewashed and swollen.

  Conner struck off after Galloway. Two males—one hobbling like an ancient warrior and the other dashing after his new idol.

  I didn’t move, cradled by the tide.

  Pippa touched my arm. “I want to go join them.”

  “Me, too.”

  I wanted to know what Conner had said for Galloway to storm off, what he kept hidden. I wanted to know so much but doubted I ever would because secrets had a habit of taking up too much space with no avenue for conversation.

  Our island wasn’t tiny, but Galloway’s attitude took up a large section of it, tainting the beach with scorn.

  Taking Pippa’s hand, I led her from the ocean.

  Instantly, the hot sun seared my skin, sizzling the droplets on my spine. I didn’t have any UV protection or ways of preventing sunburn. After all, I’d planned to go home. Not some hare-brained idea of going on holiday.

  Home.

  God, what I would give to be home.

  Pippa untangled her fingers from mine and dashed ahead. My eyes fell on our scattered belongings, hating my lack of know-how. How could I turn a few helicopter cushions, plastic wrap, and meagre items into food and shelter?

  Galloway had propped himself up against the log, and his temper had faded enough to continue talking with Conner. They turned silent as Pippa and I returned.

  Galloway refused to meet my eyes. Something had changed. He seemed more angry and vulnerable all at once. However, he directed his pissy attitude at himself rather than at me for a change.

  Wringing seawater from my hair, I said, “I need to set your leg.”

  “I can manage.”

  My hands slammed on my hips. I didn’t care I stood before him in my underwear. I didn’t care that the lace was see-through in places. All I cared about was getting him to accept help without hating the ones doing the helping. “You’re an idiot if you think that.”

  I stalked to the forest boundary and grabbed the long stick I’d found. Conveniently, another tree limb rested close by of equal length and thickness.

  Two will be better than one.

  Claiming both, I stormed back.

  No one said a word as I ducked by Galloway’s splayed leg (covered in sand, of course) and watched as I grabbed the Swiss Army knife and cut the rest of my singlet into strips. I mourned the diamantes as they fell into the sand with a lifeless sparkle.

  Once I had six strips, I positioned one stick on the right side of Galloway’s ankle and shin and the other on the left. With brisk efficiency, I brushed away as much of the annoying granules as I could and ignored the way Galloway’s muscles stiffened beneath my touch. When he was as clean as I could make him, I said to Conner. “Come and hold these for me, please.”

  Conner scrambled up and did as I asked.

  Smiling in thanks, I brushed away tendrils of drying hair, and glared at Galloway’s ankle. My stomach rolled with what I was about to do.

  It’ll hurt.

  So much.

  “Damn.”

  Galloway flinched. “What is it?”

  I pointed at the rough bark of the splint. “That will rub. I need something to wrap around your skin to keep it from getting sore.”

  “You can cut up my jeans if you want.”

  “You might need them and they’re your only pair.”

  “You’ve already seen me in my boxers, Estelle. I hardly think I need to worry about appropriate wardrobes.”

  I didn’t reply, merely kept glowering at his leg as if I could magically remove the swelling, realign the abnormal bumps, and take away his agony.

  His raspy baritone filled my ears. “You know...I’ve never had a woman glare at my ankle as much as you are.”

  “Zip it.”

  “Normally, they focus their gaze a little higher.”

  “Stop it.”

  He smirked. “Just trying to ease the tension.”

  “I’m not tense.”

  I stiffened as his hand landed on my shoulder with a possessive weight. My heart leapt into my mouth as he slowly, sensually dropped his touch down my bicep, forearm, and traced the blue veins in the back of my hand. “Could’ve fooled me.”

  I shook him off. “Leaves. We need leaves.”

  “What?” He chuckled.

  What the hell am I rambling about?

  I’d just blurted something random to combat the power he had over me.

  However, Conner came to my rescue. “For padding, you mean? Like you did with mine?”

  I latched onto the lifeline. “Yes. Exactly. That’s exactly what I mean.”

  Cool it.

  You’re acting like a ridiculous schoolgirl.

  Standing quickly, I winced and held my ribs. I eyed our umbrella tree with its large glossy leaves. I gathered a few handfuls and rolled them up until they created a cushioning barrier. Sandwiching them between the splint and Galloway’s ankle, Conner kept them in place while I tied the first strip of my top around his knee.

  Galloway winced but didn’t complain as I continued down his leg, fastening the makeshift cast.

  When it came time to straighten his oddly shaped ankle, I feared we’d both throw up.

  Luckily, neither did.

  Only once I’d finished did I sit back and stretch out my back. All things considered, it wasn’t too bad. From his knee to his ankle, I’d imprisoned his leg well enough to hopefully heal straight. I hadn’t tried to reposition anything. I couldn’t do anything about the swelling and obvious breaks in his foot. But I didn’t have the expertise to yank or try to realign.

  My heart pounded. “How does it feel?”

  Galloway frowned. “Not sure...”

  It won’t work. I’ll have to try something else—

  He cracked a rare smile. “It feels better. Thanks.” His eyes warmed, looking more blue-galaxy than tempest sea. “I appreciate it.”

  Thank God.

  For once, I was able to relax under his scrutiny. “You’re welcome.”

  .............................

  Night-time.

  Our first night in the wild.

  Well, second if you count our crash and stormy welcome.

  The sun had bowed to the moon and the sweltering heat of the day turned to a nippy chill.

  In our meagre luggage, we’d found our respective toothbrushes and two tubes of travel-size toothpaste. Cleaning our teeth and swilling our mouths with seawater wasn’t ideal, but we all needed a slice of normalcy. We didn’t have soap, but for now, we would settle for minty fresh breath.

  Galloway and Conner had spent the afternoon fiddling with sticks and the polyethylene plastic, trying to come up with something sturdy to sleep beneath. But exhaustion and pain had finally taken its toll and we accepted that tonight...the Milky Way would be our ceiling and the stars our curtains.

  I shivered, huddling in the spare t-shirt Conner had given me. I didn’t think my silky nightgown was appropriate, nor would it grant much warmth. My cotton shorts didn’t s
top sand from slipping into every inch. I craved a shower to rid the sticky salt, a gallon of fresh water to temper my raging thirst, and a comfy bed with feather pillows and the softest blankets imaginable.

  The entire day we’d been feeding off each other’s energy. But now, daylight had gone, signalling twenty-four hours with nothing to show for it. Our enthusiasm to converse had dwindled to non-existent. Even the piece of beef jerky for dinner hadn’t put us in a better mood.

  All I wanted to do was curl up and shut off. The introvert part of my personality demanded I recharge away from the others, but the fear of being alone on a deserted island kept me appreciative of the company.

  Pippa crawled toward me, her face pinched from crying. “Can I sleep next to you?”

  I held out my arms. “Of course, you can. We can keep each other warm.” Her tiny form slotted against mine, sharing body heat, and surprisingly, offering comfort. However, she didn’t come alone. She clutched her stuffed, slightly damp kitten, wedging him between us.

  The cold sand wasn’t exactly comfortable, but we’d all scooped four bed-like troughs to fit our individual shapes.

  I hugged her hard, kissing her head. “Go to sleep. I’ve got you.” My heart stirred, already falling for the parentless waif.

  In the dark, my eyes met Galloway’s. We slept facing the same way but a few metres apart. I hadn’t consciously placed myself so far from him, but even with the distance, his gaze still managed to splatter my skin with goosebumps.

  He didn’t say a word, just stared with intense eyes almost opalescent in the night.

  He’d done his best to help (offering to go with Conner and me to explore the island again—just in case we’d bypassed civilisation (we hadn’t unfortunately)), but his pain meant he was no use to anyone.

  He didn’t see it that way, though. He saw it as weak. He looked at me as if I’d stolen something by doing my hardest to stay strong. He didn’t need to know that when I’d gone for a bathroom break, I’d used the rest of my singlet to wrap around my ribs. He didn’t need to know my discomfort or the fear I kept screwed tight like an over shaken bottle of lemonade.

  He couldn’t erase my injuries, just like I couldn’t erase his.

  We were in this together, whether we liked it or not.

  Sighing heavily, I broke eye contact and settled in my sandy bed. I hated the way grains rubbed on my skin, sticking to my cheeks.

  Pippa scooted closer, her tiny body drunk with sleep.

  I couldn’t move with her draped on me, nor did I want to. Staring at the starlit sky, I did my best to find solace in song writing. Ghostly lyrics and phantom music filled my head, composing a melody, turning to symphonies for salvation.

  Tomorrow will be better.

  A new day always is.

  Mistakes vanish. Tears dry.

  Tomorrow will be better.

  A new day makes sure of it.

  .............................

  DAY TWO

  Tomorrow turned out to be worse than yesterday.

  At daybreak, Conner and I returned to the helicopter, grabbing another plastic tarp from a dusty storage compartment and slicing through the seat belts with the Swiss Army knife. The nylon straps I cinched around Galloway’s splint, fortifying my flimsy shirt with rigidity.

  We’d enjoyed a meagre breakfast of half a muesli bar each, another piece of beef jerky, and the rest of the bottle of water from Duncan’s backpack. We had two more bottles from the pilot’s supplies and three more muesli bars.

  After that...we were screwed.

  The aches and breaks from the crash had doubled overnight and muscles seized with day-late punishment. We moved stiffly with no smiles or conversation, slipping quickly into depression.

  By afternoon, insects started to bother us: mosquitoes with their preference for blood, flies with their pestilent buzzing, even a few lizards and geckoes made appearances. I wasn’t hungry enough to contemplate stewing a lizard, but who knew what time would bring.

  Pippa continued to burn up, and Galloway was no better. His ankle had kept him up most of the night and my heart hurt every time he struggled to his feet.

  At some point in the night, I’d whisper-asked if he wanted help to go to the bathroom, but he’d never answered, leaving his sharp silence as all the reply I needed.

  At least with his splint, he could move slightly easier.

  Late afternoon sun beat down on us. No rain clouds danced on the horizon signalling an end to our thirst, and no boats or planes sought us out.

  It was another day in paradise.

  A paradise that was quickly killing us.

  I paced the water’s edge, doing my best to figure out a way to survive.

  Hunger and lack of water would soon drive us mad.

  That’s my first priority.

  Then we could create shelter.

  But first...food.

  Striding from the shore, I disappeared into the forest with renewed purpose. The strapping I’d wrapped around my ribs helped and I’d grown used to tensing when I moved to combat the nasty twinge.

  Glowering at trees and bushes, I wished I’d studied botany.

  What could I eat? What was good and what was bad?

  Coconuts littered the ground, but I knew from drinking coconut water every morning in my smoothie that you had to get the juice from the young green ones, not the husky brown ones. The older ones were bitter and not nearly as bountiful in liquid.

  Footsteps sounded behind me.

  Conner.

  His young face tight with worry. “Pippa is burning up. I’m worried.”

  “She’ll be okay. We’ll look after her.”

  “How?”

  “Not sure yet, but we will.”

  I’d checked her back this morning, and (thank God) she didn’t need stitches.

  When I’d started my health food kick with smoothies, Madeline had sprouted all kinds of medicinal properties that coconut water supposedly held. Something about antioxidants and vitamins. I didn’t know how true it was, but I was willing to try anything.

  “Want to help me get a few coconuts?”

  “If it’s food, then yes. I’m starving.”

  “You and me both.”

  The mere thought of eating made my mouth water and stomach tear itself into eager pieces. We could have another muesli bar, but I didn't want to use our supplies so quickly.

  Heading deeper into the forest, I kept an eye out for animals. The island was sizeable but not that big. I doubted we’d encounter large predators but snakes might lurk in the undergrowth.

  A crash sounded, jerking our heads up.

  “What was that?” Conner stepped closer to me. For his bravado and gung-ho attitude, he was still just a kid.

  A few seconds passed with no other noise.

  Swallowing my nerves, I shrugged. “Not sure. Let’s find out.”

  “What?” Conner grabbed my wrist. “I don’t think that’s a good idea—”

  I kept moving, dragging him with me. “Trust me. We have to explore this place. We know humans don’t inhabit it, but knowledge is what will keep us alive, not fear. We need to know everything we can.” Flashing him a smile, I added, “Besides, we’re in Fiji, what bad could happen in paradise?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Um, cannibals, sharks...”

  “Cannibals?” My smile turned genuine. “What old documentaries have you been watching?”

  “I dunno. Stuff.”

  “Stuff?”

  “Yeah, you know. Gruesome stuff. It’s better than some stupid video game.”

  “Wait. I saw you playing on one of those handheld devices. You’re going to fib and say you don’t like PlayStation? You have to be the only boy in the world, surely?”

  Conner scowled. “No, I like it. I just don’t believe in it like some idiots do. They think they’re some macho soldier after playing Call of Duty for a few hours. They think being virtually blown up by a grenade is the worst thing ever, but they haven’t watched
the History Channel.”

  Wow, he’s a switched on boy.

  I assessed him with fresh eyes. “You’re pretty cool, you know that?”

  “Cheers.” His gaze darted from mine to the undergrowth by our feet. A green coconut nestled against the bracken. “Coconut has been found.”

  I bent to pick it up. “That’s what must’ve made the crash.” Peering into the canopy, I shielded my vision from the sun spearing through the fronds. “This tree has a lot of them.”

  Conner yanked me back. “Another might fall then.”

  I warmed at his concern.

  Allowing him to pull me to a safe distance, I passed the coconut to him. “Tell you what. You hold this and keep an eye out. I want to try something.”

  “Wait. What are you going to do?”

  I darted to the other side of the tree where coconuts didn’t lurk above my head. “Watch.” Tensing against the upcoming pain, I threw myself into the trunk shoulder first.

  My ribs screamed.

  Holy crap, that hurt.

  The wiry palm shuddered but nothing fell.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Conner inched closer.

  “Stay back.” Gritting my teeth, I drove my shoulder into the tree again.

  And again.

  Ow. Ow. Ow.

  By the third shoulder nudge, another coconut crashed to the floor.

  “Wow.” Conner dashed forward and scooped it up. “Good work.”

  Rubbing my shoulder, I panted, “We’ll need to figure out a better way of doing that.”

  “I’d say.”

  Taking one of the coconuts, I headed back to camp. “Let’s return to the others. They’ll be wondering where we are.”

  .............................

  “Where are they?” Conner dumped the coconuts by our supplies, peering along the beach. “Pip?!” His voice hadn’t deepened yet; it cracked with worry.

  My heart raced at the immediate leap of something terrible happening.

  The thought was too painful to contemplate.

  Conner spun in place, his gaze locking onto the see-through plastic we’d found in the helicopter. Unlike before, where it had been scrunched up on the sand, it was now wrapped around a section of our shady tree. Branches and leaves were imprisoned in the plastic while a funnel had been tied with a piece of my singlet that’d been around Galloway’s leg.

  What on earth?

 

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