Beyond the Sea (8 page)

“
Yep.” Brian draped the net over them and settled back down, closing his eyes.
Okay. Sleep now.

Of course his brain refused to shut off despite his exhaustion. The minutes ticked by as he fidgeted, images unspooling like the worst movie ever. The wall of rain, the flashing lights as alarms screamed, the merciless cliff wall where Paula should have been, the pale mystery of her arm at his feet.

The net grazed Brian’s cheek, and he shoved it away, his heart beating too hard.

Troy whispered, “I can’t believe this is real. You know?”

Brian’s throat tightened again, and he pushed away an image of Paula’s teasing smile. “Yeah.”

“
Do you think they know yet? That we’re lost?”

“
Yes. The airline will have contacted our families.” He stared up at the dark sky, barely able to make out the shapes of clouds. “Well, your family. Paula’s.”
What were their names?

“
You don’t have any family?”

“
Not anymore.” He missed them so much, but at least his grandparents wouldn’t suffer, worrying for him. “The authorities will be investigating. The coast guard launching a search.”

“
Do you think…will they think we’re dead?”

He wanted to tell a pretty lie to make Troy feel better, but what was the point? “Yes. Over water, there are rarely survivors.”

“
God. My brother’s going to…” He muttered something under his breath. “Fuck, why did I do this? Ruined everything.”

“
You couldn’t have known.”

Troy was shaking, his voice thick. “I should have called my mom before I left. And Ty… The things I said.”

Troy’s eyes gleamed, and Brian reached out to awkwardly pat his arm. “It’s not your fault.”

Gripping Brian’s wrist, Troy whispered, “I need to talk to them. Even if it’s just one more time. It’s not fair.”

“
I know. I’m sorry.” The bone ached where Troy squeezed, but Brian didn’t pull away.

With a shuddering exhale, Troy let go. “Sorry. I’m freaking out. They’re going to be so upset, and I won’t be there to help.”

“
Don’t be sorry.” Brian gave him another pat before curling his hand to his chest.

Troy was quiet for a minute, aside from forceful breathing. Then he asked, “What happened to your family?”

“
I was raised by my grandparents, and they’re gone. My grandmother lasted to eighty-four. She passed five years ago.”

“
I’m sorry.” He exhaled sharply. “I just…I feel like I’m going to wake up in that bunk, and we’ll be landing in LA. How did this happen? I was sleeping, and then it was so bumpy, and my ears were popping. It was so fast. I can’t…” He shook his head. “Sorry. I know you told me how it happened.”

“
It’s okay. Your brain’s processing. I keep seeing it happen again too. Repeating over and over.”

“
They’ll find us soon. Won’t they?”

In that moment, Troy sounded unbearably young. Brian hadn’t been able to protect him in the air, but he wouldn’t fail him now. Even if no one found them, he’d keep Troy safe. He put every ounce of confidence and hope he had into his next three words. “We’ll be okay.”

It must have convinced Troy, because soon his breathing evened out. Brian stared at the few stars starting to inch their way through the shadow of clouds.

Normally he hated sleeping next to someone. Even with Alicia, they’d had a king-sized bed so there was plenty of room to stretch out. But he didn’t mind feeling the heat of Troy’s body, listening to the sighs and hitches of his inhalations and exhalations. They could have been the last two people the world, and unless rescue miraculously came, they were.

“
Jesus fucking Christ!” Troy shot up, pawing at something stuck to him, his heart pounding. The honks filled the air, and he turned his head left and right desperately.
What? Who? Where the fuck—

It was real. He was actually stranded on a desert island. It hadn’t been some fucked-up nightmare.

Gut twisting, he forced a breath and managed to kick off his silver blanket and get free of the mosquito net without tearing it. Brian was blinking and muttering beside him, and Troy turned to find the creators of the hideous honking cries that sent shivers down his spine. Rubbing his eyes, he focused on the moving swarm of color in the trees in the pale light of dawn.

“
What the…” Groaning, Brian pushed himself up to sitting and dragged the net over his head, balling it in his lap. The crisp white of his uniform shirt was dull with dirt. “Are those…?”

“
Parrots,” Troy answered. “They look like parrots.” The loudest freaking parrots in history. As the sun rose, it was apparently breakfast time, and they clustered in the trees, eating God knows what. Very enthusiastically.

Brian groaned again, wincing. The red mark on his forehead had darkened to a purple bruise. He gingerly stretched his neck side to side. “That’s some wakeup call.”

“
Yeah. How’s your head?” He peered closely, relieved to see Brian’s pupils looked normal in his hazel eyes.

“
Hurts. But I’ll live.” He rubbed his face. “Got some sleep, at least. You?”

“
A few hours, I guess.” Troy gazed around. The sky had cleared, and it looked like it would be a hot day. The sun was rising on the other side of the island, so their beach was facing west. Not that it mattered, since they were in the middle of nowhere. “So…what do we do now?”

Brian stared at the parrots, barely blinking.

Shit. Brian was in no condition to be doing anything.
Okay. Be logical. What do we need first?
“I should look for water. We still have some full bottles, but they won’t last long in this heat. There must be fresh water on the island, right? A stream, maybe? And we need something to catch rain when it comes.”

At least Brian snapped out of it. “Yes. Sorry, I’m a little…fuzzy. Water is the priority. We should see what food we can find as well. Explore the island. But first do an inventory on our supplies. I’m not even sure what’s in this emergency pack.”

Turned out to be a surprising number of things. Waterproof matches and a magnifying glass. A heavy duty orange laminate sheet that was a blanket or perhaps…something for camping? It had grommets on each corner, which confused Troy. He’d never camped a day in his life, but he’d watched some Bear Grylls. Now he
really
wished he’d paid more attention. “Orange seems to be the color of the day,” he noted as he unfolded two ponchos and bandannas.

“
Good for being seen from above,” Brian said, unzipping a little kit. “Oh, thank God. Fishing line and hooks. Lures. This is important.”

They cataloged the remaining protein bars and took two more. There was also a Nalgene water bottle, water purification tablets, a first aid kit, the orange rope and carabiner, and a thick roll of duct tape.

Troy unzipped a small rectangular soft case. “A mirror? With a star in the middle?” He flipped it over to find instructions on the other side. The mirror was about the size of an instant camera and encased in solid plastic. “Oh, for signaling.”

“
We’ll have to keep that handy.”

“
One more thing in here…” Troy tore open the Velcro closure of a little black pouch and tipped out a coil of metal with thick material handhold straps on each end. “This looks like…a bike chain? With sharp edges?”

Brian glanced up. “Chainsaw. We can cut through branches to make a shelter. Firewood.”

“
Oh!” Troy eyed the teeth on the chain and carefully coiled it into its pouch. “Cool.” He watched as Brian unsheathed a knife from a leather case, about six or seven inches. “Whoa. That’s serious business.”

“
It is indeed.” Brian slid it back into the sheath and buttoned the clasp before examining small tubes of sunscreen, lip balm, and mosquito repellent. “These won’t last long. We have to be careful.”

“
Right.” Troy tried to smile.
Fake it until you make it.
“But we won’t be here very long. They’ll already be looking.”

Brian seemed to be thinking as he checked his watch. “Yes, the searchers could be heading out this morning. They would have had to wait until the storm cleared. It depends on which direction it went, and the level of resources available. Regardless, we should start a signal fire.”

Troy sipped a bottle of water and finished his protein bar. His stomach still rumbled. “I guess we can use this chainsaw thing to cut logs?” He glanced around the beach. “There’s a tree down over there. That’s as good as any.”

Brian was staring out to sea. After a few moments, he blinked and looked at Troy. “Sorry? Yes, yes. That tree’s good.”

“
I’ll get started on it.” Troy hopped to his feet, attempting to appear as capable and confident as possible. “You drink some more water and rest.”

“
No, I’m fine.” Brian pushed himself up, then swayed.

Troy grabbed his arms. “You hit your head. Just sit, okay? You can supervise.”

Brian opened his mouth before closing it again with a sigh. “Okay.” He obediently sat back down on the sand.

“
Now where should we light this fire?” Troy gazed around, peering up at the cliff towering above this end of the island. “Up there would be great, but I dunno if there’s anywhere to climb. We should probably start one here on the beach first, I think?”

“
Definitely. We can explore later, but for now we should set up here.” Brian stared at the rock face. “We almost made it,” he murmured. “She did such a great job getting us down at all. But we had too much speed coming in. Nowhere to go. She…”

In the silence that followed, Troy swallowed hard. “I’m really, really sorry. I’m so grateful to her for saving my life. So grateful to both of you.”

“
No,” Brian bit out sharply. He shoved items back in the pack, arranging and rearranging. “I didn’t do anything. Paula was the pilot. She saved us.”

“
From where I’m sitting—well, standing—you did a hell of a lot. So thank you.” Before Brian could argue, Troy squared his shoulders. “Okay. Where should we put the fire? If we’re too close to this end with the cliff, it’ll be hard to see the fire from that direction. Maybe we should move down the beach?” He didn’t add that it would be good to get away from the place the plane had crashed.

It was incredible what little sign there was left of it. The waves had been so violent, and the storm had sent so many trees and plants scattering. The tracks the plane must have made in the sand had been wiped clean. It was like he and Brian had simply been dropped there.

Brian looked left and right. “Yes. We’ll move down. Not too far—the cliff might give us some shelter if there’s another storm.”

They shifted their gear, and Troy made sure Brian was sitting again before he took the chainsaw pouch and set off across the sand. It was warm and fine between his toes, almost white.

Being careful of the chain’s ragged teeth, Troy took the strap handles in each hand and sized up the small tree that lay on the beach. It wasn’t a palm, and had several branches. There were others down the beach, as well as a ton of fallen palm fronds that would probably be good for…he tried to remember the word. Right—kindling. They’d be good for kindling. He hoped everything would be dry enough.

“
I can do this,” he muttered. “It’ll be like CrossFit or some shit.”

He bent and went to work sawing through the first limb, yanking the chain back and forth. At first he didn’t keep it taut enough, and the teeth got stuck in the wood. But after a few tries he started to get the hang of it and removed a limb a few inches thick.

The fact that he was actually on a desert island in the Pacific like someone in a movie was so beyond weird he couldn’t really wrap his head around it. He’d survived a plane crash. And now he was going to build a signal fire and look for water. He was
on a desert island
. It was too freaking crazy.

As he sawed, sweat gathered on his brow and dampened the collar of his dirty tee. He rolled up his sweatpants to his knees. His throat was dry and arms aching by the time he finished. The trunk of the tree was too thick, but he sawed the limbs and branches into smaller pieces and tried to think of the last time he’d done manual labor. He came up blank.

Carrying an armload of wood, he returned to where Brian sat, the sand becoming uncomfortably hot. Troy slipped on the flip-flops. Brian had taken off his dress shoes and socks, and poked through his suitcase.