Stranded (14 page)

Rain bombarded Jake awake to a starless sky. Eve, Betty, and Crystal sat up and cried out as if they were under attack. Beyond the cove, the ocean roared its own protest. The wind spattered them with wet bullets and set their teeth to chattering.

“Put your life vests on.” He helped Betty into hers. The vests would conserve their upper body heat. Their heat—he didn’t have a jacket any more. Just moccasins.

His moccasins! He felt under the rock where he stored his footwear. His fingers identified the rough squares of fabric, but the filling was gone. He had laid it out to dry.

“Eve, your moccasins.”

“Got them on.”

They huddled around Betty, shoulder to shoulder, heads down. Crystal’s arm was cold against his.

“Shouldn’t we go to the jungle?” Eve shouted.

“The rain will quit before we get there.”

“You’re a weatherman?” she flung back.

“Look up. The stars are back out. Tells us the wind is blowing the clouds away.”

Minutes later, the rain shut off as if someone had closed a spigot. The clouds rolled westward like army tanks, attacking the volcano, barreling
on from there to battle the ocean. In the east, a line of gold split the ocean from the sky, and the stars faded. Shivering, rubbing their arms, the four castaways sat and watched the sun burnish the horizon.

Sadness—every morning it threw its dark cloak around Jake’s heart. Every morning marked another day without Ginny. She should be here. And what about his children—they must think their parents were dead. A week was a long time to wait for news.

“The wood is wet,” Crystal whined. “We can’t light a fire.” Betty put an arm around her.

Whatever Eve had said or done last night with Crystal, it had resolved the flare-up between Crystal and Betty. Good, because he needed a day off. Needed to get away, to be free of the burden of their unrelenting demands. Most of all, he needed space between him and Eve. Her stubborn refusal yesterday to explain the connection between her, Ginny’s death, and Captain Emilio had finished off his patience.

He stood, muscles stiff, bones creaking. Old. Weary. “I’m going to the lighter to get the sail. It will give us some cover and keep the wood dry.” Before they could say anything, he added, “I’m going alone.”

Crystal’s eyes filled with tears. Eve’s eyebrows puckered into a frown. Betty’s lips tugged down at the corners.

He didn’t care.

“Wait, Jake.” Eve slipped off her moccasins and offered them to him. “Wear these until you can fix yours.”

“Here’s some fruit.” Crystal grabbed his favorites from the pile near Betty and handed them to him.

“You deserve time alone, Jake.” Betty’s voice was tender. “We’ll be just fine.”

He stuffed the fruit into his pockets, sat, and put on the moccasins. The morning sun removed the chill from his skin. And maybe his heart was just a little warmer too.

“Thanks.” He stood and jogged away from them. Maybe he’d come back after all.

A fire glowed in the dusk when he returned hours later. A dollar to a donut, Crystal had lit it, with Betty and Eve hovering over her like clucking hens. How had they done with the supply of fruit? It was too dark to get more. And he was bushed. His discovery today had been worth the time and effort, but all he wanted to do now was sleep.

“Jake!” Crystal’s grin in the firelight confirmed his guess. “I got the fire going. We dried out the wood, and Eve got more twigs and leaves. And fruit.”

With bare feet? He dropped the folded canvas and rope and lowered his tired body next to Crystal’s. “Atta girl, I knew you could light it.” A glance at Eve’s feet revealed she was wearing his moccasins. “Did you find my filling?”

“No. I took some out of my life vest.”

“Good. I could use your jacket—someone’s jacket,” he corrected himself, “to make torches tomorrow. I want to explore that tunnel in the trench.”

“I thought you were going to the volcano top.” Eve didn’t try to hide her irritation.

“I changed my mind.”

“Then I’ll go by myself. I want to get off this island.”

“Can I explain my reason tomorrow? Tonight I—”

“No.”

Why had he held onto her shirt when the log bowled her over the cliff? “Okay.” He refrained from making his sigh audible. “Here’s why. Today makes five days we’ve been on the island. We’ve seen no passing ships, no planes overhead. The only sign of civilization has been a murdered man that washed ashore.” He flinched at Crystal’s gasp. Oops. “And now, with the discovery of the Lone Soldier, I realized that what we actually discovered is an island so long deserted that an enemy from four decades ago died. Forsaken . . . forgotten . . . abandoned . . . This island exists in a vacuum. No one—”

“Jake.” Betty’s protest roused him. What had he said? In his exhaustion, he’d shared his soul, not his mind.

He straightened the slump of his shoulders. “I want to explore that tunnel. Get what facts I can on what happened to the Lone Soldier and his companions—how they lived, how they survived. With that information, I’m ready for what we find from the top of the volcano.”

Across the fire, Eve frowned. “I don’t see the connection. There’s no reason for the tunnel to have priority over the volcano.”

He shrugged. “Then go.”

“Please, Eve, wait for Jake.” Betty grabbed Eve’s hand. “What if I’d been alone when I went into the minefield?” The fire flickered shadows onto Betty’s face, emphasizing deep lines around her eyes and mouth that hadn’t been there on the cruise ship. She turned to Jake. “Would there be more booby traps above the minefield?”

“I wasn’t going to risk it. Safest path is through the jungle.”

Eve’s cheek muscles twitched. “I’ll wait one day, nothing more.”

He shrugged again. Did he even want her along? He’d accomplished a big task today with no one to distract him. Chances were, she wasn’t going to be happy with what she found from the volcano top anyway.

He couldn’t sleep. He’d spent the day with Ginny, talking to her, recounting their years together, wondering with her how the kids were doing at the Point. Now that he was back with flesh-and-blood humans, the ache for her returned. If he’d been alone on the island, would he have found happiness with her ghost? Had the Lone Soldier fought loneliness with the aid of invisible loved ones?

Rolling onto his back, he stared up at the stars. He’d prayed today too. The emptiness was bearable when he took it to God. But the prayer and the remembering didn’t remove the pain. The ache had become his second skin, squeezing him, crimping the hollow space inside where his heart had been. In daylight he could keep busy, keep his mind distracted. At night, memories waited at the door for body and mind to yield to them.

“Can’t sleep?” Betty lay nearby. She didn’t sound any sleepier than he. Behind her, Crystal bent over the low flames of the fire, the faithful handmaiden determined to keep it alive. Eve sat facing the cove, silhouetted by a sliver of moon.

“Yeah, having a hard time.”

“Thinking of Ginny?”

He swallowed.
“Yeah.”

“It helps to talk.”

“Been talking to her all day.”

“I thought so. Talk to me now.”

He sat up. Half-reluctant, half-eager.

“She was a lovely woman, Jake. I appreciated her kindness. She was the only one on the cruise who bothered to talk to Crystal and me the first two days.”

“She loved people.” That was why he’d chosen the small cruise ship. She’d have gotten to know every passenger, their hopes and dreams, their heartaches.

“Where did you and Ginny meet?”

“High school.” He chuckled. “She beat me out of being valedictorian by one point.”

Crystal stopped poking the fire. “Tell us about your first date. I bet it was so romantic!”

“Romantic blunder was more like it.”

Betty cackled. “Sounds like a story. Tell us.” She scooted closer to the fire. Eve joined them, so he got up and settled into their circle.

“It wasn’t really a date—more of an accidental get-together—but I liked thinking of it as a date. It was 1955, the summer before our junior year in high school. We knew each other before then, of course, but neither of us was dating.”

“Why?” Crystal asked.

“Because I was self-conscious of my scars, and because Ginny would only date a Christian.”

Eve’s head jerked toward him. “What kind of prejudice is that?”

“It wasn’t a matter of prejudice. She didn’t want her faith compromised.”

“He’s right,” Betty interjected. “My husband wasn’t a Christian, and I found my faith compromised time after time. Frank’s stance was that we each were free to act as we believed.”

“Seems sensible to me.” Eve wrapped her arms around her legs
.

“Was it?” Betty’s voice fell. “I eventually gave up my faith.”

“You shouldn’t have—you don’t have to give up who you are just to be married.”
Eve’s words vibrated with indignation.

“It’s not that simple. Differences—big ones, important ones—push you apart.” Pain crumpled Betty’s face. “But we want to hear your story, Jake. Please, go on.”

It was hard to crank up the enthusiasm after Eve’s fuss. He cleared his throat. “That summer, there was a carnival in town for the Fourth of July. I can’t remember why now, but I was alone when I ran into Ginny and her friends. The two girls Ginny had started the day with had met some guys from our class and had paired up. That left Ginny as an unpaired extra, which was awkward for everyone. So when I came along, the two couples latched onto me and asked me to join them. Ginny went along with the impromptu arrangement only because she knew how uncomfortable it’d be for everyone else if she didn’t agree.

“We had a wonderful time. I’d had a crush on her since the beginning of high school, so I was thrilled to get to spend time with her. She let me pay her way on the various rides, but only after she whispered she had a job and would pay me back later.”

“So what was your blunder?” Betty asked.

“Ginny was so lovely, and when we did something fun, she’d look at me and we’d laugh and smile at each other. This went on all evening. When she congratulated me for winning the state wrestling title for my weight class, I felt like a hero in her eyes. I was just sure she liked me and was having a great time. Then she agreed to let me take her home, and I was even more confident. It wasn’t until we got to her door that I realized she’d let me drive her home so she could pay me back the money I’d spent on her. She kept insisting I take the money, and I kept refusing, and then, well, I kissed her.”

He took a deep breath, reliving the moment. “I’ll never forget the expression on her face. She pushed me away like I’d violated her or something. ‘What’s the matter?’ I said. I felt pretty stupid. I thought we’d had a good time and she’d want me to kiss her.”

“That’s what feminism is all about!” Eve’s eyes blazed across the fire at Jake. “Men forcing themselves on women—men feeling they have the inherent right to dominate—men assuming there’s an invitation where there’s really an invasion.”

Jake’s mouth fell open. “It was just a kiss, Eve.” He glared back at her. “Boy-chases-girl was the cultural norm back then. Ginny was—”

“I’m not looking for a social studies lesson, Jake. Which, by the way, you have all wrong. Men dominating women is not a cultural norm—it’s a male norm, for all cultures and all times.”

“Stop it! Stop it!” Betty clapped her hands over her ears. “We have enough problems on this island without you two squabbling.”

For a moment, no one said anything. Then Eve rose to her feet, her back rigid. “How about a walk, Crystal?” She held out her hand. The child joined her, and they strolled toward the cove.

Jake huffed. Was she using Crystal to get at him?

“I’m sorry, Jake.” Betty put her hand over his. “I’d hoped for a better ending to your hard day.”

“Part of it was good. I discovered a way around that ocean cliff.”

“You mean Crystal’s suicidal staircase?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. The path is a long ways around, but it beats that drop to the ocean.”

“Good, because I swore I’d never risk that climb again.”

Truth was, the path was a luxury. The cave tunnel, though, was a keyhole, and he and Eve were the key to unlock it. The log booby trap all but screamed that something was hidden there to be discovered.

Silence hung like a dark shadow over the camp when Jake returned with the morning fruit. He sat and chewed a banana and waited. His gut told him the women had discussed something. Either the outcome wasn’t unanimous, or they were nervous about telling him. Didn’t matter what they’d decided, he was going to explore that tunnel.

At his third banana, Eve spoke. “You can use my life vest for torches, but I’m not coming with you.” She dropped the vest at his feet. “I’m going to the pool. I’ll bring fruit back with me.”

Acid erupted like a hand grenade in his stomach. “I’d rather you back me up in the tunnel than go to the volcano with me. No telling what’s inside—”

“I want to get off this island, Jake, not explore its nooks and crannies.”

“I’m telling you, the volcano top isn’t the ticket off.”

“And the nooks and crannies are? If I’m going to waste my time, I’d rather do it at the pool.” She plucked a banana from the pile and sauntered to the stream. The steady splash of her feet marked her progress toward the jungle.

“That’s a low blow.” To his surprise, neither Betty nor Crystal responded. Did they agree with Eve? He glanced at them, but they looked away. “I’m going to need someone’s help.”

“I’m sorry, Jake, but I’m not crawling in there with you, and neither is Crystal.”

He picked up Eve’s life vest and huffed. “I don’t need someone to go in with me. I need one of you to stay at the entry. If for some reason I can’t find my way out, your voice will guide me back.”

At their silence, he slashed the vest into four pieces and stalked off to retrieve three sticks and several handfuls of dry grass and bark.

Betty frowned as he rejoined them. “Why isn’t the volcano top our ticket off?”

“Because the LoneSoldier died here. There is no ticket.”

Her mouth fell open. “You’re saying we’re stuck here?”

“I’m saying the island has secrets. Until we know them, we don’t know how to get off.”

He twisted the grass, fiber, and bark into three tight wads, wrapped the vest pieces around them, and attached them to the three sticks. All the while, Betty said nothing. Was she really going to let him go alone? He stood, swallowing back his anger. “I’ll need the lens to set a torch on fire.” Crystal handed it to him and he pocketed it.

Betty cleared her throat. “Crystal, will you go?”

Crystal’s chin quivered. “I don’t like the trench.”

Or the boogeyman in it? “I could use your help to make one more torch while I’m inside. Can you do that for me?”

She hesitated only a moment. “Okay.”

He didn’t give her time to change her mind. They gathered the necessary materials and took the shortcut over the rocky embankment straight into the trench. He tore away the dried grass covering the tunnel’s opening—what he hoped was a tunnel, anyway.

The hole was smaller than he expected. His mouth went dry. Would he be crawling into a booby trap? An animal’s lair? In the minefield, he’d at least known what its secret was.

“Let’s see if this material will light.” If not, he’d have to start over with pieces of the canvas sail. He focused the lens onto the fabric until a spot blackened and opened a hole to the combustible material inside. A nasty stink of burnt rubber pervaded the air.

He took his Bible from his pocket. “When you’re done making the torch, read this real loud into the tunnel and don’t stop until I return. Real loud, so I can hear you.”

How long would the torch last? He tucked the two unlit ones into his belt, poked the lighted one ahead of him into the tunnel, and squeezed through on his belly. The stench of the torch filled the enclosed space, burning his nostrils and throat. Then, suddenly, the odor dissipated.

His heart beat faster. The dim light of the torch revealed what had to be a man-made tunnel high enough for him to walk at a stoop. The floor was level, and the walls midway down were smooth, as if human hands had rubbed them, feeling their way through the passageway.

He counted his steps. At twenty, he bumped head on into a wall and smashed his torch. The smoldering bundle sagged precariously atop the stick. Holding his breath, he tugged the bottom of the fabric to pull the bundle back into place. The fire dimmed, then settled into a steady burn. As a precaution, he lit the second torch against its heat.

The passageway turned sharply to the right, its ceiling now above his reach. He straightened and raised the torch. The stale odor of decayed flesh assaulted his nostrils. He gagged, then inhaled sharply at what the torch revealed.

Twenty Japanese soldiers encircled him in a chamber of niches cut into the walls. Empty eye sockets gaped above grisly grins bared in death. Their uniforms, rotted by flesh, had collapsed onto their skeletons. Battle gear and a few personal possessions lay tucked against the side of each soldier.

The first torch sputtered out, and he discarded it. Clenching his teeth against the shivers spiking down his backbone, he examined the skeletal remains. Each man had a rifle, but a quick check revealed none had ammunition.

He huffed with satisfaction when he identified the remains of the officer in command. His katana sword, standard issue for Japanese officers, lay askew at his side. Jake picked it up and pulled it out of its scabbard. The blade was still sharp. He slid it back in, slipped the scabbard into his belt, and selected a couple of entrenching tools and two bayonets from other corpses.

What was that? The back of his neck tingled. Slowly, stomach tight, he turned around. The scant light of the torch fell on a dark mass occupying a ledge he had thought empty. The mass moved, bulging upward. A narrow head rose, identified by eyes glinting in the torchlight.

The air bolted from Jake’s lungs.

Snake!

Bayonets and shovels clattered to the floor. He whipped the katana sword out of its scabbard. With all his might he swung the blade straight down on the beast. Loosened by the jolt, the smoldering tip of the torch dropped onto his hand. He yelped and flung the torch to the floor. The flame winked, then went out.

Total darkness enveloped him.

He scrambled backwards until he was tight against the cave wall. Recognition of the serpent sucked the marrow from his bones: a giant python, more than capable of squeezing the life out of him. He must not,
must not
let those coils wrap around his body.

The monster’s thrashing ricocheted against the cave walls. He couldn’t tell which direction the noise came from. He lashed out again with the sword. The blade encountered only air. He kept slashing anyway.

The noise subsided. A faint scraping sound rose from the floor, then stopped. His own heavy breathing pulsated against his ears. He held his breath to get total silence.

Nothing.

Was the snake positioning itself outside its prey’s reach, getting ready to strike? Jake anticipated his head would be the target. He lunged forward again, flaying the sword. It hit nothing but air, the floor, the wall of the cave.

He backed against the wall and listened. Nothing. Only the sound of his labored breathing and the staccato of his heartbeat.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a speck of red on the floor. He caught his breath. A cocooned ember was glowing inside the disabled torch head. He snatched the third torch out of his belt and used the sword to scoop the ember and the unlit torch together.

Hair prickled on the back of his neck. He was taking a chance, making himself open to attack if the snake was waiting to strike. He gripped the hilt of the sword so it couldn’t be knocked out of his hand. The weapon was his only chance for survival.

Sweat drenched his shirt. His heart thudded at the thought of the monster’s coils wrapping around him. The snake would knock him off his feet . . . render him helpless . . . pin him down. Who was he kidding? The katana sword would be useless.

A tiny flame shot out as the third torch caught fire. Jake jerked it up and swept it in an arc. No snake. No massive pile positioned outside the reach of the sword. He moved the torch in a slower semicircle to make sure. When he was confident of his safety, he made a more thorough search of the cave.

A long section of the snake lay on the ground where it had been severed from the body. A bloody trail identified where the injured reptile had exited into a second passageway that led away from the one Jake had entered. Probably the escape tunnel he had expected to find instead of a burial chamber. 

The cave dust revealed the trail of a second giant snake in addition to the one he’d injured. No wonder there had been such a huge pile. Considering their sizes, they could have taken on about anything. Why hadn’t they attacked while he examined the corpses? Could the acrid smell of the torch have held them back?

His torch sputtered. No way he wanted to be in that darkness again. He stuffed the sword and tools into his belt, then grabbed the severed tail of the snake. After all, it was meat.

When he turned the corner, Crystal’s voice echoed in the tunnel. He’d forgotten all about her. What if the snakes had gone this way instead of out the other exit? His throat tightened.
Thank You, God, for Your sovereignty over snakes.

Softly, echoing in the chambers of his heart, came a response:
I am sovereign over explosions too.

No.

Jake halted. He tightened his grips on the python’s tail and the expiring torch.

Yes.

He forced himself to breathe. Yes, Lord, You are.

The torchlight died. He lowered himself to his hands and knees to avoid hitting his head when the passageway narrowed to its exit. The floor stung his kneecaps where they’d been cut on his crawl in.

I believe in Your total sovereignty, Lord
. The declaration gave him peace. No matter what, he was loyal to God. He tucked the affirmation into a safe place in his heart.

Crystal blew out a breath of relief at his appearance. “You were gone a long time.”

He gave her a hug, he was so glad to see her alive. “I found a burial chamber and used up all three torches looking around.”

She recoiled. “More lone soldiers?”

“Twenty of them.” He decided not to tell her about the snakes. “And look what else.” He reached into the tunnel and retrieved the sword, bayonets, and shovels.

She glanced at his precious booty as if it were covered in slime. “You aren’t going back in, are you?” She fingered the sad excuse for a torch she had assembled while waiting for him.

“No. But thank you for making the torch. Okay if we save it for later?”

“I know it needs fixing.”

“I’ll work on it some, but what counts is that you didn’t quit.” He grinned at her. “Neither the torch nor waiting on me.”

The corners of her mouth tipped up. “Here’s your Bible. Could you tell what I was reading?”

He hadn’t listened to a word of it. He slipped it into his pocket and picked up the supplies from the cave. “You can read it again while I work on your torch. But first, let’s get these back to camp. Then I’ve got one more thing to do while you tend to your aunt.”

On his return to the cave, he picked up two of the large seashells Crystal had stacked at the cove. He washed the snake carcass, removed its skin, and cut up the meat. All the while, he thought of the two monsters he had faced. Shells piled high with meat, he carried them with the same jubilation he was sure David had felt dragging Goliath’s head into camp.

Surely the three women would hail him as the conquering hero.