Summer by Summer (26 page)

Over the next two days, Bray’s fever returned, left, and returned again. I’d force-fed him enough water to keep him alive, but the supply was dwindling and he lost so much when he had the bouts of
sweating, I knew we were hitting a danger zone. After the first two baths, I switched to sea water, but the damage was done. Our fresh water supply was almost out. If Bray didn’t turn the corner soon, I’d have to go to the lake for more. He couldn’t live without water. I’d even rationed my share, and drank as much green coconut milk as possible. Still, as I stared down into the nearly empty cooler, I knew there was no other way. I waited until early evening to leave the hut. Bray had been tossing and turning all day, and I knew he’d be exhausted and sleep while I was gone. There was no way I could carry the cooler, so I grabbed the rope and the plastic container we often carried water in and headed toward the lake. After just leaving the campsite, I returned, grabbed the spear and the machete, and went into the jungle.

I didn’t love traversing the jungle alone, but didn’t hate it either. The only thing that really bothered me was knowing a hungry crocodile had claimed our lake as his honey hole. Maybe he’d moved on . . . not that there were a lot of places to move to, but I kept hoping.

When I paused at the edge of the clearing, his evidence was everywhere. Long, swirling lines leading in and out of the water, brush disturbed and flattened at the edges. Oh, yes. He was here to stay.

I stepped out and waited. There was no sound, so I crept a little closer to the lake. I’d just decided to run, dunk the container, and get out of there as fast as I could when the trees to the right of me shifted. It came charging forward, hundreds of pounds of muscled green monster up on all fours and moving fast as lightning. I bolted to the tree line, tripped over a stump, and half expected its jaws to clamp down on my leg. I’d bleed to death. Or be eaten. Neither option sounded good, so I dug my fingers into the ground, catapulted myself to my feet, and ran, in the process dropping the machete and spear. The croc stopped. A tall palm became my leaning post as I contemplated my next move. After long consideration
and knowing my likelihood of success was minimal, I trekked around the left side of the lake. But when I started to enter the clearing, there it was, running me off again.

Hands to my knees, the tears came. We could do this all night and I’d still not end up with any water. I stepped just inside the clearing to grab the machete. Angry, I shook it at the croc that waited at the water’s edge, daring me to try again. “There’s no other water!” I screamed. “Stupid animal! We don’t have any other water!” My screams became sobs, and I was thankful no one was around to hear.

I’d failed. I brushed the angry tears from my eyes and added in a defeated whisper, “We were here first.” What was I going to do? I didn’t know if Bray could make it through another night without fresh water. Shoulders curled forward, I headed for the hut. The far-off cry of some unknown sea bird caused me to lift my head just as I entered a clearing. It squawked, tilted its wings, and landed on the mountainside in the distance.

The mountain.

I dropped everything at my feet, planning to come back and get it later. With only the plastic container and the rope, I ran full speed to the mountain cave.

CHAPTER 15

Summer

It was nearly dark, but I’d already considered my options. This was it. I knew it would be dark inside the cave, but there was no other way. With any luck, I could fill the container in the front room where the water dribbled from the cave wall. But there was the possibility that I’d have to go all the way inside through that tight, frightening section. I wasn’t sure I could do it. But first, I had to climb the mountain. And this time I was alone, already tired, and in the dark.

I closed my eyes, said a prayer, and started climbing. A half-moon cast enough light that I could see each handhold above me, but not enough for me to tell how far I’d climbed. Beyond a few feet above or below, everything faded to black. Probably just as well. When I made it to the first landing, I knew how far I’d come and how far there was to go. Hair had slipped from where I’d tucked it in my shirt, so I gathered it behind me, did a quick braid, and tied it with a piece of vine.

It was fully dark now, no sun, just moonlight and stars above. My legs ached already, so I gave myself a minute to rest, head against the rock behind me, hands splayed on either side. I closed my eyes.
Something tickled across my neckline, and I first thought it was the vine, but when it crawled beneath my shirt, I leapt up, screaming. My hand flew into my shirt, clawing first at the neck, and then at my shoulder as it moved. I grabbed it, dragged it out, and flung it to the ground, still wiggling in my hand. The spider crouched on the rock for a few moments, its stick legs spread. It was half the size of my hand. I kicked it off the ledge.

Maybe something in me snapped right there. Rope around my shoulder and container dangling from it, I climbed. I didn’t look down, didn’t think, just concentrated on each step and each handhold. It felt like it took forever, but knowing I could help Bray fueled me. With every step I found, I made certain I was solid before moving to the next foothold. This made the trek a little slower, but having traversed it before helped my confidence. By the time I made it to the top, I was exhausted. But I didn’t dare rest for long. There was no telling what might crawl into my clothing, so I stood, hands pressed hard against my knees, and pulled breath after breath.

There was only the smallest shaft of moonlight inside the cave, meaning I’d have to feel my way to the wall where water flowed. I mustered. Hands flat against the rock, and ready to shake off whatever night crawlers I might come in contact with, I found my way to the dripping wall. The trickle of water wasn’t as loud as it had been, and dipping my finger into the small pool told me what I expected. Only the tip of my index finger was wet. I closed my eyes.

There was no choice. I’d have to go into the other room. I’d have to go through the place where I’d panicked until Bray dragged me from the entrance. Baby steps led me deeper until I reached the crossroads that would direct me through the winding, ever-closing tunnel. I tried to visualize it in my head, how I’d had to twist and turn to get through. And the wall. The spot where my lungs closed for business and shrank to the size of a pea.

My best defense was to stay calm, but as I crept along and the
tunnel became smaller, tighter in the pitch-dark, and my hands had to press around me just to find which way to go, my calm slipped farther and farther away. It was hard to breathe. Each breath was saturated with the carbon dioxide I’d just exhaled, and I knew my blood was filling with it. Spots appeared before my eyes. Hands trembling, I shuffled, but hit a wall. Frantically, my hands moved, first searching, then pounding the rock around me, trying to make the space bigger. It was crushing me. My fingers found their way up above my head. I stretched each digit out, groping for the surface. Air. There was the slightest flow of air. My concentration centered on it. I couldn’t tell where I was. How far I’d come. It seemed I’d been right here in this spot forever just waiting for the rocks to shift and crush me. Hands slick with sweat grew colder on the back side. The air came from behind me. With a ten-point turn, I shuffled my body until I’d completely spun around. Hands flew out in front of me where, to my side, I saw the opening. One strong shaft of moonlight entered the ceiling of the pool room, and with a grunt I was in it and out of danger.

I paused for only a minute, then filled the container, lifted it to my lips, and drank my fill. The water ran down my chin and over me like a cleansing rain. I filled the container again, placed on the lid, and headed back. Having navigated the tunnel in the dark, I had a strong mental picture of the twists and turns. I left my eyes closed and imagined each protrusion, each swell of cave wall. Before long — and without panicking — I was in the first room of the cave.

Using the rope, I secured the container to my waist and headed down the mountain. The moon had shifted, so there was a bit more light going down. Having the extra weight of the water worried me at first, but after I reached the landing near the bottom, I’d grown accustomed to the unbalance. I’d taken the express route down, but worried that the last jump would jar the water open. I wrapped my
T-shirt around it for a little extra padding, cradled it against me as much as possible, and leapt. The water sloshed inside, but the lid remained intact.

On solid ground, I started to take another drink, but decided not to. Bray needed as much as I could give him, and I could drink coconut milk when I got back. Maybe, if he was feeling better, he could drink some of it too. Coconut was full of nutrients. As of yet, he hadn’t been able to keep it down.

Back at the hut, I ran inside the bedroom and lifted the drink to his lips.

He took tiny sips and lay back.

Throughout the night, I roused him every fifteen minutes. Each time he was able to drink a little more.

“I thought we were running low on water,” he said, voice scratchy.

“I got some.”

“You can’t go off alone. Too dangerous.”

“Yeah, well. I thought I saw a ship on the horizon.”

He chuckled.

“Feeling better?”

He nodded.

“Good. Try to get some sleep.”

I didn’t bother to tuck him in. Just rose, put the lid on the water, and headed for the door.

“Summer?”

“Yes?”

“What paper did you use to keep me warm?”

My eyes closed, hand clamping on the doorjamb. “Why does it matter?”

“What paper, Summer? I found a piece and it had writing on it.”

Man. I thought I’d cleaned it all up. “The stories were put to good use.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d used up
all
the paper, written on every last page. Isn’t that crazy?” I turned to face him.

“But they’re all gone now.” He sounded so sad that I turned and headed back to the bed.

“No. They’re not gone. They’re here.” I took his hand in mine and spread his fingers. I pressed his open palm against my heart.

Heat flashed in Bray’s eyes, and I realized he was definitely feeling better. I plucked his hand from my heart and lifted it to my face. “It’s the
writing
I love. Not having the stories. Besides, you would have done the same thing for me.”

“Nah. I would have depended completely on body heat.”

“Oh. You remember that, do you?” My face warmed. I’d sort of hoped he wouldn’t.

“In fact, I’m feeling pretty chilled right now.” He tugged at me.

I fought. It was no contest, he had no strength. “Okay, Tiger. Time to rest. You can prowl tomorrow.”

He took my hand, kissed it. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay, then. Goodnight, future Mrs. Garrison.”

My heart squeezed.
Future Mrs. Garrison.
Wow. That would take some getting used to.

Bray rolled onto his side and slept. Me, I stayed wide awake, staring at my future husband.

Bray

By morning, I felt human again. Summer had saved my life. But at the same time, I knew the water wasn’t from the lake. It tasted different.

The thought of Summer making that trip stopped my heart. We couldn’t live like this, survive like this. The mountain was too
dangerous. Sooner or later, one of us would fall. There was only one choice open to me, and I wasn’t looking forward to it.

I spent the morning in the ocean bathing the general gunk of sickness off me. Summer kept a steady supply of coconut oil on hand — she’d taught herself how to extract it by placing a small pot into a large pot with the coconut meat between, then she’d fill the smaller pot with rocks and press until oil gathered along the edge. She’d pour off the drops of oil and begin again. We now had a glass bottle half filled, so I used the fragrant stuff on my skin and some on my hair.

The sun was already high in the sky when Summer emerged from the hut. “Good morning, Princess.”

She pointed toward the jungle. “Off with his head.”

I met her on the porch and handed her a shell of coffee. I didn’t want to tell her, but the caffeine supply was running low.

She took it and forced a smile through her morning grumblies. “It’s good to see you up and around.”

I slid my hands to her waist. “It’s good to see you anytime.”

“You’re definitely feeling better.” She leaned closer and sniffed. “Smell better too.”

“So, you’ll sit with me?”

She nodded, letting the morning breeze work in her hair. “Since you made coffee.”

We nestled onto the swing, Summer tucking her feet beneath her. “What was wrong with you, Bray?”

“I have no idea. It was like the flu. But, uh, since there’s no one here but us, I don’t see how I could have caught it.”

She curled both hands around her shell mug — just like she did every morning. I loved it.

“I’m sorry about all your writing. Did you try to salvage any of it?”

“It was all soaked with sweat, Bray. But I don’t care about the paper. I wish you would get that through your thick head.” For
emphasis, she deemed it necessary to reach up and knock on my scalp.