“Who is this guy?”
“I don’t know, but I’m willing to find out.”
The man stopped and turned to face them. He spoke in a hushed tone. Abby thought she could detect a slight accent—British, or maybe Australian. “My name is Robert. As you so eloquently put it, I did just save your ass. I’m a friend. You don’t have to follow me, but in my humble opinion, I believe it’s in your best interest to do so.” He turned and headed into the darkness.
Abby thought out loud, “Well, at least he seems to know where he’s going.” She walked into the darkness at the back of the cave, and Eric followed.
They walked for several minutes in the dark, unable to see much of anything. “Right here,” Robert said. “Crouch down on your hands and knees. You can’t see it, but we’re going to crawl under a wall of rock. The opening is only two-feet tall, so don’t pick up your head, or you’re likely to bump into it.”
They did as they were told. Abby got down on the damp, gritty ground and easily slipped her small frame through the opening. The space was not only short, but it was narrow. This caused Eric to have a bit more difficulty fitting through. After some effort, he managed to pull his shoulders close enough to his body and squeeze his way through to the other side. Once they were on the other side of the wall, they could see a faint glow in the distance, down a long, dim corridor. Once they were all on the other side, Robert pivoted a large, flat rock over the opening they had just crawled through. “To discourage visitors,” he said.
They walked down the path toward the faint light and came to an open area within the cave. When they walked into the area, the firelight revealed the space. It was a large, round room, maybe twenty feet around. On the far side was an opening about six-feet wide, to the outside. Through the opening, Abby could see the moonlight reflecting off the distant ocean, past the tree line.
“Welcome to my home,” he said, smiling.
Abby looked around and saw it was primitive, but well-appointed at the same time. There was a bed of sorts to their right. It looked to be mostly a pile of soft grasses covered with a large piece of canvas. There was a table and some makeshift chairs on the left. Abby wondered if there were as many people living here as there were chairs. She looked around but did not see anyone else.
A small indent in the wall seemed to serve as a fireplace. There was even a beat-up, metal teakettle resting on a hook next to it, close enough to keep the water warm. A slow wisp of steam rose from the spout. On another small table, there were a few plates, mugs, and kitchen essentials stacked neatly. In the center of the table stood a three-foot-tall, stainless-steel cylinder with a spout at the bottom, though she couldn’t figure out what purpose it served.
Robert saw her looking at it. “Water purifier. It works by gravity. You just pour a few liters into the top at night, and by morning, the base is filled with fresh, clean water.”
“Ah.”
“The British Army has been using those things in the field forever.”
It was definitely a hint of a British accent Abby had detected.
“So, you live here?” Eric asked.
“This is where I call home, yes.”
“And where is here, exactly?” Abby asked.
He laughed. “You don’t know where you are, do you?”
Abby looked around. “No, no, we don’t. It might sound funny to you, but we really need to get some answers.”
Robert took on a serious look. “All right, well, this is an island.”
“Obviously.”
“Let me finish. It is a very small island in the Philippines archipelago. There are roughly seven-thousand islands. This particular one does not have a name; I have just always called it home.”
Eric and Abby exchanged a confused look.
“My geography is a little rough,” Eric said. “How far are we from Texas?”
Robert laughed. “Oh, pretty far, I would say. We are in the South China Sea, a few thousand kilometers south of Japan.” Robert saw the confused look on Eric’s face and translated for the American, “About two-thousand miles.”
A bit overwhelmed, Eric sat on one of the unsteady chairs. “Two-thousand miles south of Japan?”
“How did we get here?” Abby wondered aloud, not so much looking for an answer. She just had to put a voice to the thought in her head.
“That, I don’t know,” Robert said. “I saw you for the first time when you were on the mountaintop earlier. How long have you been here?”
Abby tried to do some math but was feeling very fuzzy and a bit faint. “I’m really not sure.” She gave Eric a confused look. “A couple days, I guess.”
He nodded his head in agreement.
Robert was suddenly struck by a thought. “Are the two of you hungry? Would you like something to eat? I’m sure I have something around here.”
“I know I haven’t eaten in a day or so,” Abby said, “but I’m not real hungry.”
Robert took the teakettle and poured some hot water into two mugs, mixing in some dried leaves. He handed them each a mug. “Peppermint tea,” he said. “You both look awful. Have a drink and get some rest. In the morning, you will have some food, whether you’re hungry or not, and I will tell you what little I know. I’m going to sit up for awhile and make sure we don’t get any visitors.”
He looked at Abby and gave her a warm, familiar smile, like she was an old friend, and he was happy she had stopped by.
She watched as Robert disappeared out of the opening and into the darkness beyond. Maybe it was his accent, or his soft-spoken voice. Maybe it was that he had just saved her life. Whatever it was, Abby felt very at ease with Robert. He was both familiar and comforting, even though they had just met. She needed precious little encouragement and lay down on the surprisingly comfortable bed after downing her warm, minty tea. Eric finished his and stretched out on the stone floor next to the bed.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Getting comfortable.”
“Get up here,” she said, patting the canvas next to her. “There is plenty of room.”
He did not need to be asked twice and quickly settled into a spot next to her. They lay there, awake, surrounded by darkness, except for the diminishing glow of the fire. After a long wait, he broke the silence. “Can I ask you something?”
She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “What is it?”
“Where did you learn to be such a badass?”
She laughed and put her hand on his chest.
“Seriously, you were something else back there. I didn’t even know what was happening. You took them all down and had us running in about thirty seconds flat!”
She laughed harder. “I don’t even know.” After a pause, she said, “I don’t seem to recognize myself since I’ve been here.” Abby thought about that as she lay in bed next to Eric. Her small body took up very little space next to his. The only sounds were their breathing, and the occasional crack of the embers in the fire.
She had never been a confident person—and certainly never physically capable. Not like what had happened back at the fire, anyway. She had always been more of a follower; one to keep her head down in tough situations and let people push her around.
Maybe she was tired of getting pushed around; tired of having her life lived for her; tired of an endless parade of the wrong people. She wondered if maybe something had finally clicked back on the beach, when she decided to get her life in order. Apparently, she was done with that and was on her way to discovering her inner fighter. She smiled as she started drifting off. Whatever this place is, she thought, I have a feeling that my life will never be the same.
6
ABBY HAD SLEPT like the dead, but her stomach woke her in the morning. She stretched and opened her eyes to the smell of food—and to her surprise, coffee. Sitting up, she tried to remember the last time she ate. Climbing out of bed and looking around, she realized she was alone. She walked over to the fire to check the steaming, cast-iron pot
that was hanging on the hook next to it.
It was some sort of stew of meat, potatoes, and carrots. That will do, she thought. She scooped herself a bowl, sat down, and just about licked it clean in three minutes flat. Sitting back, she was entirely full. She thought she should have a bigger appetite, given that it had been a while since she’d had anything to eat. Her stomach wasn’t used to having food in it, though, so she figured she would take it slow.
She found the source of the inviting aroma calling to her. Warming on a flat rock next to the fire was a well-worn, metal, percolator-style coffee pot. She remembered her grandfather using one of those on their camping trips when she was a girl. The coffee grounds sat in a basket at the top. The pot rested over the fire until the water boiled and perked up through a tube, then back down through the grounds. She remembered thinking that the device was very clever when she was young; being able to make coffee without electricity. She also remembered that it made a strong cup of coffee—or maybe that was just how her grandfather liked it. He used to say he learned to like coffee when he was in the Navy. He told her they had two uses for coffee on the heavy cruiser he had served on: To wake up in the morning and to strip paint off the side of the ship.
She poured herself a cup of very black—and what smelled like very strong—coffee. Looking around to find some milk, cream, or sugar, she finally remembered where she was. Straight-up black would have to do.
Venturing outside, she found Eric sitting on a large stone and taking in the view. The tree line began just far down enough that they could see the blue ocean in the distance. It was gorgeous.
He gave her a big smile, dimples and all. “Mornin’.”
“Good morning indeed,” she said.
He held up his coffee. “Not bad, huh?”
She smiled. “I’ll take it.”
“How’d you like the rabbit?”
She nearly choked on her coffee. “Rabbit? That was rabbit?”
He was laughing. “Yeah. What did you think it was?”
Nodding her head and smiling, she said, “It was actually the best rabbit I’ve ever had.”
Robert came out of the trees. “She’s alive!” He chuckled. “I have never seen anyone sleep quite so soundly.”
Abby was a bit startled and didn’t recognize Robert at first, until she realized she was seeing him for the first time in the daylight. Last night, both in the trees and in the cave, he had been visible only by the moonlight and the dim firelight. His longish hair and short-trimmed beard had been obvious in the shadowy light, but otherwise, she would not have recognized him. In the daylight, after a fine rabbit stew and some strong coffee, she finally had a good look at their savior.
He was a tall man; just a bit shorter than Eric, but probably twenty years older. She would guess him to be somewhere in his fifties. His light brown hair, hanging just below his ears, may have made him look younger—if not for the white hair around his temples and throughout his beard. He had a rugged, yet distinguished look about him, and given his deep tan, he had obviously spent a good deal of time outdoors. He walked with confidence when he approached her, and his easy smile dissolved any anxiety she may have had after waking up and remembering her situation. There was only one way to describe his smile: He was genuinely happy to see her, as if meeting up with an old friend.
“Well, I appreciate the bed, and the breakfast. Pretty nice place you have here. Great view, too. What’s your nightly rate?”
“You are welcome to stay as long as you like. It is nice to have company.” He went inside and emerged a few minutes later with a mug of his own, then sat next to her.
She nudged him with her mug. “So, you seem pretty comfortable. How long have you been here?”
“Oh, I have been here for quite a while,” he said, looking out past the trees, toward the water in the distance.
“How long is quite a while?”
“I stopped counting after a few years.”
Eric whistled. “Man... and you don’t know how you wound up here, either?”
“Oh, no, I know exactly how I got here. It was on purpose; not to worry. I had the money, and basically just said, ‘I want to get away from everything, and everyone.’ I had taken a holiday at an island a few hours from here and fell in love with the geography.”
“So, you bought this island?” she asked.
“No, it’s not mine. I made friends with some of the locals and started wondering if I could live on one of these islands. There are literally thousands of them. Would anyone know or bother to care? The answer was, probably not. So, I put together what I needed: The basic stuff you see around here, some seeds, and other essential supplies, so I could grow and trap my food. I chartered a boat to drop me off.” He winked at her. “Been here ever since.”
“Well, that’s certainly one way to get away from it all,” Eric observed.
They sat in silence for a bit before Abby said, “Why don’t the boats turn around?”
“What is that?” Robert seemed confused.
“Yesterday, we lit that signal fire. The guy with the beard said he’s lit a bunch of fires, but no one ever turns around, and no one ever comes for help. Why is that?”
Robert thought about it. “Who is to say anyone needs help? If a boat went to the rescue every time they saw smoke coming from one of these seven-thousand islands, they would spend all their time hopping from island to island.”
“I guess it makes sense when you put it that way.” Abby paused. “What’s with that guy, anyway—or all of them, for that matter? What’s their story?”
“I can’t say that I know, but they certainly do not seem friendly. I have managed to stay out of their way until this point, and I’m planning to keep it that way.”
“You’re tellin’ me,” Eric said.
“So, how do we get off this rock?”
“Yeah,” Eric chimed in. “There’s another island right over there. Can’t be ten miles away.”
Abby looked toward where he was pointing. “What’s there?” she asked Robert.
“I imagine there are a few folks over there, just like most of these places.”
“How do we get there?”
“I suppose you would have to build a boat or swim—though I would not recommend either. There are some nasty currents around here.”
Abby spoke. “So, you don’t know why we’re basically invisible to boats, why there’s a maniac tossing sacks over our heads, why we might be here in the first place, what’s on the only other piece of land in sight from here, or how we might get there. Is there anything that you do know?”
Robert didn’t skip a beat. “I know how to survive here. I know that. I have been doing it quite nicely for some time now. This is my home, and you seem like decent people, so I would like to help. But, that’s about all I can offer you—survival.”
Abby thought about that. “Don’t you worry about those people finding you?”
“Not too much. They have not been here all that long, and I know this place better than anyone. Besides, I rarely leave my little enclave, and there are only two ways to get up here. You either have to come in the way we did last night, or you have to scale a bare, twenty-yard cliff face that circles us about a quarter-mile out in each direction.” He winked at her. “No one is coming up here to surprise me.”
They spent the afternoon with Robert. He showed them how to find some fruits and other things to eat. They also learned that locating water was easy on that side of the island, given the plentiful streams that flowed down the mountainside. He gave Abby a water purification bag. It looked like it was just a clear plastic bag, but he explained it was a made of a special material. She could fill the bag with water—even saltwater—and let it sit in the sun. The material in the bag interacted with the water to purify it, removing toxins, or anything else they should not be drinking.
That evening, they enjoyed a big dinner. Robert grew potatoes, carrots, beans of all kinds, and salad greens. They indulged in it all to th
eir hearts’ content. They also enjoyed some fresh rabbit that Robert taught Abby how to trap. She proclaimed it the “second-best rabbit I’ve ever had.” Nothing could beat their first real meal in at least three days.
After dinner, they built a fire and sat in silence, enjoying the warm, flickering firelight and the view of the setting sun over the island, out in the distance. Abby and Eric had been watching the island on and off all day, hoping to see some signs of life. They had hoped to see some boats in the water, or anything else that might indicate it was a destination worth trying to reach. So far, they had not seen anything.
They sat for hours, enjoying their full stomachs, and the beauty of the place. They were also enjoying a very tasty wine that Robert said he’d made from wild blackberries growing all over the mountainside. It would never be served in a fine restaurant, but it was very fine for this occasion, and their situation. It was fruity and very strong. Abby didn’t know much about wine, but she liked the warm feeling each sip of the deep purple drink gave her. Robert turned in not long after it was completely dark, leaving Abby and Eric on their own.
Eric was looking up. “I don’t remember the last time I saw stars like this.”
Abby admired the sky, as well. “I remember seeing them like this when I was a little girl. Our family used to camp up north. There were no big cities around for a hundred miles. It was beautiful.” She looked at him. He was a handsome man. He had a few days’ worth of beard growing in. She decided she liked the rugged look.
“Check that out,” he said, almost jumping to his feet. He pointed toward the island, out at sea.
Standing, Abby looked into the distance, and there it was—the flickering of lights. Not fires, either. Those were electric lights. There was a small cluster of them toward one side of the island, and on the other side, there was a larger cluster. Certainly, it wasn’t a thriving metropolis, but there were definitely people over there. At least, more people than there were here. Plus, they had electricity. She assumed with that came communication with the outside world—and more specifically, a way to get them home.
Escape, the Complete Trilogy Page 5
