Marooned

by Travis Smith

  “Why would Resin believe you’d want to betray us?” Patrick asked. The man was an oaf and a brute, but he couldn’t be that simple.

  “Because he’s a fool,” Olivia assured. “I will tell him you wanted only to sell me to another town north of here for a large sum.”

  Patrick narrowed his eyes, still uncertain about the concept of trading something—or someone—of value for a lump of metal. Philip and Jake glanced at each other, both clearly not following the idea either.

  Olivia rolled her eyes. “Trust me. This paga they’re passing around is the way of the world now. Nothing holds value in their eyes but the coin. It matters not what I tell him, anyway. He will beat me for leaving and demand that I take him to you four. He won’t allow himself to be slighted and robbed at the hands of four boys. He’ll march a large crew right into a one-way canyon or gulley that we pick, and we’re done. Trap them inside and do whatever it is you villains think you need to do.”

  A heavy silence hung for quite a while. Brandon plopped by the fire and plucked at grass wearing a lock-jawed expression of petulance. It was a decent plan, at least compared to the other overzealous rushes into battle they’d conjured over the past several days. Plenty could go wrong—Resin could let bygones be bygones and embrace his treasured daughter home without retribution; Olivia could run into her town only to find that everyone else was already gone and looking for the boys who’d robbed them; her father could be so hasty and irrational as to put a bullet in her head the moment she opened the door.

  “Let’s do it!” Philip yelled.

  Jake fluffed his new young-man’s beard out from underneath his chin and winked at his younger friend. Patrick smiled at Olivia, who returned a smile in kind.

  Brandon continued moodily plucking grass and tossing the blades into the fire. “I won’t have any part of it,” he said.

  Philip opened his mouth to say something, but Brandon cut him off.

  “And Olivia ain’t doin’ it.”

  Olivia shot an indignant sneer at Brandon and turned to storm back into the forest.

  Brandon moved to chase after her. “Ya can’t just run off alone!”

  “I’ll go,” Patrick said, already on his feet and placing a hand on Brandon’s shoulder. “I’ll talk some sense into her,” he lied.

  10

  Patrick found Olivia seated with her back to a stump just as she’d found him many days before. Her eyes glistened in the dim light of the setting sun.

  “He’s being so short-sighted,” she said as Patrick approached.

  He knelt beside her and offered a smile that hung loosely below sad, understanding eyes. “He’s just worried about you.”

  “Well, he can’t ordain my every action. Do you want to do this, or not?”

  “Of course I want this,” Patrick assured her. “I think the others want it, too, but Brandon cares for you. His emotions have clouded his judgment. I doubt he means you any insult.”

  “I love him …” she said. Olivia looked at Patrick at last, and he was immediately lost again inside her eyes.

  “Do you?”

  “I … yes. But there are more important things in the world now.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” Patrick replied, barely understanding the words coming out of his own mouth.

  “You’re so different,” she mused.

  “Well, yes,” Patrick agreed. He knew he was different. He didn’t fit in with the other boys. He likely wouldn’t fit in anywhere in this world anymore. “I’m … changed.”

  “I think we have that in common.”

  “Well, you and Brandon—” he began. His mouth was dry, and he hadn’t blinked in quite some time.

  “Stop talking about Brandon.”

  Before Patrick knew what was happening, his lips were pressed against Olivia’s. In that instant, nothing else mattered. Not a worry or woe remained in his overworked mind. Not whether Brandon would find out, not whether Resin would slay them all where they stood, not whether those responsible for the horrors in Onton would live to continue their depraved decrees—nothing. All that remained was her skin against his own.

  His breath hung heavy in his chest like a dense autumn fog resting atop the shore. In a moment, reality would flood back into his mind, but even then it would remain dulled for a time by the exaltation surrounding this moment.

  When he withdrew from her lips, a silence that was not altogether unpleasant sat between them. He had to break eye contact and glance off at the setting sun while he struggled to appear calm as he caught his breath.

  “Why did you do that?” she asked. Her tone was equivocal.

  Because Patrick could think of not a single word to say in response, he blinked and found himself pressed against her again. Chunks of time were sliding away like massive heaps of snow in a deadly avalanche, and he could feel himself losing traction and slipping, too. Her bosom pressed against his flat, skinny chest; her hand fell upon his waist and pulled him closer; her hair got caught in between their lips and slipped into his mouth; and Patrick was aware of none of this. His brain may as well have been a puddle, and he would have allowed her to pull him by his wrist right over the edge of the earth if she had been so inclined.

  Patrick pulled away at last and sat back in the fallen leaves. They both smiled and fidgeted, each not knowing quite what to say.

  “Well?” she said at last.

  “Well,” Patrick agreed. “I thought your plan was good.”

  11

  The next day, Olivia and Brandon quietly quarreled in the distance. When Brandon approached the other boys, Patrick swallowed hard, awaiting an outburst that never came. Olivia walked in the other direction toward the trees.

  “Where is she off to?” Patrick asked, struggling to sound casual.

  “She believes she’s out lookin’ for a canyon for her silly plan,” Brandon replied, dropping to his bottom in a huff.

  Patrick watched her go, fighting against an insurmountable impulse to chase after her again. When she reached the tree line, she turned back to the group. Her eyes did not fall upon Brandon, but upon Patrick. She allowed a small smirk to twitch onto her lips before turning back and disappearing into the shadows. The look alone spoke silent volumes to Patrick, who glanced at Brandon to see if he’d noticed—he hadn’t.

  Patrick stood and announced, “I suppose I’d better help scout, then. This is my design, after all.” He hustled off without another word until he reached Olivia in the forest.

  “It looked like you weren’t going to join me,” Olivia mused.

  “Well, I didn’t know if you wanted to be alone …”

  “That didn’t seem to hinder you yesterday.”

  “I apologize if I was … eager before,” he offered.

  “No need.”

  After walking in a short silence, he began, “So, are you and Brandon—?”

  Olivia shrugged her shoulders.

  “I don’t want to … get in the middle.”

  She rolled her eyes playfully. “Sure you do.”

  “Well, not if you don’t want me to.”

  “Do you believe that I don’t?”

  Patrick thought for a moment. He again saw her glance back over her shoulder and flash her little smirk in his direction. “In truth, I do not believe that.”

  Olivia smiled. “I told you, there’s just something different about you. I enjoy your company.”

  “And I am pleased to provide it.”

  “You take me much more seriously than Brandon ever has.”

  Patrick considered this before he spoke again. As they walked, they emerged from the tree line opposite their campsite and were at the foothills of the Klippa Mountains. Instead of searching for a canyon, however, Olivia sat at the ledge of a sloping cliff that steepened into an expansive gorge as it approached the base of the nearest mountain.

  As he sat down beside her, Patrick finally responded. “You and I share experiences Brandon could never understand.”

  “Yes,�
�� she agreed, “he will never understand me.”

  “He’s fortunate in that regard,” Patrick said. “You mustn’t fault him.”

  The pair sat and enjoyed easy conversation together until the sun was well below the tops of the mountains before them. Patrick dwelled for a moment on a concern about whether or not he should kiss her again, and he found that the second time was far more frightening than the first. After a while, however, the thought crept away as he lost himself in the simple pleasure of sharing words with another individual—a pleasure he’d previously thought he’d lost for good.

  12

  The following days remained tense. Philip and Jake continued to try keeping motivation high by sharing new plans, each less realistic than the last. Brandon and Olivia continued squabbling over how to proceed. Olivia insisted on carrying on as though everyone had agreed to her plan. Each day she set off to scout for a suitable canyon to lure the men from her town into. Brandon continually refused to accompany her, much to Patrick’s delight. Instead, he divided his time between foraging for food and sitting moodily beside the ashes of the previous night’s fire.

  The group sat around their campsite after several days of inaction. Olivia and Patrick had wandered off alone each day, but they had effectively accomplished nothing aside from flirting and escaping their grim reality through conversation. Patrick’s sense of urgency still burned in his gut, but he feared making a move to get the group headed back toward Mitten would disrupt the delicate balance that existed between himself, Olivia, and Brandon. Deep down he knew things could not continue with Olivia without Brandon finding out, and he couldn’t afford to consider what may occur at that time, so he settled for repeating the same fruitless routine day after day.

  “We’re never gonna be able to pull this off,” Brandon said. “We must away while we still have the legs to carry us.”

  “Everyone has decided to go through with this. If you cannot think of a better way, then we’ll just do it without you,” Olivia said.

  “Any way is a better way!” he yelled. “We just risked all our lives to get you outta there, and I’ll be damned before I let you walk right back in!”

  “You rescued me from being enslaved and passed around for paga so that you may determine exactly what I do or don’t?” she snapped back.

  “That is untrue. I simply ain’t gonna risk you getting trapped back there again!”

  “What is the value of any of this if we don’t put a stop to the spreading tyranny?” She motioned toward Patrick for encouragement.

  Patrick nodded. “She’s right, Brandon.”

  “You may have fooled everyone here into going along with your idea, but I won’t be a part of this any longer. Come sunup, I’m packing the camp and headin’ back through the mountains before monsoon season hits us, or worse.”

  “You cannot be serious,” Olivia pleaded.

  “You all may accompany me, or stay and entertain this foolishness until you get yourselves killed in the dead of night,” he said to the group. “This has gone on long enough.”

  “We’ll accompany you just as soon as we finish what we agreed upon,” Olivia spoke for everyone else. Patrick nodded in somber agreement, but Jake and Philip fidgeted, looking conflicted.

  Brandon scoffed and shook his head. “You’ll never see me again,” he muttered.

  “Well, then, perhaps that’s for the best!” Olivia yelled before storming off.

  Patrick followed like an obedient pet.

  “I know y’all ain’t scoutin’,” Brandon called after him. “Sun’ll be down ’fore you make it to the canyon!”

  Patrick caught up to Olivia and walked through the small forest by her side in silence. When the trees broke, she sat in the small patch of grass that would soon transition to desert soil that wound its way down into the canyons and up the rocky mountainside.

  “He’s losing me,” she said, still visibly shaking with frustration. “He’s losing everyone.”

  “I don’t know if Philip and Jake are truly committed to helping us,” Patrick said with more than a hint of concern.

  Olivia shook her head. “Then we’ll do it alone.”

  “Olivia, I cannot ask that of you.”

  She turned her head and snapped, “Don’t speak to me like he.”

  Patrick nodded and held his tongue.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out to touch Patrick’s hand. “I’m just so tired of being the burden.”

  “You aren’t a burden. Everyone just wants you safe.” Patrick allowed her hand to caress his own as he watched the mountain sunset one last time.

  “More so than you want each other safe? You would have already done this thing if I weren’t around.”

  Patrick shrugged. “Emotions get in the way of clear thinking …”

  “So you share the same emotions as Brandon for me?” she asked.

  Patrick swallowed hard and finally turned his gaze to meet hers. Her face was impossibly close to his own. He felt his mouth dry up in an instant. “I—” he stammered, but her lips had already found his.

  She slid her hand up his chest and placed it gently on the angle of his jaw, pulling his face ever deeper into her own as she climbed atop him and pushed him onto his back in the grass. Patrick’s mind went blank and his body limp. In that moment, he would have allowed her to physically remove his beating heart from his chest—and that wasn’t too far from what she would actually do.

  13

  As the light of day transitioned to dusk and, eventually, darkness, Olivia relieved Patrick of his last remaining shred of boyhood that had survived his nightmarish time in Onton. Patrick’s senses were flooded with overwhelming stimuli. He struggled to take in the beauty and divinity of the experience. With her already breathtaking charm, when Olivia removed her smock and pulled Patrick’s hand up to her soft breasts, she turned his brain to mush. The stupor he slipped into would implant naive words such as love and soulmate into his young mind and threaten to consume him for much of his remaining adolescent life.

  When the act was done, Olivia collapsed onto her back in the grass beside Patrick. Still maintaining every bit of the control, she pulled her younger companion close and buried her face in his neck. Patrick wrapped an arm around her and struggled to keep his heavy breathing from becoming too obvious to Olivia, who seemed as nonchalant as though she’d just finished a light meal.

  He relished the faint tingle dissipating from his groin and breathed a heavy sigh as his legs quivered.

  “Was that okay?” Olivia asked at last, whispering into his ear.

  Patrick chortled and smiled. His mind still raced, and, if words existed to convey his emotions, he was in no state to pluck them from within, so he settled on gazing at the stars in the dark night sky.

  “I shall take that as agreement,” Olivia whispered, pulling herself closer to Patrick. “I’m very pleased to have met you, you know.”

  Patrick nodded and embraced the continued fluttering in his chest.

  A muffled commotion arose suddenly in the distance.

  Olivia bolted upright onto her elbows. “Is that back at camp?”

  “I’m not sure …” Patrick replied in a forced whisper.

  They lay in silence a moment longer, both trying to make out the voices.

  “It sounds like someone is yelling,” Olivia observed. At that moment, a single gunshot rang out and echoed throughout the nearby gorge, bouncing from canyon to canyon. Olivia was on her feet in an instant, running back through the dark forest.

  Patrick jumped up and grabbed his clothes as well. He set off through the woods, struggling to put back on his trousers and pull his shirt over his head at the same time. “Olivia!” he called in a hoarse whisper. “Slow down!”

  He chased through the trees until he caught up to her. He wrapped his arms around her and forced her to her knees. Putting his hand over her mouth, he whispered, “Please, Olivia. We have to remain calm.”

  Her chest heaved, and she tried to sp
eak, but Patrick would not remove his hand.

  “Y’all wanna die, too?” a gruff voice with a thick western accent demanded in the distance.

  “Where the others?” another voice asked.

  Olivia’s breath stopped, and her body shook once. It was her father.

  “You gon’ get worse ’n death, you don’t tell us where they are,” Resin growled.

  A brief silence ensued, followed by a hushed scuffle that was likely Resin’s retribution for Patrick’s earlier assault.

  “Get ’em on,” someone else said.

  Patrick leaned around a nearby tree and could make out at least six men standing around the campfire. “There’s nothing we can do,” he whispered, a sick stone settling into his gut. “There’s too many of them.”

  Olivia struggled in his grasp, but soon collapsed onto her hands. Patrick felt a steady stream of tears flowing over his hand that covered her mouth. He buried his face in her hair and held back his own weeping.

  Two boys stood up and were shackled and escorted back toward Mitten.

  “Deal was eighty for the four of ’em,” one of the men said, hanging back with Resin, “but yer gettin’ fifty fer wastin’ my time. Ain’t yer fault my boy shot that ’n’, so I’m meetin’ ya in the middle here.”

  Resin accepted the bag of metal coin with what was undoubtedly a reptilian sneer.

  “Hope ya find yer daughter,” the man said. “Come back wit’ us, ’r go yer own way.” With that, the man tipped his head and turned to follow his crew.

  Resin glanced around the dark clearing and seemed to scan the tree line separating him from the mountains. He grumbled something to himself before setting off behind the others.

  14

  Patrick allowed Olivia to cry herself to sleep, and when her wails faded to whimpers, he withdrew his hand from the front of her mouth. He sat awake watching the campsite fire dwindle to embers and watching for any of the marauders to return. Neither of them had taken a weapon on their unfortunate tryst, and he could be sure that there would be none left behind by the assailing men. They had no way to defend themselves.