“No, no, no, let me guess. Too much partying? No, that’s lame. Everyone parties. Oh, you accidentally killed a rival team’s mascot? No, that’s not it. I got it. You knocked up a faculty member. That’s it, stud. Tell me I’m wrong.” Rachel stood up and pointed at him.
“I broke my ankle on a sprinkler head,” Ryan admitted.
The campfire went silent for a moment until in unison everyone burst into laughter.
“Don’t make me laugh like that, you guys. I’m still in a lot of pain over here.” Casandra rubbed her shoulder, trying to hold back snorts of laughter. The sounds only made her laugh harder.
“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t see that one coming at all,” Elliot said trying in vain to cover his mouth.
“No need to apologize, bro,” Ryan replied. “Oh, it’s hilarious alright.”
“Sprinkler, huh? Wow, I got nothing.” Rachel sat down beside him, just a tad closer this time.
Nisha was smiling and laughing with the rest of them, though the here and now was never far from her mind. “There has to be more survivors out there,” she said confidently, though the statement was more of a question she desperately needed someone to answer.
“Yeah, we saw them last week, and they killed one of us,” Damon answered.
“Asshole,” Marisol replied. “There’s plenty of people out there and they’re not all bad.”
“You really believe that?” Radzinski asked, almost compassionately.
“Of course. How could I not?”
“The kid’s got a point,” said Sam. “Although I’m a little more optimistic than that. Given enough time, I’m hopeful we’ll run into another group similar to our own.”
“Yeah, strength in numbers. Then nobody can fuck with us.” Damon punched his open palm.
“I think Sam was referring to security,” Isaac commented. “But you are right. If we had larger numbers, that gang might have thought twice before confronting us.” Isaac poked the fire with a stick. Small embers danced around in the smoke until disappearing into the sky.
“Do you think the government is still out there? I mean, trying to figure out how to fix this?” Marisol asked no one in particular.
“Who knows? At this point, who cares?” Radzinski answered. “We’re on our own. Hell, for all we know, those assholes caused this shit in the first place.” He picked himself up, sealed his bottle of whiskey, and disappeared down toward the water.
Off to the side, away from the smoke but within earshot of the group, Markus worked to ease Samantha’s frayed nerves.
“Can’t you hear that? Those things are still out there, aren’t they? Everyone said this island was deserted.” Samantha began to panic again, jumping at shadows and any stray noise the island offered out in the darkness and away from the fire. The neighing of distant horses particularly unnerved her. “We should head back to the boat, Markus.”
“Trust me, this island is as deserted as it gets. There’s nothing here but us and those horses. Otherwise, we are completely alone. Those things aren’t out there. Believe me. At least not here on the island, anyway. Besides, sound carries on the water. I bet those bastards are miles away,” said Markus, though his attempt at consolation wasn’t going over well.
Jeremiah and Aiko sat alone in the darkness, away from the others. It wasn’t that they were antisocial, far from it. They required a certain amount of time to themselves, especially Jeremiah. His brain basically needed time to recharge after being around a large group of people for an extended amount of time. He was an introvert, to be sure. The condition was usually manageable, but the past weeks pushed his senses beyond his limit, though he’d never let it show. In times like those, he would develop tunnel vision and dive headfirst into a task, only to come up for air when said task was complete. That was what he’d been doing for weeks now. It was finally time to decompress, alone on a beach with Aiko by his side, just far enough away from everyone else to relax.
“See that light in the distance? It’s fire, a small city burning,” Jeremiah pointed out.
“How can you tell?” Aiko said while adjusting herself to lie in his lap.
“It’s unmistakable, the sight of a city on fire in complete darkness. Peaceful yet terrifying in its brilliance.”
“Is that what it was like in Afghanistan?”
“Sometimes. Most nights were uneventful, though. Dark and quiet times, those were the worst, always. The anticipation was agonizing.”
“I can imagine, but we’re together now. That’s what’s important.”
“You don’t want to hear about fires or what I thought of the sandbox, Aiko. You never have. Be honest with me. There’s something else on your mind, isn’t there?”
“No fooling you, huh? Yes, there is something I want to tell you, but right now is not the time, Jeremiah. I really just want to enjoy this time alone together, where we can slow down and breathe.”
“Given our current situation, we may not find a better time to speak with one another privately again.”
“I know. I just need to do this on my own terms, okay?” Aiko insisted.
“If you feel it best,” Jeremiah conceded.
“Thanks, but has anyone ever told you you’re a fucking robot?” Aiko asked playfully.
“I may have heard it once or twice.” Jeremiah managed a smile as he turned his focus back to the flaming town in the distance.
His smile, though fleeting, was what attracted her to him near two years prior. To see him content like this, at peace, made her heart swell. “Hey there,” Aiko whispered. She took his hand in hers. “You’re going to be a father, Jeremiah.”
Eyes like saucers, he rose to his knees and reached for her belly. It was truly there, the smallest of baby bumps, but it was there. His child was growing inside of her. He had been so consumed these past weeks that he didn’t notice. He leaned forward and held her tight, kissing her belly repeatedly. The typically stoic Jeremiah wept. “Thank you, thank you. I’m so sorry. Thank you, Lord. Thank you.” He cried as Aiko looked on lovingly, caressing his head, tears of her own streaming. Even in a world gone to hell, the love they shared bore fruit. On an island he’d never heard of, under the stars with his young family, Jeremiah’s faith was restored.
Miller and Soraya sat together, a little farther down the beach, away from the fire and the majority of the group. A bright full moon illuminated their spot just beyond the reach of the waves. When the wind blew a certain way, they could just barely make out the sounds from camp. Otherwise, it was peaceful. Twenty-four hours before he touched down in Philadelphia, Miller was at a local watering hole, relieving some civilians from the burden of heavy wallets over a few games of pool. He had been on the move ever since, nearly six weeks from the last time he was able to take a breath.
“I am glad you decided to stay, Miller. We needed this.”
“Agreed. I’d been tossing it around in my head for a few days, weighing the pros and cons. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what we should do.”
“What made up your mind?”
“Sam did. When I overheard him and Lillian trying to convince Vanessa that it was a good idea to stay, that sealed it. They were right. We needed to be able to slow down, catch our breath, and find our bearings. I don’t think anyone thinks we can stay here forever, though. Sooner or later, we will have to get back on the road.”
“Enough of this road talk. Let’s speak of something else. Tell me about your family.”
“What’s to tell? We’re just your average suburban family: two brothers, two sisters, Mom, and Dad.”
“There is always something to tell,” she prodded.
The sound of the waves crashing and Soraya’s voice brought him peace as he gazed up at the night sky. Tranquility allowed his mind to wander back to better times with his family, before his whole world went to shit. “I try not to imagine what they’re going through with all of this. I mean, I have so many regrets, and it just kills me to think that they’re out there, running for their lives right now, terrifie
d, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.” Miller held his eyes shut for a moment. “I used to get so mad at them and for stupid shit, and all they ever wanted to do was spend time with me. I’d get an attitude if they asked me to do something. Being a stupid kid, I didn’t realize they just wanted to spend time with their son. I miss them so much, Soraya. I would give anything to be back home right now, cooking on the grill with the old man and throwing back some cold ones.”
“They know how you feel. You are a good man, Miller,” Soraya said. “Do you know if they made it to safety?”
“God, I have no idea. I’d like to think they made it someplace safe, though. I have to, you know, think that way. It keeps me from losing my mind.”
Soraya took his hand in hers. She wrapped his arm around her and held his hand in her stomach. “Someday, I will help you find them. I promise,” she said while nestling in beside Miller for a long-deserved night’s sleep.
Lancaster rummaged around inside the shipwreck of the Emerald Star, throwing seat cushions and life jackets about the wheelhouse as he searched. “I know you are in here somewhere, dammit,” Lancaster said as he opened a compartment near the captain’s chair. “There you are, my sweet. You are all the companionship I’ll ever need, my dear, dear Brandy. To hell with that self-righteous garbage, the lot of them.” Lancaster uncorked a liter of top-shelf Brandy, took a big swig, and sat back in the captain’s chair, momentarily content.
Even farther still down the beach, within sight of the shipwreck, Vanessa and Lillian were enjoying some much-desired privacy.
“Do you still miss your husband?” Lillian asked.
“There will always be a place in my heart for Clint, but no, I don’t miss him anymore. He wouldn’t want me to,” Vanessa replied. “It was hard at first, but he made me promise to let him go. I was angry with him for a long time for leaving me. Now when I think of him, I smile. I’ve learned to focus on the positive, so the negative usually bounces right off. Most times.”
“If I think hard enough, will all of this go away?”
“Oh, Lily, I didn’t mean to imply…” Vanessa sat up.
“I know. I’m kidding, mostly. Besides, I’ve seen so much crazy shit in the past few weeks I honestly think I’m becoming numb to it all.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking right now. The first thing that pops into your head,” said Vanessa, quick to head off impending gloom.
“You know, and I feel awful saying it considering all we’ve been through, but I feel bad killing these horses like this. Look at them. They’re beautiful. We’ve killed two so far, and the others still hang around like everything is okay.” Lillian strained her neck to turn and watch part of a herd grazing beyond a nearby dune.
Radzinski interrupted, not content with merely eavesdropping. “If it makes you feel better, that little horsey is going to keep you and your girlfriend alive.”
“Leave her alone. She doesn’t have to like it,” Vanessa snapped without hesitation.
“I’m just saying, some of you people complain an awful lot. I don’t think you realize how good you have it here.”
“No one’s complaining. She simply said she feels bad about killing horses. Not a big deal, so why don’t you move on?”
“Hey, don’t listen to me. See for yourselves when we leave here, and believe me, we will leave here. When we’re back in the shit with those things chasing us down again, you’ll wish we were back on this island, killing your precious horses.” Satisfied, Radzinski continued his trek down the beach.
“Thanks for that, but you don’t have to stick up for me all the time. I’m a big girl, you know.” Lillian was pushing and pulling on the blanket, trying to reset the divot they had made in the sand.
“Sorry, I just don’t like people like that. The guy’s a jerk. Here, let me help you with that.” Vanessa took over straightening the blanket.
“I don’t need your help to fix the fucking blanket!” Lillian yanked it back.
“Okay, sorry. Have at it.” Vanessa backed away slightly, leaving Lillian to adjust the sheet.
“No, I’m sorry. It’s just that you don’t talk to me the same way you did back home. Then it was like we were on the same level playing field, like we were sisters or something else. Ever since we left Pepperbush behind, you’ve changed. It’s like you think you’re my mother now or something. I don’t like it, and it’s not fair.” Lillian grabbed Vanessa’s hand with purpose. “There was always something more back at Mother Leeds, just beneath the surface. I saw it, and most of our regulars knew it, too. I don’t need a second mother, Vanessa. I need you.”
“I wasn’t trying to act like your mom. I didn’t realize I—” Vanessa began.
Lillian leaned in. Without giving Vanessa a chance to respond, she was on top of her former employer, gently kissing her lips while running fingers through her hair. They had kissed before, but it was always more of a playful thing, mainly for the benefit of their customers. This was different.
Vanessa reciprocated, slowly at first, but she was quick to catch up. A part of her couldn’t believe this was really happening. She had only discovered her own feelings for Lillian days prior. There hadn’t been ample time to process them before they were stranded on this island, and here was this girl, putting any doubt Vanessa might have harbored to bed.
Vanessa let Lillian pull away first. Truth be told, she didn’t want the moment to end. “That was nice.”
“It was.”
“You want to just lie here for a bit before we head back?”
“Why? You holding out for someone else, Mom?” Lillian teased.
Vanessa threw the blanket over Lillian’s head and laughed. “Shut up.”
In the distance, the campfire seemed no more than a speck of orange against a sea of black. The light came into view and left again just as quickly while Isabelle bobbed up and down in the ocean. Easily thirty yards from shore, she gently swam in place, only moving enough to keep her nose above water. It had been at least an hour since she last felt sand beneath her toes. She floated, watching tiny shadows in the distance dance beneath the stars. Over time, the current would drag her away until the orange disappeared completely behind a dune. Eventually she would swim back to where she started and observe all over again.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Castaways
“I was wondering where you’d gotten off to.” Miller stood watch halfway between the shipwreck of the Emerald Star and the inlet that separated their humble island from the mainland. He had shed most of his gear in the days prior. By day five on the island, boots, fatigues, and a simple white T-shirt were all that he bothered with. His rifle had gotten heavy. He kept armed, though: a combat knife and a sidearm. The rest of his unit had also adopted a more casual loadout in light of island living. Tank tops and T-shirts all around.
Rachel approached from atop a nearby dune, gliding over the sand barefoot. Her boots were tied together and draped over a shoulder, her rifle slung over the other. “Hiking. This island goes on for a few miles in both directions.”
“Just us and the horses still, I hope?” Miller was more concerned about other potential inhabitants than he let on. The size of the island gave him pause. It was possible they missed something vital during their initial reconnaissance, like a land bridge, shattering the illusion of serenity that maybe this wasn’t even an island at all.
“It’s still just us. Over the past two days, I’ve hiked from one end of this bastard to the other. As far as I can tell, this whole island is one big campsite.”
“You’re serious?” he asked with a quick glance through his binoculars.
“Oh yeah. I found two more sets of tents out there, and there’s probably more. Here’s the kicker: I lost track of how many pick up your trash or leave the horses alone signs I came across. I’m fairly confident that this place is a national park.”
“That would explain a few things.”
“Yeah, really. Now, why don’t you take a whiff of th
is?” Rachel leaned in, putting her hair up to Miller’s nose.
He backed off for a second, unsure, but slowly inched forward for a smell. His brow furrowed and his neck tilted. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Two miles east is a fucking bathhouse with a working toilet and two honest-to-God hot and cold running showers. There’s even a supply closet with travel-sized bars of soap and shampoo. Best I’ve felt in I don’t even remember.” Rachel pulled her short hair as close to her own nose as she could and breathed in deep. She held her eyes shut for a moment and smiled. “For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how the hell I wasn’t running out of hot water or any water for that matter. I was about to start filling up all the trashcans I could find when it dawned on me: solar power. The well pump and the hot water heater are working off solar power; the roof of the place is covered with panels. Genius. No outlets or lighting fixtures, but big deal, right? I guess they were going for that au naturel roughing-it vibe.”
“Well, this changes everything.”
“Tell me about it. I let Casandra know already. The poor girl’s got it worse than any of us. She and Bernie are over there now. They know to keep quiet and only tell a couple people at a time. No need to start a riot when everyone shows up at the shower at once.”
“Good call. This’ll be great for morale, pick these people’s spirits up a little more. This place really is turning out to be paradise.” Miller looked over to Rachel’s bare feet, then down to his own boots. “I may never want to leave.”
Steam poured out from the small stucco covered bathhouse; its only real ventilation was the crack beneath a thick wooden door. Inside, filthy clothes were strewn about the ceramic tile floor. No curtains adorned the shower stalls, and the facility’s lone toilet sat adjacent the shower booths with only a waist-high cinder block wall affording minimal privacy. Bernie and Casandra didn’t think twice about such inconsequential things as modesty. Both dove headfirst into the showers, barely ripping off their clothes before the first drops of water hit them. After weeks of travel, their attire was just as foul as their bodies, maybe even a little worse, though laundry could come later.
The Roaming (Book 2): The Toll Page 21
