“Pretty much healed at this point. Tank took good care of me. I got lucky. Now we need to get lucky today.”
“I’m worried about Cutter.”
“So am I. He doesn’t look well. His fever is getting worse—despite the Tylenol and the shots of penicillin Tank gave him before we went to bed last night and again this morning. If the infection has spread into his blood, I’m not sure what we can do for him. There’s a time limit on these sorts of things.”
“I don’t even want to think about it.”
“I hear you. But we can’t lose hope—for all sorts of reasons.”
“You mean our child?”
“I do.”
I leaned back against him and shut my eyes. He moved his arms low against my belly, and then he held me closer to him. For a long moment, we just sat like that on the forest floor, neither of us saying a word, but a cloud of despair hung over us that was so palpable, I could feel it in my soul.
“Whatever happens,” I said. “However this goes—”
“It’s going to be fine.”
“We don’t know if it is. But I do know this—whatever happens, I don’t want to wait to have a child. If we have lost our baby, I want to try for another one as soon as the doctors tells us that it’s safe to do so. I want to have your son—or your daughter. Waiting two years is no longer an option for me.”
“Nor is it for me. I feel the same way.”
“I love you so much, Alex. I feel as if I’ve let you down.”
“You need to stop feeling that way,” he said firmly.
“Easier said than done.”
“I’ll never know the extent of what you’re going through, but it must come close to how I feel because I’m equally as invested in this pregnancy—I want this child more than anything, Jennifer. I’m praying that it’s safe, thriving, and well. But if we did lose it, then we’ll mourn its loss—and we’ll try for another. It will be cared for, it will be loved, and it will have everything that we can provide for it. But we can’t give up hope now. Our child might still be alive. Whatever happens, I do know this—our love for each other will see us through all of it.”
“What if there’s no getting out of this situation?”
“We will get out of this,” he said. And then he paused, as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Even if I have to bribe the men on this island with several million dollars to make the call that will get us the hell out.”
* * *
When he said that, all I could do was turn to him in shock.
“Why the hell didn’t I think of that sooner?” he asked.
“Because, at first, we thought we were dealing with an indigenous tribe, not people who had fled their country to come and live here. We only met them yesterday—and look how yesterday went. You didn’t have time to think. You and Tank just flew into action.”
“Bullshit. I should have seen this. It was right in front of me.”
“I disagree. You also were dealing with the shock of seeing Cutter alive. What matters is that you did think of it. I sure as hell didn’t. Neither did Tank or Blackwell. None of us thought of it until you just brought it up. And thank God that you did—it might be the answer.”
“These people are actively going to a nearby island for supplies,” he said. “How are they paying for that?”
“Exactly.”
“Does someone here have a trust fund? Did a few of them come into a considerable inheritance before they came here that helped to fund their move? Even if they did, the men who brought Cutter back to us said that they’ve been here for decades. That money must be drying up at this point, unless someone here is seriously rich, which could be the case. But even if it isn’t, money talks—even on this island.”
“We came here this morning with one option,” I said. “Now we have two. Which do we use?”
“I think you and I both know which one carries more weight, and the least risk.”
“They’ll want cash. These people want to be left alone. They want to remain anonymous, and cash is about as anonymous as it gets. Cash, we can give them in spades.”
But even as I said that, Alex’s face darkened. “But only if they believe us,” he said. “We’re in a desperate situation. What if they thought we were lying to them? Who would take an offer of millions of dollars seriously? Would any of them believe it?”
“We came here on a private plane,” I said. “Scrawled on the side of that plane is the Wenn logo. Show them your license. Prove to them that you are the Wenn behind Wenn. That alone should be enough to convince them.”
“We should go to Tank with this,” he said. “We need to act on this now.”
But when he spoke, there was a rustling in the jungle behind us. At first, it sounded far off, but then it quickly became clear that it was coming toward us. I lifted my spear and moved closer to Alex, who moved in front of me in an effort to protect me. Together, we each held our breath and listened to the bending of branches, the snapping of twigs—and to the sudden change in the air.
When we heard the first snort, we knew what was upon us—wild boar. Again. To make matters worse, when Alex and I stood and poised our spears in their direction, there was a sudden rushing sound followed by two gunshots—which caused me to shriek out in surprise and fear. I reared back and nearly fell over, but Alex caught me and pulled me into his arms.
And then came a voice from the brush.
“Put down your spears.”
It was a woman’s voice. Not young. Middle-aged.
“Put them down now, or I’ll shoot you.”
We tossed our spears onto the ground and took a step back toward the grove, our hands lifted high above our heads in hopes that Tank and Blackwell would see us. At the very least, I knew that they’d heard those gunshots—and that Tank likely was trying to find a way to get to us now.
“Why are you here?” the woman asked.
Through the thick green foliage that cloaked the jungle and held tight to its secrets, I looked everywhere for her, but with the overgrown denseness of the leaves and vines, I couldn’t see her at all. But I could feel her presence. I knew from the sound of her voice alone that she was no more than fifteen feet away from us.
“We came to seek help,” Alex said.
“And you expect that from us?” the woman asked. “We’ve already given you help.”
“My wife is pregnant.”
“She certainly doesn’t look pregnant.”
“I’m only about six weeks into my pregnancy,” I said.
“Is that so…?”
“Our fear is that she might have lost the baby in the crash. We don’t know whether she did, but each day that we stay here, we’re losing time to potentially save our child. We need to get off this island now, and get to a doctor before it’s too late.”
“What if it’s already too late?”
“We’re praying that it isn’t.”
“Prayer,” she said with sarcasm. “Where has that gotten you at this point?”
“Perhaps to you.”
“Really? To me? You think I’m the answer to your prayers?” She laughed at that. It was a hollow laugh. A dead laugh. “You might want to think twice about that. So, tell me. Why did you come to this section of the island, of all places?”
“Because the fruit is in season,” Alex said. “We thought there was a chance that the women would be harvesting it.”
“The women?” she said. “So, you’re a sexist?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I think that it is.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Your mere presence on this island offends me. But I have to ask—why didn’t you just go to our camp? After all, you and your beast of a friend were there yesterday. All of us know it because some of us saw you. Others saw you looking up at the antenna, and we can only imagine what you thought about that. And then there’s our boat, which you also saw. So, tell me the truth. What were you expecting to find
here?”
“Women,” Alex said. “Mothers.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Cutter told us that it was the women on this island who demanded that the men help him,” he said.
“Cutter is correct. And when we were finished setting his arm, treating his wound, and feeding him, we returned him to you.”
“He’s dying,” I said. “We’re afraid that the infection might now be in his blood. In order to save his life, he needs help. We can’t lose him. He saved us when we slammed onto this island. He’s a good man. The women here had the compassion to help him. We’re hoping that you’ll extend that compassion to save us.”
“You don’t need us to save you. Yesterday, planes were near this island. They’re obviously searching for you now. It won’t be long.”
“They were searching the ocean,” Alex said. “Not the island. When we were losing altitude, our plane’s cockpit struck something hard, and it broke away over those waters, taking five lives with it. In the cockpit is one of the black boxes, and given the ocean currents, it might be sending out a signal miles away from us at this point.”
“Or miles closer to you.”
“My point is that they might think the entire plane landed in the ocean, not just the cockpit. Yesterday, we were hoping that they’d fly over the island and see us, but they didn’t. I think they think that all of us are dead.”
She sounded exasperated when she said, “Why don’t you just tell me what you want?”
“We need your help. For our child’s sake. For Cutter’s sake.”
“And not for your own sake?”
“Yes, for all of our sakes, but mostly for theirs. Are you a mother?” he asked. “If you are, you’d understand what we’re going through.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“We want this child. We need to get to a doctor. So does Cutter. If you are a mother—or if you’ve known anyone on this island who has lost a child—we’re appealing to you to help us.”
“I can’t help you.”
“Then maybe I could help you.”
That caused her to pause.
“I doubt that,” she said after missing a beat.
“You’ve seen our plane. It’s a private plane. It has the Wenn logo written on the side of it. My name is Alexander Wenn. I can prove who I am with my license. I own a large conglomerate back in the States. It’s called Wenn Enterprises. So, I have to ask. Could five million dollars help you? In cash? No questions asked? In return, all we’d want is a call alerting people to where we are so we can get out of here.”
“We don’t need your money.”
“Then how about ten million?”
“You’re so predictable…”
“Just name your price.”
“That’s not for me to decide.”
“Would you at least take the offer into consideration?”
“Maybe,” the woman said.
“We would do anything if you would.”
“I’ll bet you would. Now leave before I shoot.”
“We’re not alone.”
“Of course you’re not. Where are the others?”
“Just over there,” Alex said, pointing to the other side of the grove.
“Then motion to them that it’s time to go. Soon, the others will come, and it won’t just be women. We are a team on this island. Men, women, and the older children do the majority of the work, including harvesting the fruit. Those two boars I killed back there? I was in the process of hunting them when your wife screamed and alerted me to you. But you probably think that killing boars is a man’s job, which I find insulting. I don’t think you see men and women as equals, which we are. Because of that, I don’t know if I’ll help you. I might keep our little chance meeting a secret. Maybe in four days, on your last day on this island, if you’re still not out of here, I’ll be one of the people chosen to hunt you down. I’m one of the best marksmen on this island. Everyone here knows that. And I’m tired of you poisoning our island. If I have a change of heart and choose to consider your offer, you’ll hear from us. Now, with that said, get your friends’ attention and get the hell out of here before I decide to finish all of you off.”
“One thing,” I said.
“Don’t try my patience, girl.”
“Is there anything else we can do to save Cutter?”
She chuckled at that. “Don’t you see?” she said. “There’s no helping him now. We knew that the day we returned him to you, which is why you got him back. We certainly didn’t want him any longer because we knew that he was dying. And you’re correct—his blood is infected. While some of us tried to prevent that with modern-day medicine, we got overruled because we have to keep watch over our supply.”
“You just said ‘we.’ Were you among them?”
There was the distinct click of a shotgun being loaded. “That’s it. Get out of here now before the others arrive. If you don’t, I’ll shoot.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
On the way back to camp, all of us were on edge.
Tank held Blackwell’s arm so she wouldn’t trip along the forest floor, and Alex held my hand tightly in his own as we swept our way through heavy vines and hanging moss, and moved past the thick trunks of trees in an effort to get to our hut as quickly as possible.
There was much to discuss, but no time to discuss it now—we were told to get out of the grove immediately. In an effort to get back home fast, we’d only told Tank and Blackwell a trace of what had happened between the woman and us.
We were nearly upon the clearing that opened to our hut when Tank suddenly stopped, turned to us, and put his finger to his lips. “Listen,” he said.
We listened—and all of us heard it. The plane again, far off behind us. But this time the sound was different. This time there were two distinct sounds—a plane and the chopping beats of a helicopter.
“It’s a helicopter,” I said. “It could be a rescue helicopter.”
“Let’s move,” Tank said. “We’re almost there. We need to get on the beach and out into the open.”
When we burst out of the jungle, Lisa, Daniella, and Alexa already were on the beach, their heads lifted high toward the bright blue sky.
“You’re back,” Lisa said in surprise when she saw us. “I thought you’d be gone for most of the day, but it’s only been a little more than two hours.”
“Shit happened,” Tank said. “We’ll debrief later. Right now, I need all of you to spread out over the beach, and wave like hell if you see anything.”
But we saw nothing. As minutes turned into hours, we heard the plane and the helicopter press in and press out. Sometimes it sounded as if they were only a few miles away from us, but as the day passed and the sun started to rest against the horizon, it became clear that neither was going to sweep over the island itself.
At that point, although none of us voiced it, we all knew that the black box on our plane had been destroyed in the crash. If it were still working, whoever was searching for us would have been drawn to us by then. With a sense of dread and defeat, we gave up hope and went back to our hut, where Alexa started to build a fire that we could gather around.
“Tank, you need to tend to Cutter,” she said. “He’s gotten worse. He’s starting to shake and sweat profusely. I also think he’s beginning to hallucinate because when I try to talk with him, he makes no sense.”
When I heard that, all I could do is think about what that woman had said to us earlier. “Don’t you see? There’s no helping him now. We knew that the day we returned him to you, which is why you got him back. We certainly didn’t want him any longer because we knew that he was dying.”
I blinked away tears and felt a hot current of anger thread through me. We couldn’t lose him now. There were ways to protect him on this island, but the people who thought they owned this piece of land were preventing us from saving his life. Why? What was the point? Rationing their medical supplies? Maybe. But we’d just
offered one of them millions of dollars to get us off this island. Certainly that money could sustain them for years to come. But would that woman reveal our offer to the people who mattered on this island—specifically, the older man with the white beard who had brought Cutter back to us? To me, he was the one who appeared to be in a leadership position given the way he had spoken to us.
“Jennifer? Alex? Would you mind joining me? I might need your help,” Tank said.
“Of course.”
When we went into the hut, we saw at once that Alexa wasn’t exaggerating. Cutter was in dire shape. He was lying on his bed of palm leaves. He had a blanket over him, yet he looked somehow smaller to me than he had when we left him only this morning. Worse, he was sweating profusely. Here was a man who, like Tank, I’d never seen as anything but strong and vital. But seeing him like this? Seeing him like this was as awful and as terrifying as it was humbling. I knelt beside him and took his hand in my own while Tank inspected his leg.
“Cutter?” I said to him. “Can you hear me? It’s Jennifer. Alex also is here. So is Tank. He’s inspecting your leg.”
He was shivering so bad that when he spoke, it was with difficulty. “You mean the murderer?”
“I’m sorry?”
“The murderer. My leg. The thing that’s going to kill me.”
“You are not going to die. We are working to get off this island. We need you to hold on.”
“Too late for that,” he said. “I know what I’m feeling. I know what this means. I’m sorry this happened. Please tell my parents and my brother that I love them.”
I wasn’t at all prepared for this, and my heart swelled in my throat from what I was seeing and hearing. He was giving up. He was letting go. This man wasn’t even thirty yet—he hadn’t had the chance to live out his damned life, for God’s sake—and here he was, preparing himself for death.
His eyes locked onto mine when he said, “I’m not scared. Don’t look so sad, OK? Because it is OK. God came to visit me earlier. We talked for a while. He sat right where you are now. He said that He’d take care of me. He said that everything would be OK. And I know it will be. I felt peaceful when He was here with me. He said that the pain would only be temporary—that it would be worth it—because then I’d come to live with Him. With no pain. And no worries.”
Annihilate Me 2: Omnibus (Complete Vols. 1-3, Annihilate Me 2) Page 32
