The Castaways

by Jessika Fleck

  Bug is in front of me and leans back, alerting me she may not share in my assessment of Duke. The guy still has a menacing way about him that I’m not sure ever goes away. Bug’s hair tickles my neck, and I wrap my arms around her shoulders.

  I glance over at Will. He smiles at us, but there’s sadness in his eyes.

  Shiloh stands, stepping forward.

  I give Bug a squeeze and follow suit, meeting Shiloh’s dark gaze across the fire.

  “So?” I ask. “How’d it go?”

  “Tommy’s window is open. That’s it. No others, but we weren’t surprised based on the equation we worked out for him. It’s probably been open a couple of days. Since the bomb at the cave.” My eyes flash to Tommy. He holds my stare for a minute then looks away. I’m dying to know the details of his equation but don’t dare pry.

  “That’s great news,” I say.

  Shiloh gives as close to a smile as I’ve seen from her. “He’ll leave tonight.”

  I nod, glancing around at all the faces surrounding me, and I can’t help feel it’s like they’re waiting for me to say something, watching me.

  “Should we talk about ‘what-ifs’?” I ask the group.

  “What-ifs?” Shiloh questions me.

  “Yeah, you know, explore our options…the possibilities if we’re successful or if we fail.”

  She nods, her eyes glazed over like she’s got too many to sort through.

  I scan the group. “Does anyone have any doubts? Concerns? Questions? I don’t have the answers any more than you do, but if we talk about things, put everything out there, maybe it’ll help.” I shrug. “Whatever the outcome, I know we need to figure this out together.” Duke nods like he agrees with me, and I feel small, still timid in his presence.

  Henry clears his throat. “So, if we do what we need to do and mine and Noah’s window shows up, do you think we’ll go back to the same time like things have been frozen for us all these years?”

  “Shit,” Noah butts in. “No! We’ll be running for our lives!”

  “All of us were in bad situations, which is why we ended up here…I think.” I look to Lewis, then Shiloh, but they don’t give me any further guidance. Then I remember, “Oh. I could smell the carnival food. Hear the sounds. If time hadn’t stood still, it would be long gone.”

  Shiloh sits up. “Yes, but that was your window. We don’t know they’ll all react the same way. We could go back to whatever the present time is and rapidly age. It might be we end up in the exact same place and time like nothing’s changed. Or, we could die because maybe we aren’t meant to go back at all. Maybe it’s unnatural to go back and forth.”

  “Olive?” Charlie whines in panic.

  Bug tucks into a ball like a baby hedgehog.

  Will cringes.

  Shiloh sure can drop a black cloud over a Kumbaya moment.

  “Now wait,” I say, shooting Shiloh a shut it look, motioning at the young ones. “True, we don’t know exactly what’s going to happen, but we got here in one piece. There’s no reason to think it’ll be any different going back. And, besides, we can’t run forever, right?”

  Shiloh steps farther into the circle. “Well, what do you know, we finally agree on something.” I raise my eyebrows and Shiloh laughs. It’s a pretty sound, like a tinkly wind-chime. “So,” she continues, “what’s our plan?”

  “Well, it seems there are still a lot of unknowns. Whether this theory is correct or the fact mine and Tommy’s windows opened is a total fluke is yet to be seen. All we can do is work toward facing our demons and hope for the best.” It sounds like too little, too late, but I keep that part to myself. This has to work. “We keep trying, keep working together, and keep checking to see if new windows open up.” I punctuate it with a long sigh because that’s all I’ve got.

  “And what if no new windows open?” Yeah, that.

  “Then, at least, we tried. And we can live here in peace instead of war.”

  “We? You mean, some of us. Whoever’s left.” Shiloh glances left and right, avoiding my eyes because I’ve got a one-way ticket home.

  “If no new doors open, I’m not going anywhere.” The words leave my mouth before they register in my mind. My heart controlled that sentence.

  Will stands. “No. I won’t allow it, Olive. You can’t waste this chance.”

  Won’t allow it?

  “I agree.” Lewis stands, too.

  The rest follow, leaving Shiloh and Duke sitting and staring at me. All of a sudden, I respect those two more than ever. This is my call, not a group decision.

  “Look, I appreciate it.” I stare at Will. “Truly, I do, but this is my choice. And, who knows? Hopefully, it won’t be an issue. But I refuse to leave you all here.” My voice hitches with emotion, but I hold firm, not taking my gaze from Will.

  He breathes a deep sigh, nods, and sits.

  Lewis glares at Will like he’s an idiot to give in so easily.

  “Me, too,” Tommy speaks up, taking a step into the circle. “Either we all go, or no one goes.” He nods at me like we just made a pact. Maybe we did because I nod back.

  “I’m on board with that,” Duke speaks up for the first time since the bomb. Everyone’s eyes flick toward him but quickly resume their previously scheduled programming as to not gawk.

  “Me, too,” Shiloh adds.

  “All or nothing?” Will asks.

  I nod.

  “Does everyone agree with that?”

  “All or nothing,” Jude calls out, his hand over his heart.

  In response, there’s a collective nod and a scattering of “yes’s” and “uh-huh’s.”

  It’s a beautiful moment.

  All or nothing.

  A breeze blows off the water, showering us with sea spray and salt, pulling my eyes down the beach to a cluster of rocks where the waves whip up and splash.

  I gasp and point. It’s dark, but between the fire, the glow of the full moon, and the bazillion stars, I spot a pane of shimmering waves like a large group of dim fireflies. A few yards from the rocks and just before the beach turns to forest, is a window.

  Jude follows my eyes and stands. Because it’s his.

  “Holy shit,” he whispers.

  Jude pulls his face out away from the heat waves. “Dry, thin air and pine. Definitely Colorado.” He sticks his head back in, then out again, his eyes wide. “This is insane.”

  While the others keep Jude busy with questions, I notice Duke’s sitting alone back at the fire.

  I approach him with caution.

  As I grow closer, he glances up at me, acknowledging my presence with something between a smile and a grimace. I sit on a rock a few feet away.

  “How are you feeling?” I break the awkward silence by speaking my first post-war words to Duke.

  “Better,” he answers not so much as glancing my way. Eyes glazed over, he stares into the fire.

  “That’s good.” This might be the extent of our conversation because I’m at a total loss for words. I toss a couple of sticks into the flames and dig my toes into the sand, then glance over my shoulder at the rest of our group who are studying the window. Just as I stand and join them, Duke turns his head toward me.

  “Why didn’t you leave?”

  “What’s that?” I hear him, but his question catches me off guard. I reclaim my seat.

  “When you found the window, why didn’t you go back home? You have no idea how long you’ll have the chance. Risky move.” He shakes his head like he’s disappointed in my choice.

  “Well, I guess the benefits of staying outweighed the risk of not getting to go home. I couldn’t leave without knowing everyone else has the same chance.”

  “Huh.” He shrugs like he’s not sure what to think of that.

  “Plus, it’s easier here, in a way. Sounds weird, but I don’t have to work as hard to keep afloat.” I gaze toward the ocean. “I can just be,” I whisper to the dark waves.

  Duke nods, breathing in through his nose. “I ge
t that.” I suppose he would. “But… I’ve found sometimes it’s best to embrace your demons instead of battling them.”

  I give him a look of confusion.

  “This scar on my chest? The P…” He points to the raised, discolored skin. I cringe. “This damn letter tortured me for the better part of my life. At some point after arriving here, I took charge. I used to be ashamed of this scar, but now I’m p-p…proud of it.” He stammers but catches himself, taking little effort to lure it back. “I own it.” He breathes in, raising his eyebrows and glancing back toward the fire. “When you accept what frightens you most, more times than not, you’ll discover it was nothing but inventions of your own making, anyway. Silly doubts blown out of…proportion. And no one controls that but you. We’re our own worst demons, Olive.”

  It sounds a lot like a riddle with strands of golden truth woven in.

  “I’m sorry about your friend,” he whispers, his voice raspy with emotion. “I never meant to—”

  “I know.” Despite the knot in my throat for Tilly, I do know. Because I’m plucking the golden threads from Duke’s words. What if we’re also products of ourselves? What happens when we don’t own our demons? We don’t keep our insecurities and doubts at ground level?

  I can’t help but stare at Duke from the corner of my eye because I’m pretty sure he’s the result of just that.

  “I’m glad you ended up here,” Duke says, turning his head my way and almost, barely smiling. I know that smile. I’ve plastered it on my face a thousand times. The emotion behind it is 100 percent sincere, but something deep inside stops it from shining through to the surface.

  “I’m glad, too.” I reciprocate the almost smile.

  “Everything all right?” Will says from behind me, appearing like a ghost as if from nowhere.

  “Yeah, just keeping warm.” I raise my hands to the fire, rubbing them together, despite the warm night. “And talking.”

  “I was telling her about this P.” Duke points to his chest, pronouncing “P” without an ounce of hesitation.

  Will glances down at the scar. “One of the darkest days of my life, and I’ve had a lot, so I can only imagine—”

  “I used to feel that way, but not anymore. I’m sort of thankful for it. Strange, I know.”

  Will leans in closer to Duke. “I’d told the others it was too much, man. Too cruel and too…well…too many other things that weren’t right.”

  “I know. I remember the look in your eyes. It was the first time I saw you show fear. And then you stopped it, pulled the hot iron out of Johnston’s hand.”

  Will nods. “But I should have done more… And, despite that I knew it was wrong, I kept at it.” Will sets his eye on Duke.

  I stand and slowly walk away, sensing this should be a private conversation.

  “Yeah, well, we should all do more…” Is the last I hear before I’m out of ear shot.

  On our hike back to the cave-tree, Will leads the way and Jude lags behind the group with me. He’s quiet, but the harshness in his jaw, how he keeps peeking over at me, tells me he wants to talk. Naturally, since it’s Jude, I initiate.

  “How are you feeling about going home?” I ask.

  He keeps his eyes ahead as he answers. “I’m all right. Half excited, half scared-shitless. I’m cooking up a sort of loose plan for my life, though.” He sighs, slowing his pace. “I don’t think we can trust the windows will stay open indefinitely.” He glances ahead, then back at me. “I know you don’t agree, but we may need to seize the opportunity and go as soon as possible. Just in case.”

  I shake my head. “I meant what I said. All or nothing.”

  “Damn it, Olive. Now’s not the time to be stubborn. Three windows have opened in the past forty-eight hours. Four, including…” Jude trails off with a sigh. “It’s only a matter of time before the rest open as the others do whatever it is the island feels they should.” Did he just say the island feels? Guess I’m not the only one who thinks there’s more to this place than rocks, trees, and sand. I can’t decide if it’s more settling or unsettling.

  Jude’s words hang between us as we walk along, the others chatting and laughing about who knows what several steps ahead.

  “You know… You changed us,” Jude says, eyes ahead.

  “How so?” I’m not sure I want to know.

  “Well, despite everything that’s wrong with this place, the air is lighter since you got here. Before, sure, we had good times, but they were few and far between the misery. And, I’ll admit, I didn’t want you here at first—I really didn’t want you here—but you sparked something when you arrived.” If it wasn’t for the half smile gracing his face, I’d be unsure whether it was a compliment or an insult. “You brought us hope.” He snorts under his breath. “God, that sounds cheesy, but it’s true.”

  I laugh because, coming from Jude, the sentiment is as good as him admitting he cares for me.

  I muse over me, Olive Maxi Gagmuehler, being a bearer of hope, when Bug makes a loud, off-the-wall comment about how she might have one of the asshole sheep chase her out of the forest to mimic how she was chased the day she arrived here, and I almost choke on my tongue at the swear word leaving her small mouth.

  Jude slaps his knee, accompanied by a “Ha!” because I’m pretty sure he taught her the term.

  “Do you think it’ll work, Olive?” Bug calls back to me.

  “You can certainly give it a try, but it’s not what we worked out for you, remember?”

  She breathes in a heaping sigh even I can hear from feet behind her. “Yeah, I re-mem-ber.” And I can just imagine the exaggerated eye roll she’s giving me.

  Bug’s equation had stumped us the most. And God only knows if it’s correct. She’d lived in the orphan home since birth—at least, it’s all she’d ever known. When she and another girl finally worked up the nerve to run, Bug ended up here. The other girl wasn’t so fortunate.

  It’s no secret Bug’s greatest fear is solitude, a favorite punishment of those in charge at the home. It’s why more nights than not I wake up with the tiny beetle by my side. I don’t blame the kid. Being all alone is scary without the trauma she’s developed around it. But we believe, for her, it’s the answer. Though, with no family, nothing but hell to go back to, this hell might be preferable.

  That’s when it hits me. Am I naïve to assume everyone wants to go back?

  Bug slows down until we catch up, wrapping me into a tight bear-cub hug, and then climbing up Jude and onto his shoulders like the squirrel she is. The act doesn’t slow Jude’s pace a bit.

  I smile and Jude glances down at me.

  “Just think about it?” he asks, referring back to our conversation.

  I nod.

  I can tell Bug wants to pry, but she bites her lip instead.

  “Bat guano. Can you believe it?” Lewis shakes his head. “Why didn’t I think of that? The girl’s an evil genius.” He’s recounting how Shiloh keeps teasing him, dropping small hints into how she made the bombs. I’m sensing an increased level of respect and perhaps a new crush on Lewis’s horizon.

  “It’s unreal,” Will replies, not glancing away from the marked-up wall and all our equations. “I have to admit, though, I am glad you weren’t the one developing explosives. Imagine the carnage.” Will winks at me.

  Lewis shoots him a, hey! look.

  Will shoves him in the shoulder.

  I glance across the room. Jude works to tame Bug’s hair as Charlie lights the end of a stick, blows it out, then draws on the wall. We get on all right here; change the setting and we could be a family at home in the living room on a cold winter evening.

  “Does everyone want to go home?” I blurt out.

  They all glance up at me.

  “What do you mean?” Will asks.

  “Well, getting home was always the goal, but, considering some of our circumstances, it’s occurred to me, it may not be right for everyone.”

  Bug stands. “I don’t want to go back.
I love it here. I love all of you. It would hurt worse to go home than to stay because this is my home now.” Tears pool in her eyes, her nose and chin turning dark pink.

  “I’m going back,” Jude states, his voice strong as he eyes Lewis.

  “Me, too,” says Lewis, meeting Jude’s stare.

  Will takes a deep breath. “I’m undecided.”

  I’d known it, though it hadn’t felt true until this moment. My throat closes up, but I hold back the tears.

  “Home. I want home,” Charlie adds.

  “What about you?” Will asks me with too much hope lacing his words.

  I lose the battle with the spikes in my throat. Tears burn my eyes, but I manage to choke, “I have to go home.”

  Will nods, his jaw flexing tightly, eye set on me and only me.

  Lewis stands, then grabs a piece of charcoal. He walks to the wall and places check marks by mine, Charlie’s, and Jude’s names. Our windows are open. He marks question marks next to Bug’s and Will’s equations, then leaves his own blank. They’ll get checks once their windows open.

  “It’s coming together,” Lewis says, brushing off his hands and sitting again, satisfied grin stretched across his face. Despite the fact that he still hasn’t quite pieced his own equation together, he’s positive his has something to do with helping everyone else figure out theirs. On both sides.

  Lewis’s dad was an accomplished scientist and inventor back in his time and, according to Lewis, they didn’t see eye to eye. His father was tough on him, pushing him too hard to be perfect at everything. And, as those things go, Lewis started rebelling. The day he showed up on the island, he’d rigged his entire science class’s chemistry experiments to go wrong. And boy, did it go wrong. In his haste, he’d been overzealous with the activator and a few kids had gotten burned from the explosions. When his father was called to pick him up, Lewis ran. And, well, one minute he was jumping over a chain-linked fence, the next he was tumbling over several mossy rocks. His ticket home is getting the rest of us home.

  When I wake up the next morning, I’m cold. Bug usually sleeps next to me and the tiny thing is like a generator. More times than not, I awaken to a fresh, sticky sheen of sweat covering my skin. But not today. I’m alone. And it scares the crap out of me because it’s not right. Bug is always curled up next to me, especially since…Tilly.