Beyond the Sea (10 page)

As Brian sat and crossed his legs in the sand, he had to admit it felt good to be off his feet. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“
Um, you have a head injury? That’s a good place to start.” Troy handed him the mirror. “I was thinking of those rocks over there, by the end of the island.”

Brian gazed to his right. He hadn’t really noticed the smaller black volcanic rocks that dotted the beach’s end; his attention had been focused on the cliff face, and whether… He shook off the macabre thoughts.
Paula’s dead. It was over in a heartbeat for her. Nothing can change it now.
“Good idea. Still be careful.”

“
I will. Make sure you keep your hat on.” Troy squinted at him uneasily, looking as if he wanted to say more. Finally he added, “It’s hot.”

“
Uh-huh. I’m fine.”

Although he didn’t appear entirely convinced, Troy went off toward the cliff. It really was damn hot, eighty degrees if not more. They’d need to build something for shade in the next few days.

Brian pulled out the signaling mirror and read the instructions on the back, which had a round indent in the middle of the plastic about the size of a nickel. A little star-shaped pinhole for sighting sat in the center of the indent.

After lifting his hand and reflecting sunlight onto it with the mirror, he slowly lifted the sighting hole to his eye, finding the bright dot. It felt like needles pierced his brain, but he had to suck it up. Now he was supposed to aim this dot at his target, but not having a specific plane or ship in sight, he panned back and forth across the horizon as suggested by the instructions. A few times he had to start the process again and find the dot.

“
How’s it going?” Troy asked as he passed by with a rock in his hands.

“
Getting the hang of it, I think.”

After ten minutes, his head throbbed too powerfully to ignore, and he swallowed two more Advil. After closing his eyes for a few breaths, he forced them open so he didn’t fall asleep. Focusing on Troy hefting up a rock by the cliff, he watched.

Troy really wasn’t at all what he’d expected. He’d gotten the call to copilot the overseas flight and hadn’t given any thought as to passengers until Paula had indulged in that giddy little smile in the terminal and leaned in with eyes shining, almost bouncing on her toes.

He had to squeeze his eyes shut at the thought, bracing through a wave of nausea and sorrow. The storm had cleaned the stone of Paula’s blood and remains, but he could still feel the solid flesh of her arm in his hand.

Why hadn’t he been a better friend? She’d asked him for drinks repeatedly, insisting he’d be a great wingman so she could pick up hot chicks. He’d disagreed, but had actually been tempted a few times. Paula had teased and cajoled and made him smile for real. While he knew he’d never love flying again, he’d liked it with Paula, and that was more than he’d had in a long time.

As Troy went back and forth, undoubtedly working up a hell of a sweat, Brian realized he’d actually talked more to Troy in the past…how long had it been? Shit, he wasn’t sure. Uncapping a plastic bottle, he drank. This was the second day. Right. They’d crashed yesterday morning. Maybe they could use one of the stones as a calendar and scratch the days on it.

But yes, he’d spoken to Troy more than he’d spoken to anyone in too long. The only time he spent this many hours with someone was on a long flight, and that was different. Now Troy was all he had.

Impossible questions simmered in his mind. How many days could they survive? What if it didn’t rain? What if they got sick? What if—

“
You okay?” Troy called.

Blinking, Brian refocused. Troy stood by his growing collection of black rocks. “Yes.”

“
Maybe you should lie down in the shade.”

“
No. I’ll start on the first ‘S.’ I’m feeling better.”

Acquiescing, Troy went for more rocks, and Brian pushed to his feet and approached the pile. The rocks were heavier than he expected. Troy certainly didn’t seem to be afraid of hard work. As he returned, Brian asked, “Aren’t rock stars supposed to be spoiled?”

Laughing, Troy dropped his load. “I’m not a rock star.”

“
Okay, pop star. Teen idol. Whatever. I thought the rich and famous had people to do everything for them.”

“
You wanna be my assistant?” Troy grinned. “I think you’re the only applicant. You’re a shoo-in.”

“
How’s the pay?” Brian picked up a stick from the scattered foliage still left on the beach.

“
Pretty shitty. Do you take coconuts?”

“
As a matter of fact, I do.”

They laughed even though it wasn’t that funny, and Troy went off again. Using the stick, Brian started tracing the SOS in the sand, stopping and starting several times. When Troy returned, he stood there, feet visible beyond the top curve of the letter Brian was digging. Brian glanced up, his heart leaping into his throat when he saw what Troy was holding.

“
I thought we could use some pieces? They’d be shiny.” Troy gazed hesitantly between Brian and the two-foot piece of wing in his hands.

Brian stood straight up, his heart racing. “Don’t cut yourself. It’s dangerous.” He wanted to grab the metal and hurl it into the sea.

“
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought it would be a good idea.”

“
I’m not upset.” The stupid lie hung there in the hot air. He stared at the metal, hearing the shriek of it as they’d collided with the side of the cliff. “Is there a lot of it over there?” he asked hoarsely.

“
No. The storm washed most of it away. I guess there might be some in the water beyond the rocks. Metal and…stuff.”

“
Debris.” Brian’s mouth had been dry, but now saliva flooded it, his stomach clenching. He forced himself to look up at Troy, who watched him with kind eyes as he licked his lips nervously. “Yes, we should use it in the letters. Good idea.” He rubbed his face. “Just be careful with the metal. It really can be sharp. I should be the one to pick up the pieces.”

“
Just work on tracing the letters. I’d suck at that. I’ll be careful, I promise.” Troy cautiously put the metal in the sand next to the rocks. On his way back to the cliff base, he gave Brian’s shoulder a wordless squeeze.

Brian was sure he could feel the heat where Troy’s hand had been, and it was strangely comforting. He went back to work after gulping more water. “Writing giant sand letters is harder than I thought,” he said as Troy returned.

“
Hauling rocks is pretty much exactly as hard as I thought.”

They laughed, and Brian breathed more easily. As far as being stuck on a desert island with a stranger went, he could have done a hell of a lot worse than Troy.

“
I think ‘SO’ will have to do for now.” Plopping down on the sand, Troy pulled off his sweat-soaked orange bandanna and gulped from one of the plastic water bottles. He grimaced at the taste of the warm water, swatting at a fly. The flies left itchy bites he tried not to scratch.

Brian sat beside him with a soft groan and drank as well. He closed his eyes. “It’ll be a philosophical statement.”

Troy wanted to ask Brian if he was okay, because he clearly had a killer headache, but he knew by now Brian would insist he was fine. The vivid bruise on his forehead was stark against his skin. “Like, ‘So what?’ Maybe we should do a dot-dot-dot instead of the second S tomorrow.”

A faint smile lifted Brian’s lips as he rubbed his temples. “Sounds like a plan.” He opened his eyes. “Oh, the mirror.”

“
I can do it.”

“
It’s all right. You did all the hauling.” Brian took the mirror from one of the big pockets in his cargo shorts and aimed the reflection before sweeping it side to side in a slow pan. He’d been doing it regularly, and now the sun was getting low in the sky, faint pink streaks beginning to appear.

“
They really didn’t come,” Troy said before he could bite his tongue. He shook his head. “I know it was stupid to think they’d find us the first day.” But in the back of his mind, he’d been hoping.

“
Not stupid. Optimistic. Nothing wrong with that.”

“
I guess.”

As he’d hauled the rocks across the sand, deep down he’d expected to hear the drone of an engine. But there were no planes or ships or anything but chirping birds and the gentle lap of the returning tide. It was beautiful, but God, when he looked out, there was just
nothing.

Troy tried to ignore his thumping heart and push away the panic. “I’m a mess. Want to rinse off? I’ll take my chances with the possibly deadly creatures of the deep.”

“
Water’s so clear, we’ll see them coming.” Brian returned the mirror to his pocket, buttoning it closed carefully.

Troy glanced down at the board shorts and tank top he’d borrowed. “Do you usually swim in these shorts?” His sweaty junk had been rubbing against them since he didn’t have underwear.

“
I do, but don’t worry about it.” Brian got to his feet, and Troy tensed, waiting for him to sway or stumble. But he seemed secure as he unzipped his shorts. “We have so few clothes that we should save them for land.”

“
Okay, cool. But first…” He felt his cheeks get hot. “I need to go to the bathroom. Um, number two.”

“
Right, right.” Brian turned to the jungle. “I believe the standard outdoor method is to dig a little hole, do your business, and cover it up again.”

With a shudder, Troy looked at the trees. “In there?”

“
I know, it’s not an appealing thought.”

“
What if…” It was so stupid, but he had to say it. “What if something bites my butt?”

Brian kept a straight face for a few seconds before shaking. Then he winced. “Ow. It hurts to laugh.”

Troy couldn’t help but smile too, wanting to hear more of Brian’s rumbly, reassuring laughter. “That’s what you get for mocking my extremely valid concern.”

“
My apologies. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Just…”

“
Poop fast?”

“
Indeed.” Brian smiled again, a dimple creasing his cheek. “At least we can piss by the trees or in the ocean. But shit floats, and…ugh.”

Troy grimaced. “Yeah, that’s super gross. Dig a hole it is. Even though I really don’t want to.” He poked through the storm debris by the tree line and found a big stick. “Three days ago, I was at the Hilton.”

“‘
First Up singing sensation shits in the woods, inspires back-to-nature craze.’”

Troy bit back a laugh. “It’s
Next
Up, thank you very much. Also—” He cut off as a thought occurred. “Oh God, what do we use for toilet paper?”

“
Well…” Brian shrugged and nodded toward the trees

“
What if the leaves are poison or something?”

“
Hmm. Good point.” Brian joined him at the jungle entrance and examined the wide leaves of a plant. He tore one off and rubbed it over the back of his hand. “See if I get a rash. Better here than…there.”

“
Definitely.”

After they both tested a patch of skin on their hands and waited ten minutes with no ill effects, Troy headed about ten feet in with a fistful of leaves, wearing Brian’s flip-flops. He beat the bushes with his stick, then dug out a little hole. Feeling extremely awkward and exposed, he squatted.

And waited.

“
Come on, come on,” he mumbled. “You know it’s time. Let’s just get on with it!”

He finally willed himself to relax enough, and when he was finished, he covered up the hole with a grimace and practically ran back to the beach. Troy really hoped he wouldn’t have to get used to
that
.

Brian had taken off his clothes and waded in the sea. He was in good shape, tall and lean, and Troy idly wondered if pilots were required to work out. Boy banders sure as hell were. He could imagine their trainer now, glaring that he wasn’t doing his push-ups and planks.

Troy stripped and walked into the calm water, inhaling the briny air deeply. The bottom was perfectly soft and sandy, the startling clear turquoise water just cool enough to be refreshing. He sighed as he dunked his head, the ocean floor just out of reach of his toes. “Oh yeah. This was a good idea.”

“
Amen.” Brian ducked under and came back up, slicking his thick, short hair.