Beyond the Sea (30 page)

The little dot came into focus, the thumping of the helicopter’s rotors filling his ears. It was getting closer, and he waved and jumped, hearing Troy shout hoarsely. It was close, but was it close enough?

The helicopter flew by in the distance, disappearing from sight beyond the cliff face dominating Golden Sands. Troy raced over, still shouting until he trailed off. The engine’s thunder faded.

“
Did they… Oh, God. They didn’t see us, did they?” Troy’s voice broke. “Oh God.”

Hands reddened, Brian dropped the metal. He wrapped Troy in his arms, and they clung to each other. “Shh. It’s okay. We’re—”

Thump-thump-thump-thump…

It was coming back.

When it zoomed overhead in a torrent of wind, seeming to come out of nowhere, Brian and Troy jumped and shouted and waved their arms, still naked. The helicopter flew over the island, then banked into a wide arc, coming back over the reef, the rotors sending churning ripples out over the water in a wide circle. The helicopter door opened, and a figure waved.

A sob ripped out of Brian’s throat as he dropped to his knees, sand gritty on his tongue, flying everywhere. “They see us.”

“
Oh my God.” Troy stood there staring at the chopper, his short curls whipping around. “We’re going home.”

Home.
Brian’s joy was severed by the ache that split him open, deep and hollow as he thought of his shoe-box apartment in Sydney, and days and nights far too alone.

“
What do we do?” Troy yelled.

“
I guess we put pants on.”

If Troy laughed, Brian didn’t hear it. They stared at each other and then around at their camp, and Brian couldn’t hold back a gasp. The helicopter might as well have been a cyclone, tearing the orange blanket from the top of their shelter and toppling the lean-to.

The clothes that had been steaming were strewn across the sand, coconut shells, woven bowls, and baskets scattered. Everything they’d built together had been destroyed in a blink, and as the helicopter neared, Brian had the absurd urge to scream at it to go away.

Troy was yanking on his sodden and sand-covered board shorts. “We’re just…leaving? Right now?”

The scream was still there, clawing at his throat.
No! We can’t leave like this! We need more time. One more night.
Brian stared at the hovering helicopter, sand lashing his skin, the jellyfish sting throbbing. He could only nod.

Move. Get dressed. You’re rescued! This is good news.

Yet as he scrambled to find his cargo shorts, Brian’s eyes burned with unshed tears. He blinked them away, distracted by the man being lowered on a winch to the edge of the beach. The sand whipped even more violently, and he and Troy had to duck their heads and turn their backs. Brian kept his eyes squeezed shut until he heard the roar of the engine and rotors retreat, the chopper backing off and the wind calming.

“
G’day!” The man who’d been lowered jogged over, wearing an orange jumpsuit and harness. He lifted off his helmet to reveal a shock of red hair and put his goggles on his forehead. “My word, is the world going to be shocked to see you blokes again!” He stuck out his hand, and Brian shook it automatically, Troy following suit.

“
I’m Peter Cade.” He frowned. “All right, there?”

Brian could only stare.
Is this real?
But it had to be—his hand smarted from Peter’s firm handshake, reddened by holding the piece of sun-warmed fuselage. The sight of someone else on their beach was both miraculous and horrifying. Had it only been minutes ago that they’d lazed in the shade, the two of them in their world? Now a bomb had gone off.

This is what you wanted! Rescue!

Yet instead of feeling blissfully found, Brian was sick with the certainty he was losing everything.

“
Are you ill?” Peter asked, glancing between them. “Injured?”

Troy was staring dumbly at Peter as well. Brian managed to get out, “Sorry. Just can’t believe this is really happening.”

Peter relaxed with a smile. “Believe it! You’re going home, boys. Gonna get you hooked up and hoisted, then back to the ship.”

“
The ship,” Troy echoed. “From…Australia? Are you the Coast Guard?”

“
Nah, we’re private contractors. Working out of Kiribati. Your little brother’s paid a pretty penny for these searches. Wouldn’t give up, and isn’t that a bloody good thing? Can’t lie, we thought you were long gone.” He glanced around. “Is it only the two of you?”

Brian choked down a swell of bile and the guilt that had lessened, yet he knew would never really go away. “Yes. Paula died in the crash.”

“
Sorry to hear that, mate.” Peter nodded to their decimated camp. “We’d best pack up your gear and get going, hey? I’ll put out the big fire. Good job on that, and the SOS. We saw a flash miles away and came closer.”

Troy lifted the signal mirror. “We had this.”

“
That was it for sure, then. Good work.” With a nod, he hustled off to the signal fire.

While Peter smothered the big fire with sand, Brian dumped the water out of his suitcase and carefully tucked his shaving kit inside. He and Troy gathered up their wet, sand-covered boxers and worn tank tops. The frame of the teepee still stood, its woven palm fronds mostly torn away along with the orange blanket, which he couldn’t see anywhere. Their silver emergency blankets and the torn mosquito net were still inside, caught on the log frame, along with some other fabric.

When his hand closed over the ridge of stars, Brian realized it was his forgotten uniform, which he’d shoved into a corner of their shelter. His stomach rebelled, clenching painfully. Convulsively swallowing the rush of saliva, he crawled out, dragging everything with him.

Troy collected the water bottles and flannel blankets, and they shoved it all inside the suitcase with Brian’s leather shoes. He couldn’t see the flip-flops anywhere; they were probably buried in the whipped-up sand.

The fishing kit, first aid, laundry rope, and flashlight went into the backpack, and they smothered the campfire. The chopper had come closer again, and Peter motioned them over. Brian and Troy hesitated, sharing a glance.

“
I…” Troy opened and closed his mouth. “Brian…”

Brian wanted to say so much, but the roar of the chopper was louder and louder, and there wasn’t time. Instead, he forced his lips into a smile and clapped Troy’s shoulder when he longed to take his hand.

“
Guys, we’re burning daylight!” Peter called.

Heads down in the whirlwind, they were across the beach before Brian realized. “My hat!” Ridiculous panic seized him, and he spun around, squinting. He couldn’t see it anywhere, but its light color made it hard to distinguish it from the whipping sand. He’d left it on the beach near the water after he’d been stung, and it could have been blown anywhere. He’d kept that little piece of his grandfather safe all these years, and now he’d lost it.

“
Shit! I can’t see it!” Troy yelled, spinning this way and that.

“
Mate, we’ve got to go!” The chopper had lowered down a stretcher, and Peter had already strapped on their bags, giving a thumbs up to the chopper to hoist it. “Burning fuel. We’ll get ya a new one!”

Of course Peter was right, but Brian still wanted to punch his smiling face. Instead, he nodded, and then it was time for the harness. The noise from the rotors was so loud and sand blowing so fiercely that Brian could only stand there with his eyes squeezed shut as Peter strapped a helmet on him and maneuvered him into the gear. The straps of the harness scraped his skin.

Then he was flying, his feet off the ground. He opened his eyes as he was pulled up through the air, watching Troy and Peter shrink. The irrational fear that they’d somehow leave Troy behind struck like a hammer, and Brian stayed glued to the window once he was safely in the chopper, watching with his heart in his throat as Troy was hoisted.

The man working the winch yelled instructions about staying in their seats before hauling Peter up. Brian’s head throbbed with the cacophony, and he nodded on cue as Peter came up with grin and shouted a few exuberant things. Brian had no idea what.

He met Troy’s shell-shocked gaze and tried to smile reassuringly. Then Peter yanked shut the door and the helicopter zoomed away without any further ado. Brian pressed his forehead to the window.

The haphazard rocks and bits of shiny fuselage making the crude letters of their SOS had all but disappeared in the maelstrom of sand. The fires smoldered, and the shell of their teepee stood barren and listing by the torn-up lean-to.

While their rescuers babbled words he didn’t understand, Brian watched Golden Sands fade into the blue as if they’d never been there at all.

“
Hold still.”

Troy tried to bite his tongue, but couldn’t keep the frustration from his voice. “I’m fine. I really don’t need an MRI.”

The technician nodded and spoke with a soothing tone that indicated she was going to ignore his protests. “I understand. The doctor’s ordered a full battery of tests for you both just to make sure there are no issues.”

“
Brian’s getting an MRI too?” Troy lifted his head, even though he could only see the bulk of the white machine looming. “Is he here?”

“
He’s in another exam suite. I’m sure you’ll see him soon. Now let’s relax and hold still.”

When the scan started, the machine erupted with a loud hum that made Troy’s ears ring. He cringed. He’d never realized how
noisy
the world was. Since the helicopter had appeared out of nowhere two days before, they’d been shuttled from it to a large boat powering to
Kiritimati
.

The crew had been welcoming, offering up Troy and Brian their own little cabins. There had been no way to say no; no way to sleep together. Nothing to do but try to smile when Brian gave a little goodnight wave and disappeared behind a closed door.

In the berth that was little more than a closet, Troy had slept fitfully, aching for Brian and their beach. Did Brian feel the same way? Troy kept wanting to reach for his hand.

He stared at the inside of the MRI machine, the noise merciless.

Am I really here? Is this really happening?

He wasn’t sure whether to be afraid of waking up again under the mosquito net in their teepee, or exhilarated to have Brian’s arms around him and the gentle tide returning.

You’re saved! Why aren’t you happy?!

And he was—of course he was. He’d see his family again any minute. He couldn’t wait to hug his mother and brother and everyone again, to see them safe and healthy. To tell them he loved them so much and was sorry if he hadn’t shown it enough.

But Troy twitched with anxiety, a boulder lodged in the pit of his stomach. All the lights and noise and people, and
where was Brian?
Was he okay? He’d seemed okay on the ship. They’d sat together in the ship’s galley, eating chocolate ice cream and sharing a grin even though they both puked it up soon after.

Peter and others had talked at them endlessly, never leaving them alone. He and Brian hadn’t touched each other at all, a new awkward distance between them, especially as they’d been interviewed by the US Coast Guard, who’d flown a Hercules plane to
Kiritimati to pick them up
. Innocent questions about their time on the island seemed…charged. Troy had let Brian do most of the talking, and Brian hadn’t said much.

On the bumpy flight to Honolulu, Brian had leaned over and reminded him of the hundred thousand commercial flights a day. Reminded him he was safe. He’d squeezed Troy’s forearm briefly with his palm, a flash of warmth and promise that had left Troy desolate.

What happens now?

He hadn’t seen Brian since they’d been put in separate ambulances at the Honolulu airport, the piercing sirens made all the more ridiculous since they were
fine.
Trapped in the MRI machine, he wanted to either scream or curl up and go to sleep. He didn’t have a clue where to start figuring out his feelings. Was it just over? And what was
it
anyway?

The room fell blissfully silent, and the technician’s squeaky steps crossed the floor.

“
All done. Feeling okay?”

The table he was on slid back out of the machine with a whir. “Yes. I told you, I’m fine.”

Her smile didn’t falter. “Okay then. Just a few more tests and you can rest. You’ve had a long journey.”

He wanted to stubbornly argue, but she was right about that. He’d barely slept, but he’d relax when he saw Brian again. “Yeah.”

“
You’re remarkably healthy, all things considered.” She nodded to his foot, the skin on the end of his big toe scarred a faint red. “Doc said that was likely a centipede? Must have hurt like the devil.”

“
Uh-huh. It was bad.” Memories rippled through him: Brian finding him in the darkness, then always nearby, his voice comforting and touch cool on Troy’s fevered skin.

“
You must be excited to get back to your life.” She pulled over a wheelchair, and he dutifully sat so she could wheel him out and down a hushed hallway past curious glances from other staff and the odd patient.

My life.
After truly living day to day for the first time since he was a little kid, he had no idea what his life looked like anymore.