Wreckage (21 page)

“Okay . . . so one more Kent question.” Her smile was sickeningly sweet. “What would you say, Dave, if I told you Kent’s family informed us he was an incredibly good swimmer?”

“I’d completely agree,” Dave nodded. “But, Ms. Randall, no one can outswim a shark.”

CHAPTER 20

DAVID-DAY 113

The Island

As the sun rises, pushing above the watery horizon, I plunge my hands into the shallow pool of water gathered in a low spot close to our beach. Grabbing a wet handful of sand, I rub it furiously between my nearly raw hands, in between my fingers and up my wrists, wishing it were something stronger, something more like bleach.

Bleach, that’s what I need. I want to make everything clean again, get the whitest whites like the commercial says. I want to erase the memories from yesterday, clean them out like a stain from a shirt. What was it Lady Macbeth said? “Out, damned spot!” I want to cast out forever what I saw when I burst through those trees yesterday afternoon.

“Dave, turn around and leave,” Kent ordered, as though I’d listen to his every command like a trained monkey. Maybe he forgot that I hate him or that he gave me a knife. Most likely he didn’t find me a threat. I didn’t leave.

“Get off her, Kent.” I pulled my knife out of the front pocket of my khakis and flipped the homemade sheath off its tip. Confidence surged through me as I remembered how long I’d spent sharpening it only two nights ago. “I swear if you hurt her, I’m gonna . . .”

“What?” he mocked, barely glancing my way. “You think you can do anything to me, kid? You must have delusions of grandeur or something. If you’re as smart as you think, walk away. Let someone else have a go at the girl.”

I wanted him to shut up almost as much as I wanted him away from Lily. Taking two long steps forward, I rushed at Kent.

“Seriously? You want to do this? Effing fine.” He stepped away from Lily. She twitched in the mud.
Run, Lily, RUN.

“Don’t even think about moving,” he warned her. “You can try to run away, girly, but this is an island. I know it better than either of you.” He shifted the knife between the two of us. “I’ll find you no matter where you hide.”

“Lily—don’t listen to him,” I yelled, staring Kent down. “You should go. Now.”

“Yeah,
Lily
, why don’t you leave?” he taunted, slouching toward me like a big cat homing in on its prey. “Then you won’t have to watch me kill your boyfriend.”

Lily rolled onto her side in the mud. Her face was starting to swell, nose possibly broken. My fingers wrapped tighter around my knife.

“David, I want you to leave,” she muttered through swollen lips.

“That’s never going to happen.”

She got up on her knees, breathing labored, green eyes glowing through the frame of black muck quickly drying on her face.

“Please leave, David. This isn’t worth your life.”

“Lily, shh!” I ordered, taking another step toward Kent, making mental notes. Water to my right, jungle to my left, crazy homicidal maniac in front of me. It wasn’t looking good.

Lily spoke again, now standing. “Kent, stop.” She spit a reddish-brown mixture of saliva, blood, and mud. “I’ll go with you if you promise to leave him alone.”

“Stop it,” I growled at her.

“That’s a nice offer, sweetheart, but I’m a little busy. Don’t worry.” He chuckled, baring his teeth. “I’ll get to you later. I like the chase.”

“Run!” I shouted to Lily as Kent sprang toward me, knife held high, pointed at my chest.

In a slightly delayed reaction, I pushed off the soft ground on the balls of my feet, my own knife grasped so tightly in my hand it would’ve hurt if I hadn’t been so pumped up with anger. Kent’s thick upper body slammed against my turned right shoulder, hard knuckles pounding my jaw.

Swinging both fists, I tried to land my first blow. Kent, playing dirty as always, kneed me fiercely. As I doubled over, he slapped the knife out of my hand. It flew into the underbrush as bright stars of pain exploded through my groin.

Before I knew it, he had me on my back, stocky thighs crushing my torso. I threw my hands up in front of my face defensively, blocking his rock-hard fists. Unable to reach my face, he hit me in more strategic places like my ears, and a lucky blow or two on my neck.

“You couldn’t let me have my turn, could you?” Kent growled, wrapping his fingers around my throat. I opened my mouth to yell at him but my windpipe began to collapse under the pressure of his thumbs.

This is it.
My limbs sunk uselessly to the ground and rings of black invaded my vision.
I’m going to die now.
It wasn’t peaceful, no light at the end of a tunnel or any of that crap. Only fear and regret for all the things I’d left undone.

My last thoughts, my very last ones, were of Lily—her face on the plane all lit up from the setting sun, the caring warmth in her eyes when she came to sit by me, her stern bravery as Kent stitched her shoulder on the raft, her naked grief after losing Margaret, the knowing smile that danced across her lips when she was making a joke. And the last thought that entered my mind, a realization I’d never let myself fully accept: I love her.

Then I died.

The pain was gone and instead of fighting in the shallows of the dingy pond, I was floating in a great still pool, blinking against a yellow light streaming through the canopy of trees. Small forms skipped on the shore. They looked like children. Two girls and a little boy playing—no, dancing, like fairy sprites—their little giggles rippling through the air like ribbons. A subtle blue mist filled the clearing and swirled with every jump from the kids on shore, like their gauzy white clothes were trailing behind them.

Dazed, I sat up and looked around, finding the water only a few inches deep. Trees surrounded the pool. They weren’t palm trees like on our island, they were giant redwoods like the ones my dad took me to when I was a little boy. I scanned the shore, unconsciously expecting to see him waiting for me in the trees. I wasn’t cold or in pain and I knew I should be calm and happy, but I wasn’t. A thought tugged at the edge of my consciousness, like a forgotten word that’s harder to recall the longer you think about it. I couldn’t be here, in the forest mist; I had to be somewhere else, I had to be . . .

As suddenly as I was transported to the forest glen, I was pulled by my feet through the water of the pool in one giant whoosh. I was back. Kent was still on me, but his hands were gone from around my neck. Instead, he lay flat on top of me, with his usual perfume of body odor and fish guts. As the haze of death lifted from my brain, I tried to shove him off. He didn’t try to stop me.

“Lily! Lily!” I rasped, my throat throbbing where Kent’s thumbs almost crushed it. After a few good pushes, I slid out from Kent’s unconscious body. Left leg numb, I gimped my way to the tree line, standing so quickly my head spun. My vision was still a little fuzzy from the fight, and tiny grains of mud scratched against my eyes when I blinked.

Hiding in the thick underbrush, I scoured the pool for Lily. I searched the trees flanking the other side of the pool, thinking she’d be close to keep an eye on what was happening but far enough away to easily escape. She wasn’t there. Dread building, I flicked my eyes in the opposite direction, counting the seconds I had till Kent woke and we’d have to run.

“Where are you, Lily?” I whispered.

Then I found her, crouched behind the laundry-covered rocks, face in her hands. I glanced quickly at Kent, and left the safety of the trees, careful to give him a wide berth. Then I ran haltingly to the rocks.

She was so tiny pushed up against that boulder, her body folded in on itself. I locked my sights on her so she didn’t fade into the dirt and rocks. She’s so thin, the bones of her arms sticking out in unnatural ways. Why hadn’t I noticed before?

Reaching her hiding place, I fell to my knees in front of her, splashing mud everywhere. My arms ached to hold her and tell her everything was going to be all right, that I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her again. But when I reached out to touch her knee, she flinched.

Wrenching her hands away from her face, I saw terror spelled out in the trails of tears etched through the dirt on her cheeks and the blood coagulated in the corners of her mouth. It took her a full two seconds to understand who I was. When she did, her lower lip trembled and new tears formed in her red-rimmed eyes.

“You’re okay,” she whispered, surprised. “I thought . . . I thought you were dead.”

“I thought I was too,” I said, lightly.

“Shhh.” She reached a shaking hand out and placed it on my lips to silence me. “I can’t hear you say that. You’re alive. You’re alive!” I grabbed her hand, kissing her fingertips, ignoring the blood covering them.

“Are you okay, Lily? Did he . . .” I searched for words that wouldn’t make me want to kill Kent. “Was I too late?”

Lily pulled her hand away as though I’d bitten it.

“No.” She shivered. “Almost.”

I reached for her again, but hesitated. The only thing covering her legs and torso was mud, her underwear stained the same blackish brown. I could only imagine what happened to the bra she pressed against her chest, broken straps flopping over each shoulder. I reached over the rock and grabbed the first piece of nearly dry laundry I touched and pulled it down to her. Thankfully, it was my threadbare blue polo and not something that belonged to Kent.

“Here, lean forward.” She tipped toward me, leaning against her bloody knees. I slipped the moist shirt over her head. When my knuckles grazed the back of her skull she pulled away and I saw the dark clumps of dirt and blood clotting in her hair. I guided her arms through the sleeves, taking count of all the places she was bruised or broken. Her palms, knees, and elbows were blackish red with blobs of thickening blood, her face swelling and bleeding on one side like it’d been crushed by a rock. Even her toes were bleeding, one of the nails missing entirely. Oh, my Lily. What did he do to you? I couldn’t count anymore.

I let the shirt fall loose around her sides and reached for the collar, careful to keep our skin from touching, refusing to contribute to her pain. After I buttoned the two buttons, I hung on an extra second, the only way I could touch her without hurting her.

When I finally let go of the fabric, Lily’s hands shot up from out of the mud and wrapped around my wrist. “Thank you for coming for me, David. Thank you.” She wove her fingers through mine, their trembling making me feel my failure more fully.

“I’m sorry, Lily, this never should’ve happened. I’ll never let it happen again.” I hadn’t checked Kent in a while and it made me prickle all over like someone was watching me. I tried to peek over the rock, but Lily held on with an iron grasp. “I have to stand up, Lily.” I started to panic. “I want to keep you safe. Please let me keep you safe.”

She still didn’t let go. “He’s not there, he’s gone.”

“Huh?” I peeled her fingers off, every muscle in my body flexing, ready for another fight. I crept up the side of the rock and scanned the pool, already planning defensive measures. But Kent still lay in the dirt, passed out. Tiny drops of relief cooled my nerves. We still had time to plan our escape.

I crouched down quickly. “He’s still out cold. I know you’re hurt and frightened but we have to get out of here before he wakes up. Can you stand?”

“He’s gone,” Lily curled up into herself. “He’s gone, he’s gone,” she repeated.

“No, Lily, he’s still there. We have to go!” I pulled her arm again, ready to pick her up and carry her.

When I yanked her hand off her face, she glared up at me. “David, would you listen to me? He’s not coming back, we don’t have to run. He’s gone!” she shouted. “He’s gone because I killed him. I used the knife you made for me and when he was on you I . . .”

“What? What do you mean?” The words swirled around like a blizzard and I had a hard time focusing on their meaning.

She took a shaky breath like she always did when trying not to freak out. Pulling her knees in tighter, she picked at the frayed hem of my shirt.

“When he attacked you, I ran and grabbed my knife from the laundry pile. I swear”—she held up her hand like she was in court—“I was only going to threaten him but he ignored me. He didn’t flinch, he just kept choking you. Your face was blue, David. Then you stopped fighting and I got scared.” She grabbed something solid out of the mud and held it up. The knife. I’d held that piece of rock in my hands for hours as I chipped and scratched, turning it into a weapon. It was covered in blood.

“You stabbed him?”

“Yes,” she mumbled, staring at the ground like she couldn’t look at me. “I stabbed him.” She hid behind a curtain of dirty hair.

I settled down next to her, leaning sideways till our arms bumped. When she didn’t move away, I walked my fingers toward hers. She turned her palm up and I laced our fingers together. With a little squeeze, she unknowingly dulled the pain from my aching head and throat. She must’ve felt the same, because she curled against my shoulder.

We sat like that without saying a word until my legs started to cramp. I listened to the birds and the wind and a part of me listened for a man rising from the dead. I don’t know what she was thinking. I couldn’t bring myself to ask her. Instead, I counted her breaths and thanked God she’d been spared. Soon, her breathing went from steady to ragged.