Only another week.

Another week until... Until what? Until we set off for certain death? Until we begin the journey that will take us home?

This feeling of butterflies in my stomach is becoming unbearable. At first they were just flutters. But that was yesterday. Now they’ve turned into radioactive butterflies and are all out attacking my tummy from the inside. It’s all I can do not to get sick every time I think about what’s about to happen. I can’t even imagine how bad it will be when we leave.

"You asleep?"

I’m startled by the question. I was sure I was the only one still awake. I glance at Cynthia in the semi-darkness of our room. I can barely make out her form but I can see enough to know that she’s staring at me. She stares at me a lot these days.

"Aren’t I always?" I eventually reply.

"Thinking about-"

"What else?"

"Yeah. Me too." She pauses, but I’m no fool. I know the momentary silence is merely a sign of the long-winded conversation to come. I put my hands behind my head and get comfortable. We’ve all been avoiding any heavy discussion about the trip so...it had to happen sooner or later.

When the silence finally breaks, it’s with surprising hesitation. "Do you think...we’ll make it?"

"Of course we will." But the answer is automatic and hollow.

"Rory." she huffs, obviously not happy with my less than convincing reply.

"We have to believe that we’ll make it. It will all turn out for the best."

"Ya know...your positivity is absolutely not helping at all," she says, sounding a bit edgy. "Tell me the truth," she whispers. "Do YOU think we’re going to make it home?"

I have to seriously think about my answer here. It isn’t as if I haven’t been pondering this non-stop for the past three days, but it’s a whole other thing to make the words come out of my mouth. Because when they come out, there’s no taking them back. And right now I don’t want to be realistic. I want to comfort both of us and say that everything will work out perfectly. That somehow we’ll make our way out to sea only to find that we’re only a few hours away from an inhabited land mass.

"I honestly don’t know. But I think it’s better to try than to stay here forever."

"Really? I don’t know. Here isn’t so bad."

I glare at her. Has she gone mad? I ask her just that.

"It’s not as if I don’t WANT to be home again. I just think that... Well it wouldn’t be SO bad if this was where I spent the rest of my life. I’ve never felt so close to nature. I’ve never been so independent. I’ve never been this long without my cell phone. And I gotta tell ya, Rory, I’m starting to like it."

I rub my thumb against the bridge of my nose. I can’t believe I’m hearing this. What’s more is I can’t believe I... Well I think I agree.

***

If those fucking hens don’t stop yapping...!

I swear, I’m starting to wonder if they don’t just have conversations in their sleep. It would account for the many times I’ve woken up in the middle of the night to their fucking girly laughter.

No laughter tonight. Can’t imagine that there would be any, though. Too much happening. Everyone’s suddenly getting it. They’re finally being hit with the gravity of the situation. About damn time too. I’m not gonna launch some party raft with an unprepared crew. They need to get it through their heads that this is damn serious.

Jeez. We’re going to be out on the open water for days. Maybe weeks. I know for a fact that there is minimal land around us and it would be a miracle if any of it was actually inhabited. The way I figure it, the current will run us in a north westerly direction. That’s if I remember the coordinates correctly, of course. It has been several months and I’m trying to allow for mistakes.

Worst case senario; we hit a storm and all die. Or...maybe we run out of supplies and one of us dies and we have to eat that person.

As long as it’s not me.

Or Brian. (For some reason I would worry for my own health if I had to eat Brian.)

Maybe we’ll get lucky and happen up on a fishing boat or something. That would be convenient.

All I know is that I’m starting to feel the burden of suggesting this idea. What if someone does die? I don’t like these people...and they ARE coming of their own volition. Still, I think I might actually not want them to die because of something I did.

Ha! That’s funny, considering that when we started this trip to hell, my main mission was to make sure they never made it back alive.

I sit up when I realize that the girls have stopped talking. Quiet. Is it possible? Oh - oh...nope. Still going.

"I don’t know!" I hear Rory nearly yell. Sounds like trouble if Rory’s actually getting pissy.

That’s another danger, I guess. If we get out in the middle of the ocean and I have to put up with some female PMS moment... Well I might be forced to lighten the load. For their sakes, I better not have to.

Putting my hands behind my head, I stretch out and sigh. I’d be really happy if I could be in a climate controlled building again. Not to sound like a pussy, but I’ve been sweating for what’s been the better part of a year.

Of course, the air feels even hotter than usual tonight. I worry about this. Usually this damp heat is the tell-tale sign of an incoming storm. That’s ALL we need right now. Ha!

Or...maybe...

If we could ride the heavier waves... Maybe we could launch out to the main currents faster than if the water was calm.

Yeah. Yeah...

If it worked then we could leave as soon as the storm lets up. As if to punctuate my idea, I hear the first patter of rain on the roof and the distinct sound of thunder in the distance and I smile.

Not long now.

***

“So if we can be ready to leave when this storm lets up - preferably first thing tomorrow morning - we’ll likely have a better chance of making it into open water faster.”

I stare unblinkingly at Neil as he paces around his room in front of us. I wonder how safe it would be to actually listen to him. He is, after all, the reason we crashed here in the first place.

On the other hand, it isn’t as if he wants to get us - or rather himself - killed. Still, this is Neil we’re talking about.

"How safe is this?" I finally ask outright.

He looks annoyed that I dared to question him, but at the same time the question itself doesn’t seem to surprise him at all.

"It will be a lot more difficult to fight the waves, but once we’re past them, the trip should be much easier. The water will be more active and the current will be stronger - in and out. This way we wouldn’t have to rely solely on the wind.

That is a good point. I was wondering what would happen if we had no wind for the sail, which consists of a small parachute we salvaged from the plane. It wouldn’t be of much use if there was no breeze behind it.

"So it’s more dangerous, but it will be a better payoff if we do make it?" Cynthia asks, sounding skeptical.

"Basically."

"And what if something happens? What if we get through the waves and it all falls apart?" Rory adds.

Neil shrugs. "We’ll have to deal with that situation when and if it arises. The important thing is that, if we want to do this, we have to be ready right now. Which means we need to gather supplies, food and water ASAP. If we’re in agreement..."

The rest of us look at each other silently, not sure what to say. We have no argument, but the apprehension is nearly palpable in the small room. It seems as though the choice has already been made and there is little more left to say. "I’ll go for water." I say, ready to get the fucking show on the road.

It isn’t long before I hear "I’ll come with you," from Justin. I was expecting that. He’s been far too quiet and I’ll bet that I have the entire story of what’s on his mind in less than five minutes from the time we leave the others. I’d almost stake my life on it.

As it happens, Justin doesn’t say a word until we get to our destination.

"Should we be doing this, Brian?"

I pause for a moment. Plunging a container into the pool, I let it fill up with water while I try to wade through what his question means. "Getting water?" I glance up.

The exasperated look on his face tells me that I’m way off my mark. He shakes his head and busies himself with wiping rain off of his face with the back of his hand. "I mean...maybe leaving now isn’t such a good idea."

"Then why didn’t you speak up before?"

"I don’t know. I don’t know that this should be a group decision. It isn’t up to me to decide for everyone. But... Brian, I don’t know if I really want to leave. At all."

I think maybe I was expecting this from him but... "WHAT?!" Is he insane? "Are you INSANE?" He continues scooping water, avoiding my eyes completely. "Justin. Come on. Don’t be stupid. We cannot stay here!"

"Why not?"

"Well..." Well...

"Brian, you know I’m all for taking chances -"

Ha! That’s true enough. Justin has bigger balls than anyone I know. Sometimes even me.

"- but I think it might be a better idea to stay than to risk our lives on a raft in the middle of the fucking ocean. Especially right now, in this weather."

"Justin," I start, exhaling heavily. He shakes his head, already looking dejected. He knows I won’t stay. I can’t stay. If it were just about my career or just about getting back to civilization then I might be tempted to remain. But I have a son. And I don’t want him growing up without a father.

Although... Well, Michael has done a better job at playing daddy than I ever could have. To his kid and mine. I know he’d take care of Gus if I wasn’t there.

But...no. That would be insane, just like I said. We can’t stay here. No.

"Let’s head back." Justin stands and turns, balancing four heavy containers of water on his shoulders expertly. I balance my own containers under my arms and hustle to catch up.

The discussion is tabled. At least for now.

***

Maybe they’re packing. Can’t imagine what anyone would want to take that couldn’t be shoved into a bag in less than ten seconds.

Maybe they’re taking naps. Who could sleep at a time like this though? I’ve always had nerves of steel, but right now even I’m feeling shakier than a schoolboy with his first in-class boner.

I think it’s more likely that they’re starting to freak out and just wanted to do it in the privacy of their own rooms.

I noticed that the girls have been much quieter than usual today. And Brian and Justin...when they came back from getting water, they both looked like they wanted to toss their cookies.

"I said I’m going, Brian! Shut the fuck up about it already!" I hear Justin rail.

"OKAY!" Brian screamed back. "So sorry that I want you with me!"

So am I.

It seems like I’m going to be dealing with a very unsure group of people. But they’ll be fine. Yeah. Once we get out there in open water, they’ll have time enough to calm themselves down about the whole thing. We just have to make it past the point of no return and then we’re on our way home.

Home sweet home.

***

It seems like she’s been packing for ages.

I stare down at the seashells that Rory is placing gently on one of Brian’s extra shirts. I watch her lovingly wrap them into a bundle as if they’re the most precious jewels and I sigh. Then I realize she’s speaking.

"Did you say something?"

Rory’s brow arches in disbelief. "I’ve been talking for the last five minutes. Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said?"

"No. Sorry."

She stares at me, her eyes full of worry, "What’s the matter with you?"

"Rory," I huff. I’m not angry. Not annoyed, especially not with her. But the question sparks annoyance within me and I can’t keep the testiness from spilling out onto my friend.

"What? I think it’s a valid question." She puts her bundle of shells aside and scoots closer to where I sit. "Are you scared? Because we’re all scared. It’s nothing to be ashamed of."

"I’m not scared," I snap.

"Okay. Then what is it?"

I fall back onto the mat we’ve been using as a bed for all these months and I press the palms of my hands to my eyes. "I just... I’m really starting to have second thoughts about this, Rory."

"About leaving."

"Yes."

"You don’t want to leave."

"No. I mean...I don’t know."

"So you...you’re considering... You aren’t actually considering...staying are you?"

I remain silent, not wanting to admit it aloud.

"Cynthia," she starts, but I can only imagine that she has no way of knowing what to say to me right now. I don’t know what to say to me. If the situation was reversed, I would probably just knock her out for even hinting at something like staying here and then drag her along with us whether she liked it or not.

Wait...

"Rory?" I remove my hands from my eyes to see her looking down at me. I sit up quickly and grab her hands, holding them in my own. "Rory...I’m not saying that I’m really going to stay. But...say if I decided not to leave tomorrow... If I were to stay on the island, would you consider staying with me?"

There’s an extremely pregnant pause and the air seems to buzz with tension. After a minute, Rory pulls her hands out of mine and looks away. "I only have to consider it?" She mutters.

I don’t know why it’s funny - why her question makes me so happy - but I can’t help myself. I giggle and hug her tightly to me.. She returns the hug and laughs as well. In the middle of all the hugging and laughter, our lips once again find their way to one another and neither of us bother to pull away.

***

The weather is a bit worrisome. I thought the storm would have slacked off by now. At least a bit more than it has. It isn’t raining as much at least. Still, the dark clouds are looming all across the horizon and I wonder if maybe we shouldn’t wait another day.

Then again, what do I know?

Neil says we should go ahead. That we’ll be fine.

Then again, what does HE know?

We’re taking a big chance here. I realize that. And I’m starting to regret talking Cynthia out of staying. Maybe we should just stay. It’s not really that bad a life here. We have food, water, a shelter, sun, swimming...bird...watching... Okay so it isn’t the entertainment capital of the world, but it’s been a good home.

"Come on. We need to get started. Rory, stop daydreaming and tie your shit to the raft already."

Exactly who died and made him king?

Ugh. For some unknown reason I actually do as he says. Getting home will mean getting rid of Neil. I really need to keep that fact in focus I guess.

The rain is beating down a little harder than it was an hour ago when we started, but we all push past this fact as we take our places around the raft. "On three, we’re going to pick it up and move it to the edge of the water."

We all nod.

"One. Two..."

"Wait! Shouldn’t we...say a prayer or something?" I ask.

Justin shakes his head. "Ror...I’ve been praying for the last twenty-four hours. God knows what’s going down. Or...rather, staying afloat," he adds when he hears Cynthia whimper.

"ONE," Neil begins again. "TWO?" He looks around to see if we have anything else to say. "THREE!"

Together we lift and shift the raft down the beach and into the water. Holding it steady as the water laps forcefully against our calves, we all trade looks as if to say ‘now or never’, ‘good luck’, ‘i love you’. Brian leans over and kisses Justin, murmurs something against his forehead and I look over at Cynthia, giving her a small smile.

"Everybody ready to go?" Neil asks, forcing the rest of us to pull ourselves back to the task at hand. We nod. "Okay, the first few waves are going to be the worst. We just have to paddle through them. Just make sure you keep your hold on the rope at all times. That way if you fall off, we won’t lose you."

Finally the time has come. I cannot believe this. After...months - I’m not sure how many - we’re finally leaving the island. God, please let us make it in one piece.

Before we face any waves, we have to make our way out of the lagoon. Neil and Brian paddles us towards the rougher waters ahead and the rest of us glance back to take one final look at the house that has been our home for the last months of our lives. I fight the urge to cry. No point in shedding tears now.

"Hold on. First wave!" I hear Brian yell over the sound of the rolling crest. I do a double take and glance down at my hand to make sure that I’m indeed holding on to my portion of rope. Then I glance at Cynthia who has her eyes squeezed shut. I too close my eyes and prepare for the worst.

A great, cold wall presses on me and, for a moment, I feel as though I’ll never breathe again. But then it passes as quickly as it came.

That was the first wave? We can handle this! That was nothing really!

And then the second wave approaches. This one I see coming and it scares me more than the first one ever had a chance to. As we surface from the second pounding, I choke and sputter on the water that managed to go up my nose.

The third wave is the same. I finally realize that I must not look, lest I only scare myself into making the waves seem worse than they really are.

After the third I turn my head away and attempt to turn my senses off. If only I didn’t hear the fear in Neil’s voice when he screams, "Hold tight! Hold tight!"

Shocked, I look up just in time to see the wave towering above us like an oppressive black ceiling. I’m so taken aback that I can’t even find the power to be afraid. I hold tight to the rope in my hands and clench my teeth.

It comes as no surprise when I feel myself floating in the water. The surprise is that I’m clutching a piece of rope that I can somehow tell is no longer attached to anything else.

Continued in Part 15