Chapter Sixteen #2
He tried to work but spent most of the flight thinking about Flora and what she’d do when she saw him. She had no idea he was coming, which was probably for the best.
Otherwise, she’d run. And she had every right to.
He was so nervous about seeing her, worried she’d tell him to go away forever or that she’d gotten back together with Alexandre, or found someone new—that what was done was done.
If she told him to get lost, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.
Probably kick himself about it for the rest of his life and feel like the biggest failure ever. He had failed repeatedly for the last six months, but that would be the final, well-deserved blow.
He’d never been in love before, and if he was ever asked to write a book about it, he’d not recommend it to others. It was painful, and he wasn’t sure how so many people had survived having their hearts broken before. Made sense now why so much music was dedicated to it.
When the plane landed at the airfield in Madagascar, Finn looked out the window, unsure what to expect. Madagascar had never been on his list of Must-See places. He was incredibly jet-lagged, emotionally fried, and unsure about being in Africa.
And this wasn’t the end of the journey.
“Finn Woodhouse?”
Sunlight blinded him immediately as he stepped onto the tarmac. His guide—an Australian guy named Chris Davenport—stared back at him.
“Yes, that’s me. You must be Chris.”
“Nice to meet you. The charter is all ready to go. Bad news is that we can’t fly it all the way into the Menabe Region because of some conservation flyover hold the government put in place two days ago. We’ll have to four-by-four it.”
“Four by four?”
“Car.”
Finn heaved a sigh. This was so far out of his comfort zone he could hardly believe he was here.
“And then we’re there?” he asked.
“Not exactly. The Nat Geo group, according to the coordinates you sent, are deeper in the reserve. I got a permit for us, but we’ll have to motorbike it. You ride, right?”
“I do.”
“Sick.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna be sick.”
“Cheer up, mate. You’re here at the best time for weather. It’s usually bloody hot and humid.”
Finn eyed Chris—it was bloody hot and humid, so he had no idea what Chris was talking about.
The smaller charter plane was waiting at another landing strip. He didn’t have much time to register his feet on the ground, much less where he was, before they loaded up and got inside.
“So what’s this all about, mate?” Chris asked, handing him a headset. “You just traveling? My aunt didn’t say much.”
Finn glanced at Chris from the passenger seat. He was one of those true Australian adventure types. Probably chased sharks and wrangled snakes on the weekend for fun. Chris’s aunt was his mother’s executive assistant, and she’d connected him to Finn when she heard about the impromptu trip.
“If I told you why I’m here, you’d think I’m nuts.”
“Try me.”
Finn pulled the headset on.
“A girl.”
Chris laughed. “Been there, mate.”
“What’d you do about it?”
“Nothing as crazy as this.” Chris laughed again and smiled. “We’re gonna be good friends.”
Finn sighed. Nothing like being told by an Australian that you’re the crazy one.
“She must be pretty special,” Chris added.
“She is. And I majorly screwed up.”
Chris laughed again and nodded. “Even better. I love it when there’s no guarantee that this works.”
Finn groaned as the charter jet took off.
He was immediately reminded why he hated charters. Small, suffocating, liable to go down with one wayward bird strike. He tried not to think about it. His stress levels were already too high to be in some remote part of Madagascar. The last thing he needed was another heart attack.
“Don’t think about it,” he commanded himself.
Despite the stress, Finn admitted to himself that Madagascar was very cool from the air, a sea of red. He’d never seen anything like it. As he stared, his nerves faded a little.
“It’s just an adventure,” he said under his breath. “A really, really insane, potentially deadly, and likely pointless adventure.”
At least he was in good hands with Chris.
“Mate, take a look down there,” Chris called through the headset. “Baobab trees. You can just make them out.”
Finn looked down, even though he didn’t really want to, and focused on where Chris was pointing.
There they were. The trees that were going extinct. Huge trunks, tall, with flat branches in huge clusters. Finn watched as the charter flew over and felt a sudden sense of relief. Not because they were going extinct, but because he was seeing them. Something he would have missed had he stayed put.
The charter landed at another tiny airfield three hours later.
Finn’s mindset shifted again as they disembarked the charter and headed for the car—a dusty Toyota Land Cruiser. He threw his bags in the back. It was crammed with gear, the racks were stacked with gas cans and packed tents, and two dirt bikes sat on the back.
Finn tried not to smile at the sight of them. He loved dirt biking and seldom got to do it.
“You like music?” Chris asked, as the doors slammed.
“Yep.”
“Led Zeppelin?”
“Yep.”
Chris nodded and flicked a switch on the old dashboard.
That’s The Way came through the old speakers.
Finn stared out the window as they drove off.
Madagascar could only be described as Martian—red and dry and never ending. The trees were too tall, too thick, like they’d been planted upside down. It was no lush paradise either. Dust constantly rose from the Cruiser in plumes, nothing blocked the view of the sky, and it was humid.
Sweat pooled on every inch of his body as they bumped along. He fell asleep briefly, only to wake up with a huge bug on his arm brace. He’d flipped out. Chris had just laughed.
“Disgusting,” he muttered. “Dude, why in the world would you live in a place like this? It’s like Mars but with weirder plants.”
Chris laughed again. “It’s not that bad after a while. I love the wilderness. And you’ll never see a sky with more stars than here.”
“There has to be some other reason,” Finn replied, adjusting his sweaty seatbelt.
Chris shrugged and took a swig of his water. “You came for a girl. I came to get forget one.”
“I see…” Finn said quietly. “Is it working?”
“I’ll let you know.”
They bumped along for ages. Finn slept for part of the ride and woke up when Chris parked them in what looked like yet another endless field of red.
“How do you know where we are?” Finn asked, rubbing his eyes. “God, I smell.”
“I’ve got a map.”
“Where?” Finn asked. “Your phone? We’ve got no service.”
Chris pointed to his temple. “My head, mate.”
“Oh. Great.”
They unloaded the bikes from the back with some effort, strapped on backpacks, goggles, and bungeed Finn’s bag to the back of Chris’s bike.
“How many miles?”
“Only about thirty.”
“Only…” Finn muttered.
“You good with your arm brace?” Chris asked.
“Should be fine.”
Chris nodded and then said, “You’re quite the adventurer. Thought I was gonna have to drag you everywhere.”
“Don’t speak too soon.”
The ride to the Nat Geo camp was difficult—the road was rocky, dusty, and narrowed into nothing at points. Finn was leaning on his right arm and protecting his left for most of the ride, thinking about Flora.
She was already going to be hard to convince and now he smelled. That was not a selling point. She’d take one look at him and send him packing based on that alone.
What would he do? Just turn around and go back? He needed at least two days to recover. He pictured himself and Chris camping and trading sad stories. Maybe he’d join Chris, become a wildlife guide. He’d go to Uganda though. Make sure Holly didn’t reappear.
“About a mile!” Chris shouted.
Finn’s heart spun out.
He could see a camp in the distance and tall, tall trees.
That was it.
Flora was there, in that camp, in the middle of the forsaken nowhere. And now he was too.
This moment had felt like it would never come. Now it was here and Finn had no idea what to do.
“How do you want to do this?” Chris asked as they motored to a stop.
The Nat Geo camp sat about fifty yards away. Chris had wisely parked them behind some of the baobab trees, their wide trunks keeping them out of eyesight.
Finn shook his head. “I didn’t really think this far. I can’t just walk into the camp. She’ll freak.”
“What else can you do?”
A good question.
“I’m going to walk into the camp.”
Chris nodded. “Good luck, mate.”
“Thanks…”
He’d need more than luck though.
***
“Hey, Flora?”
Flora looked up from where she was gathering her laundry for cleaning. “Huh? Oh. Hey, Josie. What’s up?”
“Uh…” Josie looked unsure. “This is going to sound crazy, but there’s some guy walking around asking where you are.”
“What?” Flora said, eyeing Josie and shaking her head. “From the crew? Who is it?”
“No,” Josie said slowly. “That’s the weird thing. He’s not from the crew.”
“Josie, what do you mean he’s not from the crew? There’s no one around here for miles and it’s not as if people from nearby villages are just wandering around looking for me.”
“Yeah…” Josie replied. “He says he knows you.”
“Josie! This could be some creep or opportunist! You didn’t tell him I was here, did you?”
“He says his name is Finn. Finn Woodhouse.”
Flora felt her heart hit her feet and then the top of her head.
She walked past Josie in a state of disbelief and pushed the tent flap back. She scanned the other tents, the kitchen, the cars.
“He’s just there,” Josie said, pointing. “Do you know him?”
There he was.
Was she hallucinating? Had she hallucinated some Indiana Jones version of Finn into Madagascar? Or was he really here at her research camp in the middle of nowhere?
No, this couldn’t be real.
She took a few steps out of the tent and into the dust.
Ryan, one of the cameramen, was talking to him now. He saw Flora standing at a distance and pointed.
“Flora!” Ryan called. “You know this guy?”
Flora didn’t respond.
Closer, closer, closer.
Finn.
“Flora.”
Flora leaned back, her eyes wide.
And then she poked him in the chest. Hard.
“Ouch. Hi?” he said, looking at her concerned.
“Are you real?”
“Yes, very real. And very tired.”
No words.
She had no words.