29. Dylan
TWENTY-NINE
DYLAN
The rest of the day is tense. We’re a bit like two strangers. Unfailingly polite. Mostly not sure what to say to each other.
Because this has never happened before. We’ve never had a fight. We’ve never really argued before about anything. At least not seriously.
Like this island, this is completely unknown territory for us.
By the time it gets dark, I just want this day to be over already. Maybe things will look brighter in the morning.
I try not to think about what this place is doing to my teeth, seeing that I have no access to a toothbrush.
I do my best with the hem of my shirt and rinse my mouth with salt water.
Does it help at least a little bit? No fucking clue, but it makes me feel like I’m doing something, and as I’ve learned, feeling like I’m doing something is the key to staying sane in this place.
I throw a few more branches onto the fire and make sure the stack of wood we’ve gathered from the forest is big enough to get us through the night.
Then I climb into the life raft. I pull my sweater off and put it under my head as a pillow. I can do without a mattress, I can even manage without a blanket, but sleeping without a pillow just feels wrong.
I stare at the ceiling of the life raft and wait for sleep.
Nothing.
I’m tired.
But nothing.
A little bit later, Adrian climbs into the raft and makes sure the flaps are closed.
He lies down next to me.
Neither of us says a word.
I halfheartedly listen to the sounds around us.
The island is never quiet. That’s another thing I’ve learned so far. Even at night, this place is constantly noisy. There are the sounds of insects and rodents and small animals, all going about their business. And the waves. The hush of the ocean and the crash of the waves on the shore.
For the first week or so I kept expecting to wake up and realize it had all been a dream.
A strange nightmare that I’d recount to Indy when we’d grab lunch later.
And he’d try to find a hidden meaning in the dream, dissect my subconsciousness and get an insight into the weirdness of my brain.
And I would laugh and tell him to stop trying to psychoanalyze me. That it was just a dream.
By now I’ve mostly accepted that this isn’t a dream. At least, not the kind you can wake up from.
Might be purgatory, I guess. Or not. Might be just a fucking mess of incidents that led us to this place right here. No rhyme or reason or higher purpose. Just an unfortunate series of events that resulted in the perfect storm.
I grit my teeth and try not to succumb to the chant of unfair, unfair, unfair .
It’d be so easy to let the bitterness take over.
Useless.
But easy.
I take a deep, slow breath.
Survival isn’t just about finding food and water.
It’s also about having hope and keeping that hope alive.
Sleep still doesn’t come.
I stare at the canopy of the life raft.
Adrian makes some sort of noise in his sleep. I turn my head to look at him. He turns onto his side.
I close my eyes and will myself to fall asleep.
Adrian turns again.
His breathing gets faster and another low sound escapes his throat.
I frown.
His breaths start coming faster and faster until he’s gasping for air.
“Adrian?” I push myself into sitting position.
“No,” he mumbles. “No, no, no, no.”
I have no idea what to do.
“Adrian,” I say it louder and put my hand on his shoulder.
He shoots up with a loud gasp and looks around wildly. He’s still panting when his eyes land on me.
My own heart is hammering like crazy too.
I swallow through the dryness in my throat.
“You were having a nightmare.” My voice sounds too loud in the darkness.
Adrian is silent for a long time.
His breathing is still too fast and too loud.
“Tell me,” I say.
“There’s nothing to tell.” I think he means to come off as cross, but he sounds shaken to the core.
I move closer. “Tell me.”
Instead, he scrambles to get out of the raft.
I blow out the breath I’ve been holding. The rational thing to do would be to let him go and calm down, but something snaps inside me, and then a fight suddenly seems like a really fucking good idea.
I push the canopy aside with more force than necessary in any conceivable situation and climb out of the raft.
“Hey!” I snap. “I was talking to you.”
He’s marching down the beach.
“Go back inside,” he throws over his shoulder.
I rush after him as best I can. My ankle is almost better by now, but whenever I move at faster than walking pace, it starts to throb uncomfortably.
“Oh my fucking God!” he growls when I catch up to him. “Leave me alone and go inside.”
“Fuck you. You don’t get to run away from me.”
“I’m just asking for a little bit of fucking space!”
“Tough shit,” I shout.
He doesn’t stop, just keeps moving, and I can’t catch up to him because my leg slows me down, so without giving it any thought, I grab a handful of wet sand and throw it at the back of his head.
He staggers to a halt and whirls around, raking the sand out of his hair.
“The fuck?” he snaps.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Don’t be an asshole and I won’t have to be one either.”
His chest rises and falls rapidly, and I can see his nostrils flaring in the moonlight. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to talk to me.”
“About what? What the fuck would I have to say that will make any of this better?” He sweeps his arms out wide, encompassing the whole island and the shitty situation we’re in.
“You’re the founding member of the talking-about-the-shit-stuff-makes-you-feel-better club. Ever since we met you’ve all been badgering me to talk about my feelings. Well, guess what? I took notes.” I press my lips together and pull in a slow breath through my nose, telling myself to calm down.
“There’s nothing to say,” he grits out through his teeth. “I’m fine.”
“Clearly,” I mutter.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” I widen my eyes. “You’re absolutely your usual self. The grim look is just the island-style smile.”
“Oh! I’m sorry I haven’t made this plane crash more amusing for you.”
One more deep breath. It’s accompanied by a chorus of drips, and then the skies open up above us. In a matter of seconds, we’re drenched by the white wall of water that descends on us.
“The fire!” Adrian shouts as he takes off toward the stretch of beach in front of the life raft.
I run after him. My feet sink into the wet sand, and I can barely see through the water in my eyes. I try to wipe it away while I rush after Adrian, who’s desperately trying to save the fire that’s already been put out by the rain.
“Adrian,” I call over the pounding of the rain.
He doesn’t seem to hear me.
“Adrian!” I grab his shoulder. “We can make a new fire.”
“Not until the sun comes out. There might be a boat out there right now,” he shouts. “We’ll miss them if we don’t have fire!”
“They won’t see anything through this rain!” I yell. “I can barely see you .”
“I need something dry. There might still be embers.”
He starts rummaging around in the fire that’s now been put out. With his bare hands.
I pull him away. “What the hell are you doing?”
I don’t know if I’m more angry or scared now. He’s not acting like himself. If this is some kind of mental breakdown… What the hell do I do? I don’t know what to do!
“Adrian,” I say again, voice filled with desperation.
He sits back on his haunches in the wet sand and clutches his hair. I go down on my knees next to him, and I slowly, carefully reach out until I can clutch his arm.
“Please.” I’m not sure what I’m asking anymore.
Or I am sure.
I need him to come back to me.
I can’t do this without him.
He meets my eyes.
“I need to get you out of here,” he says hoarsely.
“I know. We both want to go home, I know. Believe?—”
“No. I need to get you off this godforsaken island.” He stops me with his hand on my thigh.
“Why do you say it like that?” I don’t understand.
He closes his eyes and opens his mouth. Nothing comes out.
“Adrian,” I say softly, “what do you see in your nightmares?”
He opens his eyes and looks straight at me.
“You die,” he says tonelessly. “Every time I close my eyes… I see you die.”
I breathe out an “Oh.”
“We’re in the water, and you’re stuck. And I can’t get to you. I swim and I swim, but I’m not moving, and the whole time you’re struggling, but I can’t reach you. And then you’re not moving anymore. I wake up, and I don’t know where you are. I panic.”
“I’m right here.”
“I know it doesn’t make sense.” He lets out a wet laugh and wipes the back of his hand over his nose. “I know it’s stupid.”
“It’s not. I would’ve died. You saved me.” I clutch his arm tighter. “It’s not stupid, you’re just scared. I’m scared too.” I look up at the sky and the rain that’s still pelting down on us. “This place fucking sucks!” I yell.
Adrian clutches the back of his neck and drops his head back too. He blows out a breath.
“Zero stars on Yelp,” he says.
“The review I’m gonna write about this island when we get back…”
“Scathing?” he suggests.
“That’s my starting point. I’ll build from there.”
He gives a grim snort of laughter. “Go to bed.”
“Come with me.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not gonna fall asleep anyway. At least one of us should try not to kill their brain cells with insomnia.”
Fuck knows what the right move here is. To push or not to push.
I slide my hand around his and try not to overthink.
“Come with me,” I repeat. “We’ll try something. Okay?”
“Rain has stopped,” he mutters.
I get up, still holding his hand in mine, and tug until he gets up too. He doesn’t fight me. I don’t know if he’s decided to entertain me or is just too tired to protest.
I pull the canopy of the life raft aside and push him gently, so he goes inside.
He lies down, hands on his chest, fingers linked, eyes locked on the ceiling.
I climb in too, but instead of copying him and lying on my back, I…
Well, first, I hesitate.
For a long-ass time.
This is not a smart idea.
This is a bad idea.
I’m going to do it anyway.
I crawl up next to him, but instead of putting at least five inches of space between us like I usually do, I sidle closer until I’m pressed against his side. I try to angle my body so that he won’t feel just how insanely fast my heart is beating.
He’s stiff at first, then his body slowly relaxes against mine.
I haven’t been close to him like this in years.
It used to be normal.
It hasn’t been for a while.
I’m second-guessing myself now, but just as I’m about to move, Adrian takes my arm and pulls it over his chest.
“Shit, you’re cold,” he says in a raspy voice.
“Well, I just had a few bucketfuls of water rain down on me. Deal with it,” I mumble. His fingertips move over the goose bumps on my skin. My heartbeat gets even faster. It’s somewhere in my throat now.
“You’re shivering,” he says.
How am I going to explain that it’s not because of the cold? That I don’t even notice the cold? That cold is irrelevant right now?
“I’m fine,” I say.
“We need to lose the wet clothes.”
My brain screeches to a halt. “What?”
“We have to take off the wet clothes. If either of us gets pneumonia, we’re even more fucked than we already are.”
He’s already wrestled his shirt off by the time he’s done speaking. Somehow, my fingers move to the hem of my own shirt, and I pull it over my head.
The shorts go next, and then we’re both in our underwear.
I hesitated to spoon him when I was wearing my clothes. Sans clothes?
Yeah.
Fuck me, right?
I scramble to lie down before he does. Then the ball is in his court, and he’ll get to decide what to do.
He moves close to me and settles in, bare skin against bare skin.
We don’t say a single word.
Adrian’s breathing turns deep and slow.
I guess it’s my turn to be unable to sleep.