Chapter 10
Ariana
I can’t move.
My body feels heavy and useless watching Villain wail over Kiara’s body.
The sound tears through the clearing, raw and feral and full of pain, and I don’t know what to do with his grief, or if it’s my place to do anything at all.
But my chest aches in sympathy. I only knew her for a single day, but right now, it feels like it doesn’t matter.
Her death still presses its weight on me.
When his voice finally breaks and falls into silence, I gather my courage.
“We should bury her,” I say softly.
His head snaps toward me, eyes wild and red. His harsh glare stings me.
“Shut the fuck up,” he spits. “Stop acting like you know every fuckin’ thing.”
The words bite, but I don’t flinch. I’m too tired for that. I’m too angry for that.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Villain. I am. But I’m not gonna tiptoe around your feelings. This isn’t the real world. We’re trying to survive, and her body could attract animals. Or vultures. We can’t leave her out in the open.”
The words taste cruel in my mouth. Back home, I’d never let them pass my lips. I’d never reduce a woman’s life to a matter of practicality. But this isn’t home. This is a desperate situation. I give myself permission to be blunt and pragmatic and to protect myself, even if it’s ugly.
Villain’s jaw flexes. “I won’t let you touch her, and you ain’t strong enough to dig a hole. So just sit there and shut the fuck up. Let me grieve.”
Frustration simmers in me until it boils over in hot, salty tears that blur my vision. I turn away before he can see them.
I don’t know how much time passes, but I cry until there are no tears left. I want my mother. I want my sister. I wanna be anywhere but here. Here is gonna be the death of me, I feel it.
When I turn back to Villain, he’s laying Kiara back down, smoothing her hair like she might wake up any minute. Then he stands abruptly and stalks off into the trees.
When he disappears from my sight, my chest caves in. I lean over Kiara and whisper a broken prayer. “God, please…give her rest. Please give her peace.” My sobs punctuate the words, leaving me to cry until exhaustion consumes me.
I lay down in my spot, near delirious with overwhelming emotions. Fear, grief, despair, hopelessness. It all swirls in my mind until I give up and give in to sweet sleep.
Some time later, I wake with the strange sensation that I’m being watched. In a blink, Villain appears, standing over me like a vulture. His eyes look hollow, his face streaked with dirt and dried tears.
“I’m ‘bout to dig a hole,” he says hoarsely. “I might need you to help.”
I nod and push myself up, my leg screaming in protest as I limp after him to a spot near the wreckage.
In his hands is an axe he no doubt grabbed from the plane. He grips it like it’s the only thing tethering him to this earth.
I sit carefully out of reach of the axe.
He digs, swing after swing, hacking at roots, gouging the soil, tossing clumps aside with his bare hands.
It’s not an easy job, I see that plainly.
Sweat runs down his temples, dripping from his jaw.
Eventually, he strips off his shirt, and I feel heat crawl up my neck that isn’t from the sun.
His chest and arms flex with every swing, muscles straining, tattoos slick with sweat.
I didn’t know those were hiding under his clothes.
The ink curls over his shoulder, black lines over brown skin, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans.
I shouldn’t be staring at a grieving man like this, especially not ten feet away from the bodies of his family.
He’s one more tragedy away from a mental breakdown, but God help me, he’s beautiful.
I clear my throat and lift a water bottle, holding it out to him. “Here.”
He takes it without a word, gulps, then pours some over his face before returning to work.
Hours bleed by, at least I think it’s hours.
Time is only marked by the rhythm of his grunts and the thud of the axe.
My stomach caves in on itself, my throat is parched, my lips dry and cracked.
But I hold out. I won’t eat, not until Kiara has a proper place to rest.
Finally, the hole is deep enough, at least according to Villain. He throws the axe to the side and slumps against the dirt wall, chest heaving. I offer to help him carry her, but he shakes his head.
“You can’t do it,” he says. “But even if you could, it should be me.”
I nod as he disappears into the clearing. When he returns, Kiara is in his arms, her small body draped against his chest. He lowers her into the grave like she’s made of glass, his tears dripping into the soil with her.
“Can I say a prayer?” I ask softly, half expecting to get cussed out again.
But he nods.
I bow my head. “Lord, please take her into your arms. We thank you for the light she brought into the world, however short her time may have been. Give her rest from her pain, and surround her with peace and love. Help us remember her not as she died, but as she lived. And help us, the ones left behind, be comforted by her memory and carry forward with strength. Amen.”
My throat burns. I swallow a lump and look up at Villain. “Do you wanna say anything?”
His voice cracks as he barely whispers, “Thank you, Ms. K. I love you.”
Together, we take handfuls of dirt and scatter them over her, then more until Villain climbs out and buries her fully, tamping the mounds of dirt with his hands. After, he stares down at the finished grave with tears streaming down his cheeks.
For a long time, silence settles over us. Then he tips his head back, studying the empty blue sky.
“How does this work? With crash and rescue,” he says, bringing his eyes to mine. “Ain’t there supposed to be…I don’t know, fuck…like a GPS locator or some shit?”
“The black box.”
He stares at me, eyes rimmed in red. “It’s probably burnt up, right?”
“No. They’re built to withstand extreme heat.”
“Then why the fuck…?” he trails off, searching the sky again. “Somebody gotta be on the way. Right?” His voice is desperate and grasping.
I don’t answer. I have no answer to give, really.
Deep down, that gnawing feeling is festering, trying it’s hardest to crawl back to the surface of my consciousness. And that’s this: What if nobody ever comes?