Chapter 30 #2
Nate reaches a fork in the trunk and straddles it, allowing him to take a quick break.
After a few short seconds, he starts moving again.
He reaches for the limb above him, and jumps, swinging his body until he is sitting on top of it.
He crawls to the end, where the limb starts to thin out, and reaches for the branch above him.
He uses it to pull himself up to a standing position and then readies himself to jump.
“Just a small jump, baby. No big deal,” he calls down to me, but the tremble in his voice betrays his nerves.
He bends his knees, crouching low, and then launches himself into the air.
Time seems to freeze as I watch him soar between the trees in slow motion.
The heavy rain lashes against him as he reaches his arms out to the tree in front of him.
He’s not going to make it.
His fingers barely caress the limb he was aiming for before he starts to plummet toward the ground. He reaches for the next branch, but it’s too wet and thin and snaps in his grasp.
“NATE!” I scream in horror, helpless to do anything but watch him fall closer and closer to the ground. The water isn’t deep enough to break his fall. He’s going to hit the ground at full force and then be swept away with the flood.
I can’t watch.
I can’t watch this happen.
But I can’t look away. I need him to know that I’m with him right now. Even if the only way to do that is to be present.
“Please, God,” I whisper as my tears mix with rainwater.
The final limb is within grasp, but it looks small and fragile.
Nate twists his body midair so that his arms stretch out in front of him, like he’s superman, aligning his body so that it is parallel with the ground.
He won’t be able to grab the branch in this position, but he may be able to land on it.
Seconds later, he collides with the lowest bough, causing it to sway up and down from the impact of his weight.
He doesn’t waste a second, he hoists himself up the branch toward the thicker end of the limb and hugs his body to the trunk of the tree.
I can see his rapid breaths from where I am standing.
“Nate! Oh my God. Oh my God. Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay.” I cry out desperately, unable to control my emotions. If he were standing next to me, I would launch myself at him and climb him like a tree.
“See. Told you I could make it. Easy day, Pip,” he teases, his breaths coming out hard and fast. I want to kill him. I want to kiss him and then kill him, and I tell him as much.
He lowers himself to the branch where our basket is hanging. He’s careful not to shake the limb as he crawls toward the end. The rapid water flows beneath him, but the monsoon in the sky begins to downgrade into a normal rainstorm.
“I’m going to toss this basket over to you and then jump over the rapids.”
“Jump over the rapids!? Did we not just see the results of jumping toward danger?” I bellow.
I literally bellow.
Like the roar of a lioness desperate to protect her king.
“This will be much easier. A lot less feet to fall from,” he jokes, trying to ease the tension.
It’s not working.
Before I can even object, he tosses the basket toward me, and I run to catch it. The meat of the coconut is what we are after, but I would be sad to lose the delicious water if it were to crack open.
I don’t even have time to look up from the basket before Nate is crouched on the limb in a jumping position.
I cover my eyes, unable to watch this time.
If Nate doesn’t make it over, I will willingly walk over to those rapids and throw myself in.
I won’t be here without him. Not just here on this island.
Here, in this lifetime. I decided this when I saw him falling to his death only seconds ago.
He’s the only thing for me in this life, and I refuse to live it without him.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that I jolt when my hands are pulled away from my eyes.
Nate.
I leap into his arms, draping myself around him, as I bury my face into the crook of his neck, just breathing him in.
His arms wrap around me as he rubs his hands up and down my back.
The comfort I get from his hands on my body is soul-deep.
Everything feels less…tense. My shoulders relax, muscles no longer contracting. I feel limp in his arms.
This is my favorite place to be.
Now that my adrenaline is crashing, I suddenly feel freezing.
My teeth start to chatter uncontrollably, despite my resistance.
I look at my nails as they caress the back of Nate’s neck.
They have a purplish hue that wasn’t there before.
My core body temperature is dropping, and I am starting to exhibit the manifestations of hypothermia.
I don’t care. I don’t want to move from this spot.
I just want to stay here and breathe him in, feel his arms around me, and feel this peace that only he can give me.
“Baby,” he whispers against my ear, his breath causing a chill to run down my spine. “We need to get you in front of a fire. Okay?”
“Mm,” I say, feeling sleepy. Bone tired. My strength evaporates within seconds. I know this isn’t right. That I need to get up and moving. But I am far too comfortable to try.
“Okay, hang on to that basket, Pip. Up we go.” Nate bends his knees and slides his hands to the back of my thighs. He lifts me up, and I cross my legs behind his back, resting my head on his shoulder as I cradle the basket between our chests.
Nate starts walking toward the rock overhang, careful not to jostle me as he moves around fallen branches and large rain puddles.
After several minutes, maybe hours, I open my eyes and see the cliffs in the close distance.
I lift my lips, smiling a little. I knew Nate would get us here.
I feel positive we will have a fire soon, and this awful bone-deep chill will just go away.
The rocks in front of me are the last thing I see before my vision dims and the blackness takes me under.