Chapter 10 #2
Lucy lifted her head, meeting his eyes. Then she stooped over the coals again.
This time the flame held, licking around the palm fibers, climbing into the wood’s heart.
Lucy added leaves and twig bundles until the blaze stood proud against the breeze.
White smoke arced across the beach, then climbed above the tree line.
They dragged the torn emergency blanket to the shoreline, silver side up, and anchored it with dark rocks at each corner. From the air, it would be the brightest thing on the island. From the water, the smoke would carry farther than any shout.
They drank the last of their filtered rainwater. Steven offered Lucy the remaining piece of gum; she took it, held it for a moment, then split it in half. He chewed with mock solemnity while she watched the cove.
“Breakfast could be worse,” he said between exaggerated chomps. “The texture is impeccable.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m deducting points for service.”
He shrugged, grinning. “Staff have been incapacitated.”
The sun climbed behind a thinning veil of clouds, turning the sea from steel gray to liquid blue. Every gust sent ringlets of smoke skimming the sand, ghosts of their signal. Lucy felt them in her lungs, sticky and sweet.
Then she heard it: a low tremor, like distant machinery. She held her breath. If she was imagining things, she would drown in disappointment again. But the sound grew—a throaty rumble accompanied by a whup-whup of blades overhead.
“Do you hear that?” Steven whispered. He had stopped chewing, all attention turned south. His bare foot flexed, as if to catch the vibration in the sand. “There are two.”
Lucy stared toward the mouth of the cove. Through the rocks, a gray rescue launch cut bright white water on both sides. Simultaneously, a dark helicopter slid above the island, its spinning rotors thrumming so loudly she felt it through her chest.
She rose. She’d been fooled by hope before. This time she wanted only the certainty of sight. The boat angled in shallow water, two figures bobbing on its stern. From high above, the helicopter cast a shifting shadow that raced over treetops.
Lucy grabbed the emergency blanket and waved it overhead, its torn edge billowing in her hand. Steven rushed to her side, camera ready, and fired the flash toward the launch. The first volley cut through the spray. Then the launch banked, and a voice shouted from its bow.
They had been spotted.
The realization settled in Lucy’s chest like a weight lifted. She kept waving until the vessel grounded itself in the shallows and two crew members slipped into the water.
The third to plunge over the side was Adam.
He hit the surf awkwardly, stumbled on the soft sand beneath the water’s edge, then accelerated toward her. He stillwore yesterday’s shirt, salt-sprayed, over a life vest the color of a traffic cone. Fear had hollowed his face into unfamiliar angles.
She dropped the blanket and ran into the shallow wash. When Adam reached her, he scooped her up like she weighed nothing. His arms were tight around her ribs; one hand cradled the back of her skull. She pressed herself into him, every ounce of exhaustion and relief pouring into his broad chest.
He smelled of diesel, sea salt, and cedar soap they’d discovered in the cabin bathroom—a scent so mundane it made her stomach quiver.
He lowered his head to her hair and released a sound that wasn’t a word.
It reverberated through him and into her.
“Thank God, thank God,” he kept repeating.
He took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply.
For a single breath, Lucy allowed herself to be found.
She buried her face against his damp shoulder, fingers digging into his soaked shirt.
His heartbeat raced—so fast she could feel it under her lips.
Then memory crashed over her: the darkness in the cove, the searchlight slicing through the rain, Karina’s voice ticking off the hour. She pushed away.
Adam’s arms tightened, then slackened as he realized he’d gone too far. He drew back, eyes shining with saltwater. “When did you know?” Lucy asked, words precise and quiet.
He frowned, confusion mixing with relief. “Know what?”
“That I wasn’t on the ship,” she said, voice trembling more than she intended. She gripped his life vest, as though letting go might send her back into the dark. “What time did you realize I was gone?”
Behind them, rescue personnel gathered around Steven, checking his ankle and moving him toward the launch. The helicopter hovered briefly then banked west, its engines drowning out everything except her own heartbeat.
Adam blinked, rain and sea spray clinging to his lashes.
“When we got back I went to grab a bite to eat. I was waiting for you and when you didn’t come, I—I went to our cabin around eight,” he said.
He sounded breathless, as if the run through water had erased his ability to speak.
“Karina said you’d be on the second launch with Steven.
It was supposed to be right after hours, but it had some trouble on the way back and its engines needed a repair.
When it finally came back, I asked where you were.
She said she thought you wanted to be alone. ”
Lucy’s breath hitched. Eight o’clock—nearly five hours had passed before he even noticed she was missing. She held her gaze on him, waiting. Finally, he swallowed. “I thought you were annoyed with me. I didn’t want to bother you.”
A single tear ran down her cheek. The sea washed it away. She pressed her forehead to his once, then let her arms fall. “How could you have left without me?” Her voice cracked on the last word.
He exhaled, then wrapped both arms around her again. They stood in the shallows, water swirling around their ankles, rescue crews buzzing behind them. Lucy let the moment stretch—unwilling to give him the absolution he was looking for.