6. Travis
I stare at the wreckage of the Learjet, half submerged in the water, disbelief coursing through my veins like a current. We survived. Against all odds, we survived. But the shock of our near-death experience still reverberates through me, leaving me shaken to the core. My heart rate started to slow as the adrenaline subsided. My head hurts. I feel some aches and pains, but nothing is broken.
Crashing had not been part of my plans. I had expected a routine flight, a smooth descent onto the tarmac of Honolulu International Airport. But fate had other ideas. In all the thousands of hours of flight time, never had I experienced anything like that. I still couldn’t fathom what happened. The jet was in perfect condition. I trusted the maintenance crew at the hangar. There was no rhyme or reason for me to lose both engines.
I turn to Paige, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts and questions. My eyes focus on the jet, noticing it’s slowly disappearing into the ocean. We must have landed on an underwater outcropping. I have no idea where we are. The instruments weren’t reading the last five minutes we were in the air, not that it mattered. Rescue isn’t happening in the next few hours or even the next couple of days. We need some basic supplies to survive.
”Stay put,” I tell her firmly. ”I”ll be right back.”
“What! Where are you going?” Paige follows me to the edge of the water.
I didn’t waste precious time trying to explain what I’m doing. I kick off my shoes and peel off my shirt. I wade back into the water, the icy chill of the ocean hitting my skin. I dive under with Paige still shrieking on the beach. I avoid the current that caught us on our way in. I swim alongside it, remembering the lessons I learned during my short stint as a lifeguard in San Diego a million years ago.
I reach the partially submerged jet and take a minute to fill my lungs with air. Then I dive under. The water is remarkably clear. The water burns my eyes for a second, but I can see just enough. I see my bag first and am so thankful I packed light and didn’t bring a suitcase. I put the strap over my neck and reach for her suitcase. Of course it’s stuck. I’m running out of air and must resurface.
Paige”s voice pierces through the crashing waves, calling out my name in desperation as I resurface for air. I take a deep breath and dive back down, pulling with all my strength until the suitcase comes loose. With my lungs burning for oxygen, I kick off the side of the jet and propel myself upward, breaking through the surface just in time.
I can’t make it with both bags. She’s going to be pissed, but her suitcase isn’t a priority. Neither is mine. I toss them onto the exposed part of the jet and take another breath, diving back under. I find the orange box with the First Aid kit and flares. Food and water are what I need. I take the box up and grab my bag from the fuselage. I can feel my energy fading fast. The swim back to shore is going to be brutal. I pull my clothes out of the bag, letting them drift away in the waves. I need the space in the bag. With one last breath, I dive back in and swim to the pantry area. I pull out as much as I can, shoving it into the bag along with several bottles of water. I can feel myself getting dizzy and know I’m pushing it. My lungs feel as if they are going to explode.
I swim out of the fuselage and take a few seconds to catch my breath. I stuff the orange box into my bag and zip it, securing our meager supplies. I look at the shore, seeing a spot that appeared to be a little closer than the point I went into the water. Even though it was closer, it was so far. My body felt weak, and my lungs were still burning. But I must go.
I swim back to shore with my bag draped over me. If I get caught in the current, I know it’s over. I don’t have the strength to fight it.
“You idiot!” Paige shouts, walking into the water. She grabs me by the arm and starts to drag me back to shore. I crawl onto the sand littered with painful little pebbles before collapsing. I was breathing heavily and shivering from the icy water.
”You”re insane,” Paige mutters between breaths.
I don’t have the strength to argue. I feel as weak as a newborn foal. I close my eyes and feel the darkness wash over me.
“Hey!” I feel someone shaking me. “Don’t you dare die on me! You are not leaving me alone on this island!”
I open my eyes just as she shoves me again. “Knock it off,” I mutter.
She leans down, her face inches from mine. “Are you okay?” she asks. Her voice holds a hint of concern.
“I’m okay.”
She shoves me again, slapping my shoulder. “What were you doing?”
“I got some water and food,” I tell her and roll to my back.
The sun warms my chilled skin.
Paige stands over me, blocking the sun. Her hands are on her hips and her mouth is set in a tight line with her lips pursed together. I can see the anger flashing in her eyes, her expression a mask of fury and frustration. ”What the hell happened, Travis?” she demands.
I sit up, wondering if she has a concussion. “We crashed, Paige. Did you hit your head? Did something fall on you.”
“Yes! No! That’s not what I mean. Why did we crash? What did you do?”
I feel a surge of anger rising within me at the implication, but I push it aside, knowing that now is not the time for petty arguments. ”It wasn”t my fault,” I tell her firmly, my voice calm but tinged with frustration. ”Something happened to the plane. It wasn”t functioning properly. We lost power. The engines failed. I don’t know.”
Paige scoffs, her lip curling in disdain. ”Typical. This is what happens when you trust a crappy, cheap company to get you where you need to go.”
I resist the urge to argue, knowing that it won”t do us any good in our current situation. Instead, I give her a pass. She’s scared.
“Paige, I understand you’re freaking out. We can’t panic. It helps nothing.”
“Of course, I can panic! We crashed on an island. Where are we? Is someone coming to save us? What’s happening!”
I see her panic and remind myself I have to stay extra calm. “Let me get you some water,” I tell her. “Take a deep breath.”
”We need to figure out where we are and how we”re going to get off this island,” Paige continues, her tone brimming with impatience. ”Do you have any idea when help will arrive? I have a meeting to get to.”
I shake my head, feeling a pang of frustration at my own ignorance. ”I don”t know,” I admit, my voice tinged with regret. ”But we”ll figure it out. We”ll make it through this, Paige. I promise.”
“Don’t say that! You don’t know!” Her wailing is grating on my nerves. I have a headache. I can’t think straight. She keeps going, bitching about a meeting and her missing shoes. On and on.
”Shut up!” The words burst out of me before I can stop them, a desperate plea born from frustration and exhaustion. Shrieking solves nothing, and in our current predicament, it only serves to exacerbate the tension between us. I’m not exactly in the best shape myself.
Paige recoils as if I”ve slapped her, her eyes blazing with fury. ”Excuse me?” she snaps, her voice dripping with venom. ”Who do you think you are, telling me to shut up?”
I grit my teeth, struggling to keep my own temper in check. ”I”m the one trying to keep us alive,” I retort, my voice low but firm. ”And your incessant yelling isn”t helping anyone. I can’t think when you’re screaming at me. I didn’t crash the plane. You’re damn lucky I’m as good as I am, or your ass would be sitting on the bottom of the ocean.”
She opens her mouth to fire back another retort, but I cut her off with a sharp gesture. ”Enough,” I say, my tone leaving no room for argument. ”We need to focus on getting off this island, not wasting our energy on pointless arguments.”
With a huff of frustration, Paige turns away, her shoulders tense with anger. But I saw the fear lurking beneath the surface, the same fear that gnaws at my own insides. I am fully aware how dire our situation is. I wasn’t exactly planning to die. I wasn’t ready for it.
I watch as Paige stomps away, snatching up her purse. I watch her, wondering what exactly she thinks she’s going to do. She pulls out her cell phone and lifts it in the air, turning around in circles as she tries to get a signal. I can”t help but find it comical, given our remote location in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
”Good luck with that,” I mutter, unable to suppress a bitter chuckle. ”We”re in the middle of nowhere.”
Her response is a scathing glare, but I can see the uncertainty lurking in her eyes. We”re both out of our depth here, grappling with a situation neither of us could have prepared for.
“It doesn’t hurt to try!” She says and walks away.
“I’m just thinking our time might be better served doing something productive,” I tell her as calmly as I can. “This isn’t solving anything.”
“Go away,” she snaps and continues to try and get a signal.
I understand she’s in shock. Even if we could get a signal, her phone had gone for a swim. If it turned on at all, that was great, but I couldn’t imagine it was going to be functional.
I can feel my frustration mounting with every passing second. Paige”s anger gives way to tears, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. She drops her phone in the sand.
For a moment, I”m taken aback, caught off guard by the raw vulnerability on display. Her icy demeanor and sharp tongue put me on edge. She’s not exactly been kind. But in this moment of crisis, I see her for what she truly is—a scared, vulnerable woman grappling with the same fear and uncertainty as I am.
Without thinking, I reach out and pull her into my arms, a gesture born more out of instinct than anything else. She fights against it at first, her body rigid with tension. But slowly, she begins to relax, her sobs subsiding into quiet sniffles.
We may not like each other, but in this moment of shared vulnerability, we find a strange kind of solace in each other”s embrace. We”ve survived a crash that should have killed us both, and in the aftermath, our differences seem insignificant.
We clung to each other on the desolate beach. If I was being honest, I needed the hug just as much as she did.
Eventually, Paige pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting mine with a newfound sense of understanding. ”I”m sorry,” she whispered, her voice tinged with guilt.”