10. Travis
I roll onto my back and stare up at the sun. Paige is stretched out beside me. Our bodies are drenched in sweat after the quickie. I certainly never planned on having her again, but the moment presented itself and it just seemed right. And it was a good way to pass the time.
“This is not the sandy beach I had in mind when I took this job,” I say.
“Me either.”
“It’s certainly private, though,” I joke. “I wouldn’t mind the privacy if there was someone bringing me fruity drinks.”
“No kidding. I could really use a drink right now. I’m surprised you didn’t raid the bar when you were diving on the jet.”
“If I had the time, I would have.”
“Alcohol would have just dehydrated us more,” she sighs.
“You keep doing that to my body and I’m never going to get hydrated,” I tease her.
She slaps my chest. “Not funny.”
“Were you planning on some beach time?” I ask her.
“No.”
“No?” I sit up.
“I was going to Hawaii to work, not lounge on a beach.”
“You were seriously going to work twenty-four hours?”
“If that’s what it took,” she says and sits up, pulling her bra on.
“You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
“One of who?” she asks with a sigh.
“One of those workaholics that is set on climbing the career ladder.”
She frowns at me. “You make that sound like a bad thing.”
“I think I know why you were a born-again virgin,” I say, enjoying teasing her.
“If you call me uptight or an ice queen, I swear I will drown you.”
I chuckle and pull on my pants. “You’re definitely not an ice queen. I’ve felt just how hot you are.”
“Now, you’re just being crass.”
“I think I’m going to try and follow the shoreline and see if I can find a freshwater source,” I say.
“Uh, you are not leaving me here alone.”
We start walking, having to go into the water on occasion to get around large rocks that are too slippery to climb. “You know this would be easier if you weren’t wearing a tight skirt.”
“No shit,” she mutters. “But someone left my luggage on the plane.”
“Paige, it’s just you and me out here and I’ve already seen everything you have to offer,” I remind her. “You can wear my underwear if that makes you feel more covered.”
“I’m not wearing your underwear,” she scoffs.
“Then wear yours.”
“I’m not traipsing around in my panties. What if rescue comes? I don’t want them to think—”
I shake my head. “You don’t want them to think Princess Paige would lower her standards to have sex with the lowly pilot.”
“That is not what I said.”
“But it’s what you were thinking,” I say.
“No, it wasn’t. I was just, well, how would it look?”
“It would look like we survived a plane crash, and all our clothes were washed out to sea. And if someone wonders if we had sex, big deal. You need to quit worrying about what people think about you. I know your type.”
“Oh, now you’re going to psychoanalyze me.”
“The shoes. The clothes. The designer sunglasses. You care what people see. You have constructed an image you want the world to see, and you make sure that’s all anyone sees. You don’t want anyone to know you’re a normal woman that can be vulnerable at times. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. Your secret identity is safe with me.”
“Whatever you say, Dr. Phil.”
Our search of the island is short. It’s what I expected. The island is less than two acres and most of it is rock. Our camp is on the only sandy section on the whole island. We sit down and neither of us talks. We’ve spent the day waiting and nothing has happened. Rescue does not appear to be in the cards.
I pull over the bag and pull out a few options. “What do you want for dinner?” I ask, trying to keep things light.
“How long?” she asks quietly.
“How long for what?”
She looks at me and I can see the fear in her eyes. “How long can we survive once we run out of food and water?”
Lying to her isn’t going to do her any good. “The water is what concerns me.”
“How long, Travis?”
“A couple of days.”
I see the tears well up in her eyes. She nods, swallowing hard as she picks up a bag of chips. “Okay.”
“Hey,” I say softly, touching her hand. “It’s going to rain. We’re in the middle of the ocean. It rains all the time. Every time it rains, we get to live a little longer.”
“And how long can we survive on peanuts?” she says with resignation.
“A few weeks. We can fish.”
She rolls her eyes. I understand how ridiculous that sounds. “Are you going to use your underwear for that too?”
I grin. “Not a terrible idea.”
Night falls once again, casting a blanket of darkness over the island. Paige is lying on her side, the glow of the fire washing over her sleeping features. I lie awake, my mind racing with worry. We don”t have enough water to last more than another day. It’s warm in the day and we’re going to be dehydrated in no time. I honestly don’t know if it will rain. The clouds seem to come and go without giving us the precious water we need. I don”t want to tell Paige. I have a feeling she”ll freak out, and the last thing we need right now is panic.
I stretch out behind her, pulling her body against mine. I”m not used to this, to feeling so helpless and vulnerable. I’m stranded on a deserted island with a woman I barely know, facing an uncertain future with nothing but our wits and determination to guide us. I feel a connection to her, like I have to protect her. She’s counting on me. While I know the crash isn’t really my fault, I can’t help but feel responsible.
My eyes close and I let sleep claim me. Tomorrow, I must find a way to get water. If I have to swim out to the jet, I will. I’m not going to let her die. There must be a way.
In the morning, I wake to find Paige staring at me. ”Morning,” I say, my voice strained but steady. “Is everything okay?”
“It didn’t rain.”
“I know,” I nod.
“We’ve got one bottle of water. What are we going to do?”
I didn’t know how to answer that question. “I don’t know.”
She nods and takes a deep breath. “Okay. Well, I guess there’s no point in worrying about the inevitable.”
“Hey, there’s still a chance we get rescued today.”
She offers a soft smile. “Sure.”
She doesn’t believe it. I’m not sure I believe it.
“We should stay out of the sun,” I tell her.
She leans her head on my shoulder. “Do you know what I’ve been thinking about?”
“No.”
“My funeral.”
“Hey, no,” I say and wrap my arms around her shoulders. “You can’t think like that.”
“But I do. I don’t have any friends. My parents won’t even know I’m missing unless my firm calls them. HR has them as my emergency contact. They’ll hire someone to plan my funeral. If they have it in New York—”
“Is that where you’re from?”
“It’s where I’m from originally, but I’ve been in Seattle about five years. I don’t have friends. I have acquaintances and they’d come to my funeral, but probably not. They’re all busy.”
I wasn’t sure how to assure her.
“What about you?” she asks. “Who’ll be at your funeral?”
The question catches me off guard. “I have a buddy I used to work with. He’d probably go.”
“That’s it?” she presses. “What about your family?”
“I don’t have any. Not anymore.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s life,” I shrug. “I might have a few other pilots that would show up.”
“What about the woman at the airport?” she asks. “The one that clearly has a thing for you.”
I chuckle. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“Don’t be cocky.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend if that’s what you’re asking. My line of work makes relationships very difficult.”
“How did you get to be a private pilot?”
I hesitate, unsure of how much to reveal. ”I worked for Delta for a couple of years,” I admit. “I decided to go private. I like having control over my schedule and there’s a lot less bureaucracy.”
She nods, her expression thoughtful. ”You seem young to be a pilot,” she observes.
“I am, but that doesn’t make me any less qualified.”
“Oh, touch, touchy,” she teases.
As we talk, a noise interrupts our conversation, a distant rumble that echoes across the island.
“What’s that?” she asks.
I jump to my feet, my heart pounding in my chest as I scan the horizon for the source of the noise. I’m on the move, making my way to the shoreline with my eyes on the sky.
”It”s a plane,” I breathe, my voice filled with hope. “I need the orange box!” I shout.
Paige runs towards me, her eyes wild as she shoves the box at me. “It’s a plane!”
I grab the box and quickly open it. My hands are shaking. I know I’ve got exactly one shot. They’re going to assume we’re dead. They’re not going to waste resources searching for a plane that’s on the ocean floor.
“Hurry!” Paige slaps my arm.
I pull the flare gun and take my shot. I hold my breath and reach for Paige’s hand. The flare arches into the sky with a fiery trail. It soars higher and higher. We both watch it climb, with her hand squeezing mind. My heart is pounding with a strange mix of fear and hope. If the pilot doesn’t see it, I know we’re going to die. A moment later, the flare explodes in a brilliant burst of light.
The plane above circles a couple of times and then drops in altitude. Paige and I both scream and wave our arms like maniacs. I watch the plane rock and back and forth, like the wings are waving to us. I know the signal.
”They saw us,” I tell Paige, my voice filled with relief. ”Help will be on the way.”
“How do you know?” she asks.
The plane turns and flies away from the island. She grabs my arm. “They’re leaving! Where are they going?”
“They’ll send help,” I assure her, feeling relieved.
“How do you know?”
“That move, rocking back and forth, that’s the signal. They saw us. We’re going to be okay. They’ll report back and if it’s not a helicopter, they’ll send a boat.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” I nod. “It was a spotter plane. They couldn’t have landed.”
We collapse onto the sand, our bodies drenched in sweat and adrenaline. Paige”s breathing is still ragged, fear still visible in her eyes.
”They”re going to send help,” I repeat, trying to calm her nerves. ”You just have to trust me.”
She looks at me, her eyes pleading. ”Do you think we”ll make it?”
”Absolutely. They’ll be here in an hour, two or three tops.”
“I’m trusting you, Travis. If you’re getting my hopes up for nothing, I’m going to be pissed.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you. I’ll go grab our things. You stay here.”
She looks at me. “Where am I going to go?”
I lean over and give her a quick kiss. I go back to our camp, kicking sand over our little fire ring and grabbing her purse and my bag. I know the plane saw us, but I’m just not sure how long it will take for them to get back to us. I pray it’s before tonight.
I sit down beside her on the beach and hand her the last bottle of water and one of the bags of peanuts. “Let’s celebrate.”
“Should we?” she asks. “What if they don’t come back?”
“They’re coming back.”