Chapter 16
MISSY
I place my backpack at my feet as I stand inside the airplane’s galley, untwisting the cap of my aluminum water bottle and filling it from the water spout.
Slowly, I blink my eyes, trying to bring my brain up to speed after dozing off on Colton’s lap, when I hear someone yelling.
I peer out of the narrow galley and look down the row of bunk beds.
Only Silver occupies a bed, and she’s fast asleep.
It definitely wasn’t her shouting. So who?
I step farther out of the galley, trying to pinpoint who’d made the noise, when Tearjerker rounds the back of the plane and bulldozes right into me. His breaths are frantic, and his eyes are full of worry.
“What? What is it?” I ask, holding onto Tearjerker’s shoulder as he doubles over, trying to catch his breath. A sense of panic rises inside me as I watch him panting and wordless.
“Maria.” He swallows in a gulp of air, giving my mind just enough time to fill with a dozen worst-case scenarios.
“Maria, what? What’s wrong with Maria?” I beg.
“She … She got hurt.”
“How? Where?” Imagining Maria in pain sends an emotional shock wave through my system. My sleepiness is suddenly replaced by an unsettling fear. My grip tightens on Tearjerker’s shoulder. “Where is she?”
“Tide pools … the place Maria was talking about yesterday.” He straightens, but his chest rises and falls sharply.
“Bill and Maria took me with them to the tide pools tonight, and while we were there, Maria slipped on the rocks. She’s bleeding.
” He holds up his burnt and bandaged hand, as if this will explain everything.
“I couldn’t help Bill carry her with my hand.
So I … took a shortcut through the jungle … to get more help.”
“Show me where she is,” I say, desperate to aid my friend.
Tearjerker nods, sucks in one more breath of air, and spins on his heels, taking off. I don’t waste a second. Letting fear for Maria’s health fuel me, I sprint after Tearjerker, rounding the back of the plane and running onto one of the many jungle paths on the island.
Tearjerker and I fall into a clipped pace.
Our feet hit the jungle floor in tandem as I follow directly behind him.
Several minutes later, my lungs are breathless and burning, and I am increasingly surprised by Tearjerker’s athletic prowess.
He’s gone from completely winded at the plane to an endurance runner in very little time.
I suck in a quick gulp of air and increase the length of my stride just to keep up with Tearjerker.
Ghostly leaves smack against the skin of my exposed legs as we start a hasty upward climb.
I take that moment to scan my surroundings.
I can hardly tell one tree from another, let alone which path we are on now.
Tearjerker has taken several unfamiliar turns, and I’m not sure where we are.
I see the shadowy outline of Tearjerker’s head turn back to look at me.
Then, he increases his pace, oblivious to the fact that if he could see my heated face, he’d know I’d reached my max speed a quarter mile back.
As the distance between us stretches, my eyes are opened to just how dark our surroundings are.
There is no color, no light. Not even the stars and their otherworldly glow can be seen through the leafy canopy above us.
I feel cut off. Claustrophobic in the darkness around me.
But then I picture Maria and run harder, following the faintest sound of Tearjerker’s tread and his silhouette several lengths ahead of me.
“How much farther?” I wheeze.
He looks over his shoulder just as he reaches the base of a small hill. “Not long.”
It’s then that I feel pressure on my big toe. A root stops me mid-stride, and I fall onto my hands and knees. A rough patch of dirt scrapes the palms of my hands as I protect my face from colliding with the ground. “Tearjerker, wait.”
But when I look up to make sure he hasn’t left me, I find him stopped at the top of the hill, his body fully facing me. Good. He stopped at least. His silhouette tilts its head slowly, as if deciphering where my body lies among the layers of foliage.
“Sorry.” Tearjerker’s voice is husky and ragged. Wild, almost.
“Sorry?” I whisper.
I don’t get an answer. All I hear is the rustle of leaves as he turns his back to me and runs over the hill, completely disappearing from sight and sound.
“Tearjerker … Tearjerk …” I pop to my feet and run to the top of the hill, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but he’s gone. He’s just … gone.
The jungle, for all its persistent, chaotic noise, feels utterly silent. He’s gone. But Maria. Why would he ask for my help just to abandon me? For the craziest moment, I let my mind circle two very unstable words: What if.
What if Tearjerker had been lying only to bring me out here?
But no, Maria’s fall. He couldn’t make that up.
Just yesterday, Bill and Maria had talked of going to the tide pools again, promising to take Tearjerker.
So why would he lead me here only to leave me?
Unless … he’d wanted to get me away from camp, away from someone or something.
Images of Tearjerker’s proximity to my backpack at breakfast yesterday come to mind.
My backpack? Could he have made up such an elaborate story for my backpack?
But then again, the story wasn’t even elaborate.
He knew I had a soft spot for Maria. Why did I ever think he wouldn’t use that to his advantage?
I step beyond a waist-high bush and look down at the ground, hoping to glimpse the trail, but find that I’m not on one. All this time, I had my eyes trained on Tearjerker while my mind spun with thoughts of Maria in pain. I’d hardly noticed the trail.
I’m so stupid. I shove my face into my hands and mentally curse Tearjerker’s name.
“Ugh,” I grumble. This is exactly the type of situation I’d watch on my TV at home and shout, “DON’T FOLLOW THE BAD GUY!
HE’S PLAYING YOU!” But then again, never in all of my days of watching Sunsets and Sabotage had I seen someone do something as nefarious as this.
Put a lizard in someone’s bed, sure. Literally trip someone just before the finish line, definitely.
But this … I was in uncharted territory in the dead of night in the darkest part of the jungle. Alone.
Alone in the dark. The thought seeps deep into my bones.
Realizing that I’m going to have to forge my own way out of this jungle, I turn around and start retracing my steps back to camp, but after several minutes, every tree and branch looks identical to the next.
I’m lost, with no Tearjerker in sight. It’s the equivalent of being blindfolded, dropped in the middle of the ocean, and told to find your way home.
The rhythmic jungle sounds morph into an eerie hum, sending my heart beating to an unpleasant march while the darkness engulfs me like an old foe. I look up, seeking the stars. But there’s nothing but a leafy barrier between me and the sky above. Stars. Why are there no stars?
Directly behind my ear, I hear the sharp cry of an animal. A call that’s nearly human. My body flinches, and I immediately step away from the tree nearest me.
“It’s okay, Missy. It’s just a bird,” I tell myself. “Nothing scary here.” Except for flesh-eating snakes, spiders, and darkness.
Another bird from my nightmares calls to me, and I jump away from the sound, but the sudden movement causes my face to slide against the long finger of a bony branch.
I instantly raise my hand to my cheek. My face burns.
I pull my hand away, feeling warm liquid seep between my fingers.
I don’t have to see the color to realize it’s blood.
“You’re okay. You’re okay. You’ll be fine.
You’ve gotten yourself out of worse scrapes than this, Missy.
You’ll be just fine.” I chant this affirmation aloud; all the while, blood spills down my cheek and drips from my chin.
I wipe it away. “You’ll be fine. You know how to figure this out.
” I force the words out of my mouth, but it’s no use.
It’s so dark. So dark, I don’t want to move. My breathing comes in deep and ragged.
Just then, I step backward to reorient myself, and to my horror, there is no ground beneath my foot.
Quickly, my body follows my foot off a craggy ledge, and I tumble nearly six feet.
My back skids forcefully down patches of rough dirt, only for my ankle to slam against a jagged piece of lava rock.
I clutch my ankle on impact, the pain radiating through my leg. Hot tears prick my eyes.
I try to pick myself up, but when I finally get to standing, I crumple back to the ground, my foot unstable and throbbing. There’s no way I’m going to get out of this jungle now.
“No, you’ve got this, Missy. You can do this,” I say weakly, fighting against my internal voice.
But then I realize that my only options are to crawl around in the jungle until I find a way out or to call for help.
I look down at my lapel camera and mic. For all the people that the equipment is reaching at this moment, they can’t help me right now.
Logically, my best bet is to wait for someone to find me, but that could take hours.
And how would anyone find me at the bottom of this gully that’s draped in blackness?
“Help!” I yell. “Help!”
I start to scream, but the screaming morphs in my head, until I’m hearing the memory of another’s screams. Mama’s screams. The phantom sounds thrust me back to a night from years ago.
“Get in your bedroom, Missy Girl, and don’t you come out till I say so,” Mama says.
“Why, Mama?” I ask, terrified by the fear on her face.
The headlight of a motorcycle shines through our broken blinds, lighting up the dimmed inside of our mobile home, before the bike’s motor dies and the light flicks off.
It’s the boyfriend. One of the many boyfriends Mama’s had. But this one, with his blue hair and smoke-filled jacket, I hate the most. The way he looks at me makes me scared. Scared what he could do to me and terrified what he could do to Mama.
Mama shakes my shoulders, bringing my attention back to her. “Missy, go!”
I do as she says and turn toward my room, flipping the switch outside my bedroom door to turn on the light, but Mama instantly shuts it off.
“He can’t know you’re here. Not a word, Missy Girl. Not a word. Ya hear me?”
“But Mama—” My pleas are cut short by the boyfriend’s loud banging on the front door.
“I’m coming,” Mama yells impatiently.
Moments later, I listen from underneath my desk in my bedroom as their words quickly morph from a disagreement to heated anger. I hear the boyfriend’s thudding boots stumble noisily around the tiny living room.
“You’re drunk. I don’t want Missy to come home and find a lazy sack of trash sittin’ on my couch,” Mama says in none too nice a tone.
“What’d you call me?” he says.
“Get out, Jed.”
“Scared your daughter’s gonna come home and find a drunk? That’s funny coming from you. I doubt she even knows what it’s like to have a mama that’s sober,” he says.
“Stop it,” Mama snaps.
My heart pounds in my chest. I wrap my arms around my knees, hoping that somehow the darkness won’t touch me if I disappear into myself. But the darkness consumes me, and my mind comes alive with vibrant horrors of what is beyond my bedroom door.
Then I hear Mama’s scream, followed by another.
“Mama!” In a burst of panic, I flee from under the desk, feeling around for the doorknob, only to realize Mama has locked me inside.
“Mama!” I yell. “Don’t you hurt her.” I kick and scream, tears pouring down my face, hot and thick. The darkness curls around me, strangling me, suffocating me from the outside in with only my greatest nightmare for company. “Mama!”
I fold my arms around my knees, just like I had all those years ago, and sink small into the darkness, my voice hoarse.
I’m unsure if I’ve been calling for help or for Mama all this time.
The weight of the night presses down on me until my muscles shake beneath my skin, and I lie down in the darkness.
Stars. Where are the stars? I think before my eyes close and exhaustion promises a respite from the pain.
“Missy?”
The sound of my name jerks me upward.
“I don’t think that was her,” a voice says.
“It was. I know it.”
“Colton?” My heart triples its speed—his voice a burst of hope. “Colton! I’m down here.”
“Missy!” Colton yells my name with desperation.
I call for him twice more, leading him to me with my voice, until I see a tall familiar form cresting the top of the small cliff.
“Colton.” My voice breaks.
“Missy!” In one swift movement, Colton’s shadowy outline crouches down, stabilizes himself with one arm on the ground, then jumps, landing not too far from me.
“Missy!” His hands pad the darkness, and I stretch out my arms. He grips my hand and sinks to the ground until his face is right in front of mine.
His arms find their way around me, his hand cradling my head against his chest.
I clutch onto his shirt as he envelops me in his warmth.
His presence is like the sunrise breaking through the dark of night.
My body starts to shake with sobs, but Colton doesn’t pull away.
Instead, he lowers his head and kisses my forehead.
I don’t question his motive; I just lean into him, needing him at this moment.
Eventually, he pulls back from our embrace, and his hands make their way down my shoulders and arms. “Are you hurt?”
For some reason, I shake my head. “I don’t think so … maybe just my cheek and my ankle and maybe my back.”
“Just?” He pushes back a strand of blood-soaked hair clinging to my face.
I manage a short watery laugh.
Colton tilts his head upward, and that’s when I notice the second form standing above us on the cliff. I flinch seeing the familiar outline of the figure.
“Tearjerker. Get the medical team. Now,” Colton growls. “And tell the others I’ve got her.”
I hear the sound of shoes pounding the jungle floor as Tearjerker leaves the ridge. The familiar scene reminds me of the way he left me earlier. I shudder at the thought, tears once again appearing.
Colton shifts, carefully moving a sturdy arm behind my back while his other arm scoops beneath my knees. Then he stands, cradling my body. “Shh. I’m here. I’ve got you.” His head leans closer to mine as he carries me through the darkness. “I’ve got you, Missy Jean. I’ve got you.”