Chapter 12
Ashley
I WASN’T SURE I’D EVER been so weary, so exhausted that I could feel it down to the marrow of my bones. Every limb felt as heavy as lead as I stared up at the darkening night sky, the stars beginning to shimmer and wink in an awe-inspiring array.
The Navy SEAL had fallen asleep almost instantly. In fact, he might have been unconscious before he’d fully rolled onto the blanket. But despite my exhaustion, sleep wouldn’t come.
My entire body was one screaming ball of pain, emotional and physical. I could feel every cut and stone bruise, my head throbbed, and my stomach was painfully empty. My head churned with thoughts and fear and memories from the day I was desperate to leave behind, but that wouldn’t fade. More than that, I felt hopeless. I had no idea how we would get off this island, much less how we would survive long enough to get back to civilization. At least we had fresh water, but there were too many other issues at stake.
The restlessness of my thoughts finally turned into a restlessness in my body that wouldn’t let me stay still anymore. I had to figure out how we were going to survive.
The moon was full and bright and nearly above us now, something for which I was grateful even if it did blot out some of the stars. It was almost as bright as day, the silvery light casting oddly lit shadows. Glancing at the man across from me, I watched him breathe for a few moments. He was so still I could have believed something about the day had been too much, and he’d finally succumbed. But there it was—a slow rise and fall of his chest, followed by another.
The tape around his chest and side, whatever medical grade it was, was still there, hardly eroded by the time we’d spent swimming in the ocean. I could see blood underneath the see-through seal, but not a lot, and the water had taken care of the rest smeared across his skin. I knew nothing about gunshot wounds and had never seen or experienced one in my life. This man obviously had, not just from his scars but because of the off-hand way he’d dealt with it. I’d only seen signs of pain in those first minutes after he’d realized he’d been shot, but since then, he hadn’t even acknowledged it.
Would he feel it more in the morning? Adrenaline was a powerful thing, and we’d been running on it since those first intense moments. But we had no first aid kit, nothing even to replace the dressing, and I knew nothing about first aid beyond putting how to put a band-aid on something. But if he didn’t seem concerned, I shouldn’t be either. Or, maybe instead of asleep, he was unconscious and slipping towards the coma that would take his life.
And then I would be alone.
Pushing that thought forcefully from my mind, I pushed myself up slowly, watching for any signs I might wake the Navy SEAL. But he didn’t stir then, nor when I gathered my feet under me and rose slowly.
My gaze swept the beach and the rest of our surroundings. The moonlight lit the world enough for me to see, but still threw everything into deep shadows, dark enough that I couldn’t quite make out what kind of island this was.
If I couldn’t calm my mind down, I was at least going to do something productive.
The first thing was to fulfill our basic needs. Would we be able to find dry wood to build a fire? Using the boat was out of the question at this point. I could hear insects singing, but was there any other life on the island besides bugs? Anything we could use for food?
The waves washed onto the beach behind me, and I turned to watch them roll in for a moment, foaming and bubbling, before drawing back. At least, if nothing else, we could fish. I could fish, at least. You didn’t grow up in a family of fishermen who owned a fishing company and a restaurant without knowing a thing or two about how to catch a fish. If we swam out a bit, we could probably find seaweed, too. I knew very little about its preparation, but that could have its benefits. Maybe we could figure out something.
But what else did this island have to offer? Even if I had known where we were headed and I knew which island we were on, I didn’t know much more than that, including the latitude. Russia and Japan’s disputed islands had a mix of vegetation. Some islands were low enough that they had four seasons as well as temperate, boreal, and subalpine forests, much like those found in Hokkaido, Japan’s northern island, and the southern-most parts of Russia. Higher islands had only tundra and remained cold and even snowy much of the year.
From the lack of autumn-like chill, we had to be further south. But since it was a small island, it was very likely weather patterns would mean a lack of vegetation, maybe some short grasses and lichen, or wind-swept scrub bush. It had been too dark for it to look like anything more than a large lump rising out of the ocean by the time we’d been close enough to see anything. But I had to look at least—our lives depended on it.
I raised my foot to take a step, but something caused me to hesitate.
The thought of leaving the Navy SEAL was suddenly repugnant. Not because I was worried for his health, but because of everything that had happened over the course of the day.
Had it truly only been a day?
My mind echoed with too many things, the memory of the explosion and the terrorists in black forcing his way in. The sure sense that I would die a painful death with a bullet, or many, lodged somewhere in my body. I could still feel the fear as if I were in that moment, the terror as the SEAL grabbed my hand to run with me through the forest. I’d been so afraid someone was right at our heals, and I would hear a gun go off and feel a pain in my back telling me I’d been shot before I fell and wouldn’t be able to get up again.
The memories and fear were too real, too close, and I was afraid to leave my rescuer’s, my protector’s side. What if it happened again? What if the terrorists found us, found me while I was somewhere else on the island? I certainly didn’t have the fighting skills to fend them off—I had no fighting skills of which to speak.
My agitation, my adrenaline, and my churning mind fought with the fear that would have kept me close. The former finally won out. I’d never been one to stay still, especially when facing a crisis, and I had to move. I would stay close, exploring only places that were within a few yards, certainly close enough that he could hear a disturbance, and where I would only be a few running paces away. Only a scream away.
I traveled across the small beach, my feet sinking into the chilled sand so my footsteps were silent, and walked back towards the waterfall—fresh water might mean vegetation. Clambering up the slippery rocks, I followed the stream that fed the waterfall for only a few yards before coming to a small grove that rose along its banks.
At least, if nothing else, we had shade.
Moving among the trees, I was grateful for the feeling of the bark beneath my hands. The sound of running water filled my ears as I peered up into the foliage, the moss along the bank soft beneath my bare feet.
Then I stopped.
Though difficult to see in the deep shadows, I could just pick out fruit nestled among the leaves. Wandering a step closer to a low branch, I reached up to a nearby fruit, my fingers closing around its rounded shape. The skin felt soft and smooth, and it came easily off the branch when I tugged. I thought I knew the scent, too, and I felt my heart give a leap in my chest.
I took it over to a spot without shadow. The color of the fruit was washed out in the bleached light, but it was familiar.
It was a pear—a Hyoi pear, native to northern Japan and the southern Kuril Islands. The pears were so rare and precious that they only appeared in Japanese grocery stores for a few weeks every year, each wrapped in its own netting and placed delicately into a cardboard nest before being sold for exorbitant prices.