Summer by Summer (18 page)

“It’s different without the fire.” She was sitting on the tarp, staring out over the water. Her hands had stopped shaking. We’d placed the tarp at the foot of the hut steps and were both leaning on the posts — a good spot to make a quick getaway to the jungle beyond if we heard voices or the hum of the motor on their boat.

She was right. The fire was warmth and light and life. At night, it was comfort. The sun was high in the sky, but I wasn’t looking forward to the evening ahead. Right now, we still had things to do to ensure our safety.

“The toolshed I found had quite a few things in it. A lot of tools. even an old radio, but since I’m not the professor on
Gilligan’s Island
, I doubt I can turn it into anything.”

Her eyes widened on me. “Are you thinking we may need the tools as weapons?”

I swallowed. I didn’t want to need them as weapons, but if they
found us, I wouldn’t go down without some kind of fight. “No, Summer. I’m just trying to redirect the conversation. We can drive ourselves mad sitting here thinking they’re coming.”

She pivoted, and the sun caught the highlights in her hair. “But they could be. We watched them murder a man. Just like that, alive one second, dead the next.”

I
really
needed to redirect this. “Do you want to hear about the shed or not?”

This got a smile from Summer.

“There was also a box of paper.”

“Paper?” She caught her hair in a mass at her neckline.

“Yeeeaaah.”

“What will we use it for?”

“Good for insulation, starting fires too. I just thought we’d be able to utilize it.”

“Oh.” She rocked forward, and her index finger slipped into her mouth where she absently nibbled her nail.

“What are you thinking, Summer?”

“Nothing.” She tilted her head. “I used to write. All the time and I haven’t since . . . since . . .”

“I think we could spare some paper for you to write on.”

Her face clouded. “I wouldn’t know what I’d say anymore.”

How about telling how we just watched a guy die
? “Isn’t that the beauty of being a writer? Don’t the words kind of come to life once you start writing them?”

“I guess.”

“There are pencils in one of the drawers in the kitchen. Tomorrow I’ll get a couple and sharpen them with one of the knives. Okay?”

She nodded, and I could see a fresh spark inside her. Good. She needed to be ready for what we had to do. Anything that gave her a little extra hope was good. I reached behind me. “While I was gone, I got this.” The wet leather wallet had a blood stain on the corner.

Summer stared at it for a long time. “You went back to the boat? You promised.”

“The body floated a couple hundred yards down the beach. It followed a curve in the island. I made sure they couldn’t see me.”

All her horror was back, complete with bulging eyes and an open mouth.

“Summer, we had to know who he was so we can tell the authorities. Also, he may have a family. They have a right to know.”

She started to take the wallet, but must have thought better of it. “His name?”

“Jamison Cavanaugh.” As an afterthought, I added. “He was thirty-six.”

We had a moment of silence for Mr. Cavanaugh, both of us staring out at the water and both dreading the long night ahead.

“We should say a few words. You know, have a memorial for him.” Summer’s hand fisted on the tarp between us.

I lay my hand over hers. “I already did. At the water’s edge where I found him. But if it would make you feel better . . .”

She thought about that for a moment. “No. If you did, then it’s fine. Did you . . . bury . . .”

“No. The body had already moved a bit. I just let nature take its course.” I didn’t want Summer to know my main concern had been some animal finding and digging him up. The thought of Summer coming across that on the island — after everything she’d already been through — just seemed unnecessary.

She gave a slight nod.

Now, on to more pressing matters. “We need a bug-out spot.”

“Huh?”

“We need a place to go in case the hut is compromised. And I, uh, think I may have found one. But . . .”

Big eyes waited, the green in them filling with concern. She knew my tone, instinctively knew she wasn’t going to like this.

“It’s a cave.”

A shudder worked its way over her upper body. “I don’t like caves. I don’t like anything that’s all enclosed and tight.”

My arm slipped around her shoulders. “I know. It’ll only be used in an emergency if the people on the boat find out we’re on the island.”

Her hands came together, fingernails clicking against one another. She did that whenever she was scared.

“We can take some supplies to stash there.”

Her breaths were coming quicker until they were only short little gasps.

“I’ll go myself and get it stocked. You can stay here.”

Eyes full of fury or determination — maybe a bit of both — glared at me. “No. I’ll go with you. I don’t think I could stand sitting alone much more.”

“Okay.” I didn’t dare argue. Besides, she needed to know where the cave was. Also, we needed to figure out the best path to it. Since it was halfway up a mountain on the west side of the island, it wouldn’t be easy to get to. And the more difficult to get to, the safer it would be from the men on the boat.

We packed up a few provisions — enough for a day or two — and headed to the west end of the island. I brought the rope we’d retrieved from our boat before the ocean claimed it and hung it over my shoulder, hoping and praying we wouldn’t have to use it to get to the cave. Careful not to leave footprints on the beach, we walked just inside the canopy surrounding the shore until we came to the first outcropping of rocks. “Okay, from here on, we need to be careful. The rocks are slick, and we have to climb pretty far up to reach the cave.”

“Did you go up there already?”

“Only halfway. I spotted it from below. The rocks block the view of where the boat sits, but we need to be careful. I think we’d hear
the motor if they move closer, but we need to really pay attention, okay?”

Summer stayed quiet, following my steps as we climbed. The day was hot and muggy, with the heavy scent of mold hanging in the island trees. I supposed the rocks created a barrier for the west side, never allowing the moisture to dry completely. The heat was stifling but neither of us complained. Climbing would take us a while, but eventually we’d be above the line of shrubs and brush that anchored this part of the island. I stopped at the foot of the blue-black mountain we’d have to climb; it jutted into the sky and made me realize what a miracle it was that I’d spotted the indention of the cave from the ground below.

“Doing okay?”

“Could use a drink.” Summer carried the lidded plastic container — the kind you’d see in restaurant kitchens usually filled with nonspecific foods like coleslaw. I carried everything else we needed to keep us alive if we had to hole up in the cave for a few days. We’d filled her container half full of water so she could manage it easily. Slender fingers gripped and peeled the plastic lid open. A half coconut shell floated on the water’s surface. She scooped it up and offered me the first drink. I drained the shell and handed it back to her. She did the same, letting a bit of it dribble down her neck and disappear into rim of her gray T-shirt.

The mountain loomed above us. I worked to figure out the best way to navigate the rise.

“How’d you find the cave?” Summer said, breaking the silence.

“Half luck. Half searching.”

“It wasn’t luck.”

I looked over to find a hint of a smile and a spark in her light green eyes. I mocked a frown. “Have you been praying again?”

“Guilty.”

“Could you hurry up and pray for a rescue boat?”

Summer sighed. “I have been. But . . .”

“But God’s awful busy?”

“No. I mean, sure, I imagine He is, but we’re going to be rescued, Bray. In my heart, I know that. But sometimes I think God doesn’t rush in so quickly because maybe there’s something we need to take away from the experience. Does that make any sense?”

“Maybe.” I wasn’t sure. We were in a horrible situation. Summer claimed God didn’t put us in it, but if He had the power to get us out, why didn’t He? I’d always wondered how people could have faith in bad situations. “I guess you could maintain your faith if you knew at the right time God was going to get you out.”

“Exactly.” She smiled. She stared up at the black rock. “Now give me my mountain. I’m able to handle it.”

“No fear of heights?” I was remembering her hesitation to climb the Mayan ruins.

“Yes, the fear is there, but our answer is on the other side of it. If I really believe God is going to get us out of this, then I’m not going to die on this mountain.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She looked over at me. “When did you see the cave?”

“After I retrieved the wallet, I decided we needed a place to go if . . . you know . . . if the boat men figured out we were here. So instead of using the island interior to get to the beach where camp was, I started climbing over the rocks. The cave is pretty shrouded from the beach, but it sits high enough we wouldn’t want to build a fire there or anything. It’s not going to be easy to get to. And I’m not even sure how far it goes back into the rock, but they’d have to really be searching to find it.”

The vein in Summer’s throat throbbed. She swallowed. “You really think they will find us, don’t you?”

I dropped the pan of provisions and turned to face her. “No. I’m just being extra careful.” She hadn’t seen the guy grab the girl and
kiss her. I had my suspicions about what those two guys would do to Summer if they found her. Me, they’d kill. But her, they’d abuse. I wasn’t willing to take any chances with her life.

She forced a tiny smile.

“Maybe we should just stay at the cave until they’re gone. Not go back to the hut at all until they’ve left the island.”

Fear entered her eyes and her voice. “Bray, we can’t. They could be here for days, weeks.”

“Probably not. More than likely, they’ll move on in the next day or two. They killed a man here, Summer. They won’t want to hang around too long, just in case.”

“Can we just wait until we get up there to make any decisions? It might not even be big enough for us.”

I could tell Summer didn’t like enclosed places. I’d watched her voice tighten with fear as she’d talked about Michael being trapped in his car. Maybe this stemmed from that incident. Whatever the reason, she was going to have a difficult time if the cave was as small as I suspected. Smaller meant safer in my opinion. But to Summer, smaller meant more terrifying.

“Ready to climb?”

She nodded, but paused as I started placing palm fronds and brush around the pan. “Aren’t we taking those up?”

I was a little nervous about navigating the mossy, wet rocks. “I’ll come back down and get them. Right now, we don’t need the extra weight. We need a path first. The mountainside will be slick, so promise me you’ll be careful. You might try using the same footholds and handholds that I do.”

She nodded, clustered her hair at her nape and tucked it into the neckline of her shirt. Since one of her shoes had come untied, I knelt to tie it. “Going to double knot these. I already did mine. Are they snug on your feet?”

Toes wiggled inside her shoes. “Yes.”

I rewrapped the rope into smooth loops and placed a couple of slip knots near the ends. After that, I rested it on my shoulder. “Let’s go.”

The first section was easy to climb, though slippery. I figured the condensation on the rocks would lessen as we rose higher. At the lower quarter of the climb, the rocks were moss-covered. I reached a flat spot large enough for both of us and sat down. Over the edge, I reached for Summer. So far, she’d kept up well, but I could see the exhaustion in her face, sweat sliding down her cheeks and onto her neck. The sheen on her skin caught the sunlight, and I wished I’d brought the water bucket with us. With a grunt, she was on the narrow ridge with me, our legs dangling off the side. She dropped her head back to rest on the mountain. In front of us, we could see nothing but rock as if we were cocooned in a jagged, stone womb.

“My legs are twitching.”

“Mine too,” I agreed. “Maybe I should climb back down and get the water.”

Summer tilted back to look far above us, one eye closing as she squinted from the sun’s glare. “No. Let’s just get to the cave, and then we can come down for things.” I knew she was anxious to find out what our bug-out destination would offer: a sprawling room or a tiny crevice. I assumed we could fit inside easily, but who knew?

She stood and offered a hand. “Ready?”

We soldiered on until I could see the opening. “Summer, look up.” She’d climbed like a monkey, but I knew it was getting to her. Her gaze trailed above me.

She was plastered against the rock. I looked down. Big mistake. Below her, the jagged spikes seemed to go on forever, like skewers waiting to impale us. It was more than a little creepy.

Summer didn’t notice. She’d locked her gaze on the cave opening then dropped her head forward, resting against the sun-hot rock.

I lay down on the ground at the entrance to the cave and reached my hand over the side. “Here, let me help you from there.” The idea
of her having to navigate that last large step scared me. She clamped her hand around my forearm and I did the same, surprised at how slick she was. I started to pull, but the rocks bearing her weight shifted. I watched pebbles drop from beneath her feet and plummet down, down, down until they cracked at the lower ridge where we’d stopped to rest. My hold tightened, as did Summer’s. She scrambled for a new foothold, but the weight on my arm grew heavier and more intense as her feet faltered.

Her other hand gripped a small protrusion on the rock face, but with her feet dangling, she couldn’t hold on. Her fist began to loosen on the rock. I shifted my weight to get a better hold, the toes of my tennis shoes digging into the ground. My side hadn’t been bothering me, but as I tried to lift, pain shot into my ribs, weakening my strength.

Summer’s hand finally gave way and slipped off the rock. She screamed. The sound echoed, and amplified in my skull. I jerked my arm to drag her up. Pain ripped through my side. My eyes slammed shut as desperation gripped me by the throat. At the base of my slick arm, Summer dangled. Nearly blinded with pain, I called to her. First, screaming her name. Then calmly saying it. I had to get control of the situation. I had to calm her down. “Summer.”