Summer by Summer (7 page)

As I tried to relax, something hit Bray in the back, and I felt the impact through both our life jackets. The cascading water pulled us away from it; flashes of whitecaps tumbled then slammed him back into the dark line before us. The rocks. He was being pounded by the rocks.

“Swim,” I yelled through my sea-scalded throat.

He unwound his legs from mine and we both swam hard and fast away from the rocks, but it was no use. Each wave dragged us right back. Exhaustion worked my muscles into Jell-O, and I think we both realized swimming was futile. On the next wave, Bray lunged, one arm hanging on to my life vest. He pulled himself onto the jagged ledge while keeping me from slamming into it. The rain had slowed, and a stream of moonlight hit the rocks so that they looked like dark ice picks jutting out of the water. We’d be shredded if we stayed there.

He got to his feet but stayed bent at the waist, dragging me along the edge just out of reach of the rock shards. I could hear his muffled groans as the sharp stones were no doubt cutting into his flesh. The storm wound down as the rocks became less jagged. When Bray pulled me from the water, I sank into mud. Fear of being dragged back into the water took hold of me and I screamed and jerked free of the muddy sand. A wave hit me and almost buckled my knees. It was hard to walk in the mud. I clung to Bray who snatched me
up completely out of the water. I dangled there in his arms for a moment, hanging on and breathing short, tiny gasps of air. His eyes rolled and his body went limp. But we were on solid ground. Mostly. He dropped and I tried to catch his weight as he fell, but there was no strength to call on. I fell beside him. Waves washed up onto his cheek and I feared the ocean would open its angry mouth and swallow him, so I pulled myself up, grabbed the corner of his life jacket, and began to tug. When he wouldn’t budge, I screamed, got a better grip, and tugged again. Adrenaline must have surged because I was able to drag him, my feet digging into the muddy, sandy ground. The texture made it difficult to get any sort of leverage, but what I lacked in ability, I made up for in sheer determination. Bray had saved my life. Maybe multiple times. No way would I let the sea win this tug of war. And I told it so.

“You can’t have him.” My teeth were gritted so tightly, I thought the back ones might break off. In answer, a huge wave hit us, knocking me off my feet and pulling Bray a few yards back into the abyss. “No,” I screamed, scrambling up again. “You. Can’t. Have. Him.”

He was twenty yards from the waves before I stopped pulling. Exhausted and with water running down my face and neck, I dropped to my knees. And right there, I cried. Because I’d said those words once before in my lifetime and they’d done me no good at all.

Bray

I jerked awake to the sensation of the sun burning my eyelids. The sharp rays caused me to attempt to turn onto my side. Every muscle in my body ached. It was hard to move. I tilted my head up to see why and found Summer half lying on me, her hands clutching my life jacket in a death grip. I moved her hair to see her face, but she
groaned.
She’s hurt.
That single thought snapped me into action. My eyes scanned the immediate area. Rocks on one side, beach on the other. I shook her, hoping she wouldn’t hear the panic in my voice. “Wake up!”

Sand caked the thick brown lashes that hooded her eyes. Her head moved slightly. She blinked several times, frowned, and then there they were, those green seas of calm. “We’re alive?” she croaked through a throat that sounded about like mine felt.

When she leaned up to move from me, a sharp pain hit my side. I winced. She took this as an invitation to throw herself off.

“Did you break something?” she said, and before I could answer, her hands were unbuckling the life jacket and throwing it open. She stared down at my chest, a frown on her face and her green eyes darting across my midsection. The hand she put to her face was caked with dirt and sand. “I don’t know what to do.”

It would be comical, if it wasn’t so bad. I pulled in a breath, poked around until my finger found the exact spot of the pain. “I’ve had cracked ribs before. I’ll survive.” When I went to sit up, she tried to help. I shook my head and did it myself, moving at my own pace. Which was slow.

Once in a seated position, I examined her. Her hair lay in clumps around her face; it was either still wet or so full of sand it couldn’t dry properly. No cuts or bruises on her face. Jacket intact. Legs also caked with mud and dirt, but she had great legs, and let’s face it, nothing could change that.

She smiled. “You’re getting a little color back into your cheeks.”

All over,
I wanted to correct her, but didn’t. We both removed our life vests. “Are you hurt?”

She raised her hands. “Guess not. That was horrifying.”

I nodded, not wanting to burst her bubble, but I didn’t really think the nightmare was over yet. This island was too quiet.

“Do you know where we are?” she asked. She knew I didn’t. I
could see it in her eyes, but she was searching for something, anything to give her a little hope.

“No.”

Her green eyes dropped. “Surely there are people here,” she barely whispered.

“I hope so. Let’s look around.”

Summer

We both took our time standing. Bray had cracked ribs — so he said — but I had to wonder if they were completely broken, from the way he moved with one hand pressed against his ribcage and wincing with every breath. But each time I made eye contact, he painted on a smile or winked. He didn’t want me scared. But I was scared. We’d crashed, the boat had sunk beneath us or drifted off into the abyss somewhere, and now we were lost, standing on a deserted beach, staring into the foliage of an island he didn’t know.

“Hey.” He captured my chin between his thumb and forefinger and raised my head to look at him. “It’s okay. We’re alive.”

His blue eyes had lightened from the dark, intense shade they’d been last night, and his sandy colored hair lay in tiny spikes on his forehead. Like mine, the strands were full of real sand which made his hair look thicker.

“We’re alive,” I echoed. It’s funny how we take life for granted when there’s no threat to it. Since last summer, there’d been plenty of times I’d wished I was dead, just to stop hurting, just to quiet the pain. But I realized it’s easy to think that way until death actually tries to take you. My mind, my flesh, and my spirit didn’t want to die, no matter what my heart said. I wanted to live. And apparently, my body was willing to fight, violently if necessary, to accomplish
it. Blood worked its way through my chest, limbs, and head. Everything hurt, but I was breathing. For the first time in a long time, I thanked God I was alive, and if I was going to live through something like this, I was glad I wasn’t alone.

“Do you think the other boat made it back to the mainland?” I asked Bray.

He stared at the horizon for a few seconds. “Yes. I should have insisted you go with them. It’s my fault you’re here.”

“It’s my fault we went back for the cooler.”

“No, the responsibility to get you back safely was mine. I’m sorry, Summer.”

I shrugged. “No worries. Like you said, we’re alive.” I pivoted and searched the area inland of the beach. Before us, a wall of trees and brush waited. “Looks ominous.”

Bray turned and followed my gaze beyond the sand, beyond the layer of shrubs and bushes to the deeper part of the island. He cupped one hand around his mouth, the other pressed against his ribcage as he yelled, “Hello?”

We waited. Trees and a forested area closed off the view. Who knew what was inside there. He did a 360° turn, examining the lay of the land, and hollered again. I mimicked him, though my voice didn’t carry far. Off to our left were the rocks he’d walked across. Seeing their rough edges made me think of the night before and what he’d done to protect me. I looked down. There were cuts and scrapes between his ankles and knees, but his feet were still in the tennis shoes he’d worn.

My feet were in sneakers too, though the side of one was ripped wide open. “You saved me from the rocks last night.”

“It was a team effort.”

“Thank you, Bray.”

“You’re welcome, Summer.”

I’d noticed him taking deeper breaths, testing the cracked ribs. “How are they?”

“Actually feeling better. Maybe they’re just bruised.”

I wasn’t sure that was the truth, but I wouldn’t call him on it right now. “So, where to first?” We’d sort of already given up on the “yell and be rescued” scenario. By this time, I’d done all the standing on the beach and looking around I could. The sky was hazy gray, otherwise I’d recommend sitting in the shade and waiting.

He pointed to the rocks. “We need to see if the boat is still there. We may be able to salvage some things from it if it didn’t float away. Also, if it’s visible, a search party will be able to see it from the air.” He turned away from me. “Just in case the island is uninhabited.”

I didn’t like the way he said that. It sounded very final — like he’d already determined we were the only people here. But he couldn’t know that.

We climbed onto the slippery rocks as softer waves pelted the land. Where the sea dribbled over the stones, it sounded like a faucet, a lovely stream of running water. My mouth was cotton, throat still scalded from swallowing seawater and screaming the night before. Thirst for water caused me to lick my dry, cracked lips. I slipped on a rock. “How can these things be so slick, yet so jagged?”

Bray led the way. “Be careful — they’ll cut your ankles to pieces if you don’t pay attention to where you’re stepping.”

I inspected his ankles. Yes, that was for sure. After a while, we reached a rock big enough for both of us to stand on. I squinted in the bright sun that had decided to poke through the clouds. The searing reflection bounced off the water and stung my eyes. It took a bit for them to adjust; when they did, I took in the expanse of open water before us. Miles and miles of ocean. The sound of waves lapping against the rocky terrain kept rhythm as we watched the waves roll and ripple. For several minutes, we didn’t speak. Maybe we couldn’t. I felt very small beside the big sea and had to look
behind me at the island to remind myself I stood on solid ground. After a while, the muscles in my legs began to shake and I dropped to a seated position.

Bray walked a few yards away. “Summer, look.” He pointed to a spot at the water’s edge. I couldn’t see it from my vantage point, so I stood and moved toward him.

There, below the water, were the remains of the boat. Just beyond it, dark, dark blue. My heart beat a little faster, as if rescue was only minutes away, but that was silly. The boat was down there and we were up here and it wasn’t seaworthy anyway. “How far down is that?”

“Maybe thirty feet.” Bray was busy examining the area around us, so I tore my gaze from the boat. Not far away I saw a cooler, upside down and caught between two rocks. Bray offered me a hand and together we made our way to it. “Good thing we went back for it, huh?” He grinned.

I nodded and refused the voice in my head that reminded me a cooler was of little good with nothing to put in it. “Bray, over there.” A few feet beyond the cooler, something bright green caught my attention. Bray got to it quickly, sailing over the rocks like a pro. He held up the mask and snorkel.

I nodded, enthusiastic because it felt like we were making progress.

Bray sat down and unlaced his tennis shoes.

“What are you doing?”

He folded the strap back and held the mask to his face to see if it fit him. He’d done the same thing with me when I was doing my dive lesson. Breathing in a bit of air caused the mask to remain attached when he removed his hands. No leaks. The first threads of panic started weaving through my system. I grabbed his arm. It was warm and strong beneath my fingers. “Bray, what are you doing?”

He nodded toward the boat. “I need to go down and see if I can salvage anything from it.”

That’s what I was afraid of. “You said it’s thirty feet down.”

“Maybe. Maybe less.”

The thought of him entering the water and leaving me alone caused my chest to squeeze. My head shook from side to side. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. We need to stay together.”

“Summer, there’s an emergency kit on the boat, there may be water. My throat’s raw from being thirsty. Yours has to be too. We can’t survive without water. And my dive knife is inside one of the compartments. We may need those things if we aren’t rescued right away.”

Not rescued? That was inconceivable. We had an entire island to check out. Surely someone lived here and there would be people searching for us. “Let’s put you in the water as a last resort, ’kay? I mean, the boat’s not going anywhere.”

He stopped. “See that dark water?”

Of course I did; the back of the boat disappeared into it.

“The boat is on a sandbar. The waves could drag it right off the edge at any time. This may be our only chance to salvage anything from it.”

I bit my cracked lip, knowing he had to go. And I knew that his leaving meant I’d be alone. That thought terrified me. “Okay.”

“I promise I’ll be right back.”

And I believed him.

Bray glanced up at the sky. “I’d say I’ve got a good two or three hours before dusk. We must have been asleep half the day. Be back in a sec.”

It was eerily quiet with Bray beneath the surface. I counted the seconds as I watched his strong body, now blurred by the water, dive deeper and deeper. Going farther and farther away from me. I was no stranger to fear, but I couldn’t seem to stop my racing heart as the image of Bray disappeared as he reached the back of the boat. I jumped to my feet, hands covering my mouth as if the scream was
right there, just waiting to come out. Unable to see him, I squeezed my eyes shut and did the only thing with the power to hold me together. I prayed. When I opened my eyes, I could see him again, now at the edge of the boat. He came back up quickly, using the railing as a springboard. When he breached the surface, I released the breath I’d been holding. That was the first
real
prayer I’d prayed in a year. Where anger had once caused me to run away from God, desperation was drawing me to Him.