Page 50 of Hate Wrecked

ROWAN

The days are long. We spend them together.

We fish, gather water, and wash our clothes.

We do all the things we have done before, but now, we touch.

Riley laughs and sings by the fire. We make love in the tent.

We devour each other on the shore. We explore each other under the cool water of the shower.

It’s everything; it’s a dream wrapping around our nightmare.

And then, one day, everything changes.

We decide to venture to Ironhold Island. I want to check on the trunk. I don’t know why, but in the night, as Riley sleeps soundly after an hour wrapped around each other, I feel a tug. A nagging worry. So the next morning, we make our way there.

As Riley and I venture through the trees, I swing my machete, cutting through the entangled vegetation that seems to close in on us. Riley follows closely behind, and when I glance back at her, I see sweat on her brow.

She smiles at me as we forge ahead, though her eyes tell me she, too, feels some sense of dread.

When we reach the bunker, Riley hangs back, walking to the other side of the small island.

I let her, knowing the contents of the trunk and the bunker itself remind her we are stranded here.

And someone else was, too. But they never made it off the islands.

I think of the captain then, and Riley’s aversion to his resting place—this island. She doesn’t want to be near him. I don’t want to be near him. He’s decaying in the ground. Just as the person in the trunk did.

After seeing that everything is in order, I return to Riley.

“How are they?” she asks.

“Dead,” I reply flatly.

“Rowan,” Riley says, her voice laced with sadness.

“I’m sorry.” I reach for her hand and she hugs me close.

As I gaze over Riley’s shoulder, out at the horizon, my thoughts drift to the island's shores—a sanctuary, a peaceful respite from the tumultuous sea beyond. But no respite from what we have seen. What we have found. What we have had to do.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t go in. I hate the bunker. It’s dark, dank, scary. Fuck that place.”

“You didn’t have to come, it’s okay,” I say to her hair.

“Is this place what you imagined?” she asks, pulling away and looking into my eyes.

“Yes,” I laugh, darkly. “I thought I would find something here that would make a man into a monster.”

She shrugs. “I don’t think many men need an excuse to become monsters. It lives in them.”

I kiss her then, hoping she knows I’ll never be a monster—not like the men she knew.

We decide to swim. Leaving Ironhold Island, we head to a small island past Ember Island called Dagger Island. We spend the day in the water. When I decide to fish, Riley waves me off when I ask her to come with me to get our poles. She assures me she will be safe.

I foolishly believe her.

“You’re not coming with me?” I ask, pouting.

“I can’t. I’m a mermaid, Rowan,” she laughs, and her hair, turned more red by the sun, makes her look like a Disney princess.

She has me there. Swimming is her vice. Her healthy vice.

I gather my fishing supplies swiftly. When I return to the island, Riley isn’t in the water where I left her.

I drop everything and race into the green, headed for the other side.

But I’m stopped short by Riley crouching down behind a bush.

I look beyond the jungle edge, past the shore, to the water on the other side.

My blood runs cold at what I see in the West Lagoon—a yacht.

The name Siren’s Wake is emblazoned in red on the side.

She opens her mouth to speak to me, but I place my hand over it. She turns in my grip, her eyes wide and I bring my finger to my lips. When I let go of her, she nods.

I eye the boat from our vantage point. “We don’t know who they are or why they’re here,” I whisper.

“I know. I wasn’t going to make any noise.” Riley looks at the boat, then back at me, nodding.

I see men. I know what men can do.

And these men, they don’t look like the kind that help.

They’re laughing as they row their small boat to shore. In the distance, the Siren’s Wake floats in the lagoon. Our lagoon. I wish then and there that we had remained lost.

“What do you want to do?” she asks.

“There’s no reason for them to see you. I’ll talk to them. I’ll ask them to radio to the mainland that we’re here.”

“Aren’t you worried they’ll do something to you?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m only worried about you. Those do not look like researchers or anyone who is supposed to be here.”

From the trees, we watch the boat docking. A tall man with blonde hair leaps down, making his way onto the shore. Two other men join him, and together, they secure the boat to a tree.

Their voices are loud and excited—a tone of agitation laces the voice of the blond man.

There is no trace of us out in the open where they’ve landed, but just on the other side, there is evidence. From our vantage point, we watch them walk the shore, circling around to the other side. The side where I dropped my fishing pole.

And I see the blond man’s eyes land on it.

He looks at the other men, snapping his fingers.

I crouch down low, pulling Riley with me; my heart thundering in my chest. I don’t have a gun, but I have my body, my training, my skill set.

Three to one. Those are not good odds.

We watch the men canvass the area, their voices growing louder as they walk closer to us. I need to say something, talk with them, and get to them before they find any evidence that there are two of us.

I look at Riley, kissing her forehead before I leave.

When I walk out of the tree line, the blond man sees me first. I offer a wave and make myself look as non-threatening as possible—an act to get what I want.

“Thank God,” I say, my face pulling into a smile. “I thought no one would ever come.”

The other men turn at my voice, walking toward me as well.

“Was that your boat we saw on the north reef?” the blond man asks.

I nod. “Yes. I’ve been here for months.”

“Well damn,” he laughs, shaking his head. “Are you okay...what’s your name?”

I offer my hand when I reach him, and he shakes it. “Rowan Finn. I was aboard the Vanishing Point with a Captain Daniels. He had a heart attack while manning the boat.”

“Is that so?” the man asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I had to bury him on Bunker Island. I’m so glad you’re here. I knew someone would come eventually, but now I can make sure he gets home to his family.”

The other two men join us, and I assess them.

The one to the right of the blond man—who I assume is their leader—has a black eye.

The other has a faded prison tattoo on his left forearm.

The blond man clears his throat. “I can’t imagine how awful that must have been, Mr. Finn.

I’m Butch. This is Chuck, and that’s Domet.

” He motions to them—Chuck with the black eye, Domet with the tattoo.

“I assume you have a way to radio to the mainland?” I ask, crossing my arms. “I don’t think anyone would envy a stay in paradise, but I’m eager to get home to my family,” I say. “The radio on our boat was damaged in the crash.”

The blond man nods. “Absolutely. I’ll radio as soon as we get back on the boat. You can even stay with us. I’m sure staying at the Hilton has merits,” he laughs, and the other men join. “But nothing can beat a warm shower and clean sheets.

I eye their boat. They don’t match it. It doesn’t look like it belongs to them.

They look like men you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley.

They look like men someone wouldn’t want to meet out here.

And the words the Hilton ring in my ears. He’s been here before.

“Thank you. I appreciate it. But I don’t want to put you out. How long are you staying? Maybe I’ll get lucky, and they’ll send a plane to pick me up.”

The blond man looks at his friends. “We aren’t staying long.”

“First time to Elderslie?” I ask.

“No, no. I’ve been here a few times and used to visit Gerald when he was the caretaker. I suppose this is my last hurrah before the government takes over. Those bastards,” he mutters. I’m sure he’s had a run-in or two with them. “You know the family sold this place?”

“Yeah,” I answer. “I thought I’d enjoy a quick trip while it was still possible.”

He raises an eyebrow. “What’s the accent?”

“Scotland. Born and raised,” I say. I guess I haven’t lost it completely.

Butch eyes my fishing pole in the sand. “I see you’ve made yourself at home here. How’s the fishing?”

I take a step toward the pole, picking it up.

“It’s great. I was about to head to the other side.

I always have good luck there. I was just taking a piss.

” I walk along the shore then, away from Riley, around the way the men came.

I see Butch glance into the jungle, but his gaze doesn’t linger there long.

I hope Riley is low, out of sight, but I don’t look back.

My heart hammers in my chest as I walk away. Eventually, the men catch up to me, leaving Riley alone to make her escape back to Falcon Island.

* * *

We move our camp as soon as night falls. I can hear the men on their boat—loud and likely drunk.

Riley is perfectly in sync with me as we head toward Ironhold Island, then to Horizon Isle and the East Lagoon.

We leave behind a blanket and a few things that are unimportant to us.

Something to represent my quarters, should the men check the Hilton.

And they will. The moon is high and bright, illuminating our way.

But there are falls, scrapes, and bruises.

We bring Garfield, and I know it makes Riley feel better.

The furball will have to comfort Riley when I do what I need to do.

I need to get aboard that ship and make sure they’ve spoken to someone on the mainland. My gut tells me they haven’t. If I have to, I’ll throw them in the ocean, and we will get off this atoll on their boat.

I sit with Riley in the tent when the new encampment is set up.

“Do you think they’re looking for that trunk? For the body?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I imagine they will be looking in the water, if that’s what they’re here for. Or the shoreline.”

We are close to the shoreline, always. The atoll stretches for miles.

I can’t let them find Riley, but the island where we’ve set up camp is far from the spot where we discovered the body.

Maybe this will be the last place they check.

Perhaps I can call back to the mainland, and a plane will arrive soon.

There are so many maybes and questions. Riley holds Garfield close, having pinched the back of his neck to carry him on the boat across the water to bring him here with us. The scruffy cat loves her.

“I have to go on that boat,” I say to Riley as we lie close together in the tent.

She turns her head sharply. “Why?”

“To make sure they radio back.”

“I don’t think they will, Rowan. It’s too risky.”

“We have to get home. And if we don’t make it happen soon, they’re either going to leave us here or find the body in the jungle and know we moved it. And then we will never leave.”

“I want to go with you,” Riley declares.

I shake my head. “No. You need to stay here with Garfield.”

“He doesn’t need me. This asshole survived before we arrived.”

“Well, he’s on a new island now. Maybe he?—”

Riley sits up. “Quit making excuses. I want to go with you.”

I sit up, turning toward her, reaching for her. She pulls away. “How can I protect you if you go into danger with me?”

“What happens in the movie when the guy leaves the girl alone?” Riley waves her arm in the direction of the men. “She gets kidnapped.”

“This isn’t a movie.”

“I don’t care. I know it’ll happen. And what if you don’t come back? What happens then? What do you think three men will do to me out here with no one to stop them? What do you think they did to that woman in the trunk before they killed her?”

We both know it’s a woman in the trunk; we never said it. The size of the bones...she was short...slight.

I don’t want Riley to suffer the same fate. I want to protect her. I want to save us.

“You’ll wait in the water nearby,” I whisper.

She nods.

“If I don’t come out in thirty minutes, swim around Falcon and go ashore, then head to the causeway and on to Tinker Island.

If something happens to me, you want them out.

They’ll leave if they think I’m the only one who’s been staying here.

Someone will show up. Someone has to be here soon to start building.

I don’t know why they aren’t here yet, but they will come.

And if something happens to me, you will be rescued. ”

Riley’s eyes are wide, ready to spill over. I have lived a life without her in it; I have walked through that grey world. She can survive me. I can’t survive her. Not again. “I believe you,” she says, wrapping her arms around me.

I won’t lose her now that I have her again.

When she pulls away, I kiss her with everything inside of me. I kiss her with our past, I kiss her for our future.

When I pull away, I press my forehead to hers. “Let’s get some sleep. I bet they sleep in. Sounds like they were having a grand fucking time. I can sneak aboard before dawn.”

We don’t get much sleep. We make love like it’s the last time. Like dawn will be red and ruining.