Page 10

Patching the Hull

Haley

I race for the dilapidated structure. The exhaustion from the trek over the mountain and through slashing the bamboo vanishes.

Easton’s alive! And for once, I’m going to be positive.

I’m going to push what Calvin just said about Easton out of my head.

Easton has to be okay. He will be okay. I’m not going to allow anything but him being okay.

This isn’t like my mom. This isn’t the John Hopkins cancer ward. I push away the thought, because Easton would be a lot better off if it was. My mom was too. It just wasn’t the outcome we wanted.

The tall surrounding grass scratches at my legs as I push through it.

The hut’s not much more than a mound of dried, crumbling earth.

Rotten wood lies next to the entrance. The roof’s mostly gone, and I duck under a beam that’s jutting out of the wall at an angle.

It’s cooler in here even without the breeze from the ocean.

It takes me a second to spot Easton to the left. I’m relieved and horrified at the same time. He’s lying on a bed of green palm fronds. So pale. A shiver runs through me, and the image of my mom under layers of blankets bombards me.

Easton’s eyes are closed. The little patch of remaining ceiling gives him some shade. His chest is bare, and around his arm is a part of Calvin’s shorts and another fabric I don’t recognize tied to his arm with a vine, and there’s a small clay cup next to him.

“Easton.” I drop to my knees next to him. Cautiously, I touch his leg. He’s warm and clammy.

“Hey.” His eyes open to little slits. “There you are, my Firefly, shining in the middle of the day.”

I press my lips to his forehead. I’m not sure if I should say it now, but I have to. I can’t hold it back. “I love you. I was so worried about you.”

“I love you too.” His eyes open a bit wider. He tilts his head up. “Can I kiss you?”

My hand shakes, and I lean over him with care. His lips are cool, but my heart is soaring. I cut the kiss short.

“Hey, that’s all I get when I’m the wounded one here?” He flashes a quick smile. And I give him another quick kiss. “I suppose that’s enough. I’m calling a rain check, though.”

His head drops back onto the fronds. His eyes are red, but the surrounding skin has a ghostly sheen.

I press a kiss to his forehead, the way my mother used to when she was checking for a fever.

He’s hot but not scarily so. The hair rises on the back of my neck. I’m worried. “I’ll make a note of it.”

“Hmm, I’m going to hold you to it, even though you didn’t write it down in your notebook.”

I hold his hand, but I’m staring at the leaves and vines on his arm.

“I’m not as bad as I look, Haley. Calvin’s been looking at me like he’s trying to figure out how big a hole to dig.

You didn’t happen to bring the first aid kit?

” He pushes up on the elbow of his good arm.

“Tarzan did the best he could. It’s scary how much is tucked away in that huge head of his.

Did you know coconut water has an antiseptic quality to it?

” His voice trails off as he says it. He’s putting on a good front for me.

I shake my head. “Really?”

“I mean, he said so. But then he said that there were no signs of anyone living over here, too. He could just be shitting me to get me to stop moaning.” He drops his head.

“But the vine was pretty smart.” He nods to the green vine around his arm.

“It’s slowed the bleeding a lot, that and the moss.

As ingenious as it is, I’d prefer a nice clean gauze bandage and a shit ton of alcohol for the wound.

” He’s awkwardly propped up with his uninjured arm.

“I’ll go get it. Stay still. Sam had my backpack. We brought the big kit.” I should have grabbed it before I came in.

“Is everyone here? Everyone okay?” He winces, his eyes shutting and slowly opening again.

“Everyone’s fine. We’re all fine.” I’m repeating myself, but then maybe I’ll start to believe it if I say it enough.

“I’ll be right back.” My eyes trail over the rest of the former hut.

Everything has fallen apart or rotted. There’s a small tree growing out of the corner and a smashed sleeping platform.

I take a few small backward steps to the door.

“Okay, hurry, I’m planning to go out for a light jog in a few minutes.” He rests his head on the palm fronds.

I take off my jacket, ball it up and place it under his head. “You’ve still got your sense of humor. I’ll make sure to take the shovel away from Calvin.”

“I appreciate that,” he says, a smile on his lips as he closes his eyes again.

I blink, coming back out into the sun. The series of holes in the side of the building makes my stomach clench.

The walls are thick, old and crumbling, but it’s not hard to figure out how they got there.

This was someone’s home. A family. A large family.

A little village. There are more ruined buildings poking out of the growing palm trees leading in the opposite direction from the orchard.

The guys are a few yards away from the rubble cottage. Dante’s holding Penny on the leash. But even with her on the leash, there are cats poking their heads out from under discarded boards and large clumps of ferns. Most of them are copies of Pepper.

“Can I have the first aid kit?” My backpack’s on the ground between Sam and Dante.

“I’ve got it out already,” Sam says. “I wanted to give you a minute with him. I’ll be right in. We’ll need to stitch him up. After we get the bullet wound cleaned out.”

“Where’s Calvin and Zane?” I’m relieved Calvin’s not injured, but at the same time there’s a growing anger in my gut.

I’m going to examine it later when Easton’s feeling better.

How could he not have told us about this village?

How long did he think he could keep us from coming over here?

Well, I guess a long time, since we’ve been here five months and no one but him has stepped foot near it.

“They’ve gone to refill the water bottles.

” Dante’s holding on tightly to Penny’s leash.

Her head spins in all directions at once.

Dante drops to a crouch. “They’re just cats, Penny.

Like Pepper. Pepper’s clan. I’m sure her mom and dad are here somewhere.

” It doesn’t settle Penny. Dante scratches her behind her ears.

“I’ll keep Penny out here. No need to add to the chaos. ”

“Which way is the stream?” I ask, looking around.

Dante points away from where we came out of the old orchard. “They’ll be back soon, Sassy.”

I nod. “I’m not squeamish, but I’ve never done stitches before. Have you?”

“For a gunshot wound, no. But I’ve taped the hell out of my hands back in my day charter fishing days. And taken hooks out of guests from every part of the body,” Sam says.

I hug the kit to my stomach and make my way back to Easton. This side of the island’s a lot warmer. Or maybe it’s just that the rainy season is almost over. And I’m worried. So worried. “I’m back.”

I watch his chest rise and fall for a beat as I enter. He’s putting on a good show for me, trying to make me relieved that he’s not doing bad. But his labored breathing says it is acting—not reality. “I’ve got the kit and Sam.”

“Hey, Easton. I’m damn glad to see you.”

“Same to you, Captain.”

Now I know he’s putting on an act. None of the guys have been calling Sam “Captain.” Not since we’ve been together.

Sam kneels by Easton. “Mind if I take a look?”

“Uh, I thought Haley was going to... Do you have any experience?”

I crouch by Easton’s head. “More than I do, I’m sure. But I can do it if you want me to.” More than anything, I want Sam to be the one to clean the wound out. The idea of hurting Easton more sends a wave of fear over me.

“No, it’s okay, Haley. Sam can do it.” Easton drops his head. And I run my fingers through his soft brown hair, smoothing it away from his forehead. It’s getting so long. When we found the Rock Candy, we did a day of “salon and barber shop.”

But then the repairs on the boat took over, and with the endless rain, we were on our own hamster wheel of never-ending work. Like being back on the mainland. Or when Zane was trying to get the shelter built. It’s an easy cycle to slip into, I suppose.

Easton takes in a big breath, and I bring my hand back quickly. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, the opposite. Please keep petting me. It feels good. Don’t stop.”

Sam’s working in the kit. He’s found a sterile pad and has it open. Easton’s the one who stocked both of the kits. There are little bottles of vodka in them. Sam holds one up to the light. “How’s the pain right now?”

“It’s okay.”

“You don’t have to be a hero, Easton.” Sam’s voice drops. “You should have some of these, anyway. It will help with the swelling.” Sam holds out two tablets and a bottle of water we brought from camp in his gloved hands.

“Open up,” I say. I take the pills from Sam and put them in Easton’s mouth.

I hold his head up while I help him sip some water.

Then I go back to petting his hair. I’m doing the best I can to distract Easton from Sam.

Sam’s unwinding the tourniquet of vines and removing Calvin’s shorts and the leaves.

But he hisses when Sam pulls the last bit away.

“I’m going to wash it out with some alcohol. This is going to hurt like hell,” Sam says.

“It’s fine. I know it’s necessary. It’s already pink around the edges. And if my fever has anything to do with it, we need to beat down the impending infection.” Easton lays his head back on my legs. His skin is more than pink. It’s bright red with streaks going out from it.

“Hold his other shoulder, Haley,” Sam says.

My eyes flick to Sam’s. His forehead is furrowed. I’m doing my best to not look. I’m not squeamish. But bullet holes are a lot scarier than a foot ripped apart by coral. Or maybe it’s that Easton is the one with the most medical experience and I just trusted him.

“He’s going to be okay.” Sam nods at me. “Now hold on tight because this isn’t going to be pleasant.”

“I’m not going to flop around. Just do it.” Easton’s got his head cocked to his arm. “See the spot toward my elbow where it’s really pink? Make sure you get that section.” He nods to Sam and drops his head back to my legs. “Do it.” Easton’s eyes are tightly closed. There’s a tick in his jaw.

Sam’s got gauze, antiseptic spray and bandages set on a clean pad ready to go. I’m holding on to Easton’s hand, my arm wrapped around his side, ready to put downward pressure on him when Sam pours the alcohol, in case he can’t stay in place.

“One, two . . .”