Chapter 22

In the beautifully designed executive offices of Global Systems Technology, Rose Mayfield sat at her desk stewing.

Where was her boss?

What was going on with Pete and Conrad?

Rita, Conrad’s little makhasheyfe had only said they would not be in the office today. Rita was always full of herself and the true definition of Yiddish witch. Rose resented the motherly woman who wore flat shoes and flowery prints that did nothing to improve her rotund figure or looks. Rita rarely wore any kind of makeup, except lipstick in bright red, and always brought her lunch in the same old plastic butter container. Today she was particularly secretive and preoccupied with herself. The same way she always was when she had information she didn’t want to share. It chaffed Rose’s cheeks and she focused her attention on searching for Pete’s cell phone signal. If she could find out where he was, maybe she would have a hint, at least.

Information was power. Power was money, and influence, and everything Rose had lost in the last year. And everything she had gained! She tapped her acrylic nails on the edge of her desk. Something was up and she needed to know what it was. Now!

She dialed the burn phone number hidden on a note card under her drawer.

No answer.

Rose dialed again, just to make sure she had the right number. She’d only purchased the phone a few months back and rarely called the number. “Come on, Henry, pick up.” Rose tapped her keyboard with a shiny silver pen that held the inscription, Executive Assistant of the Year. She’d been given that award after her first nine months at GST, by her boss, himself. She’d stood at the head of the auditorium, calm and graceful, accepting an award that should have gone to Rita. Shoulda, coulda, woulda. That frump wasn’t even at the dinner. She had a family to take care of. Big deal. Rose wiggled the fourth finger of her left hand. Her five-karat diamond engagement ring sparkled with the fire of the stars. The gold band next to it solidified her union with Zede and the Tools of God.

Checking and re-checking the number, she hit redial.

Nothing.

Something was definitely wrong.

Her next call was to Seth Cohen. His name meant appointed by God in Hebrew and he took his name seriously. He was the head of the group she’d engaged to punish those who had killed her father and destroyed her family. It was all about atonement in her Talmud.

Their plan had been perfectly crafted and executed. What could have gone wrong?

****

Jane sat close to her small campfire; a hunk of Spam on a long stick sizzled as it leaked fat into the flames. She’d opened the can carefully, listening to the hiss to make sure the can had not leaked or been punctured. The familiar smell of cooking pork products reached her nose and she considered eating it semi-raw.

Jane’s stomach growled loud enough to spook Silly Bird. It sat complacently on its perch, the rum pan empty. When the outside of the meat was suitably dark and crispy, Jane ventured a bite. The salty meat was manna from heaven, and she took a bigger bite, promptly burning her tongue.

“Hah! That’s what you get for being a pig, Jane.” Talking to herself was better than silence, and Silly Bird wasn’t speaking since its morning draught of rum. Did the bird actually eat, or just drink itself into a stupor? “You should taste this, Silly Bird. It’s wonderful.” She consumed the hunk and put another chunk on the stick to cook. “Better than hot dogs on Fourth of July.”

As she cooked the can of meat and ate to her heart’s delight, Jane sat watching the sky through the cave’s bigger opening. She’d hacked at the vegetation with her newest tool to clear the cave mouth.

The sky was really weird. On the horizon to the west, she could see a wall of clouds. To the north and south as well. Strange indeed. The sky was a pretty shade of red and yellow hues above the cloud walls. The air was dead and humid beyond belief. It was as if Jane wore a lead overcoat in a sauna.

“What I wouldn’t give for a little AC right now…”

“Red sky in morning, sailors take warning.” Silly Bird ruffled its feathers and squawked. “Red sky at night, sailors delight.”

“Well, Silly Bird, it’s morning and there is red sky. But I’m not a sailor on a ship and I’ve already weathered my storm.” She peered across the muddy gash in the hill near her cave. “And the avalanche, and almost drowning. Don’t forget being shot at and falling onto a garbage barge, and being dumped into the ocean to die…

Holy mother of God!

She remembered!

She’d been shot at by…who?

The fat man’s image appeared before her eyes. He aimed a gun at her and pulled the trigger. A searing pain exploded in her head and she fell backward over a bridge railing onto a…

Garbage barge?

The fat man in her visions wasn’t some benevolent grandfather, some drunk dad on a bender. He was her attacker! And he was German! The voice manifested itself in her mind.

The cell.

The water bottles.

The beating!

Jane held her head and screamed.

Silly Bird jumped of its perch and flew out the cave entrance, disappearing into the dense jungle.

“I’m sorry, Silly Bird. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The tears began as Jane pulled the tarp around herself and curled into a ball next to the fire. It was hot and humid, and the tarp stunk, but it was security.

Jane didn’t care.

She cried herself into oblivion and slept.

****

“You think you got everything?” Bull considered the pile of equipment and arms in the back of Pete’s SUV. “Nope, wait! You forgot the kitchen sink…” Bull was sandwiched into the back seat next to Evie and Simon. Conrad drove and Pete sat shotgun as they headed for the marina and the substantial ride that awaited.

There was no wind this beautiful morning and the sun shone with already building warmth. Evie closed her eyes and concentrated on a quick prayer. Please, Lord, keep that storm in place until we find Andrea.

“We’re working on it, Evie. We’ll do our best,” came her answer.

Evie opened her eyes to Simon’s bowed, smiling face. He grinned at her a little sideways. “They’re working on it, babe.”

*****

“Grady, like this. With your legs.” Amee sat on the edge of a cloud wall, her legs dangling down, holding the storm back with sheer strength of will. She had a lot of strength of will for a dead woman!

“I ain’t been here as long as you, honey. It don’t work so good for me.” Grady looked down on the earth below, trying to maintain his leg-hold on the edge of the clouds.

Amee pointed to her legs. “It’s not here.” She pointed to her heart. “It’s here. Pull from your heart.”

Grady considered the thought, then reached way down deep into his soul and gave a mighty tug. The storm began to stabilize, the eye remaining over the little island where Andrea and Silly Bird slept.

“That’s the way, honey! I knew you could do it!” Amee’s gleeful cry sparkled across the water with the early morning rays of the sun, now above the cloudbank.

Grady pointed to his heart. “It ain’t so hard, when you pull from here.”

He was rewarded with a cherubic giggle as he focused on the task at hand, and his love for the angel who sat next to him. The simple silver band he’d made in his younger days now graced the hand of Amee, where it was intended all those years ago. It mattered not a fig that he had to wait a lifetime and pass into the next to finally place it there. It caught the sunlight and twinkled, as if to wink at its maker.

The two sat together, holding the pressure system with their combined power and watching the ship below cruise toward the coral atoll where they would find Conrad’s wife, and a very silly bird with an alcohol problem.

“You think they have Alcoholics Anonymous for birds?” Amee grinned at her love.

“I wouldn’t be surprised, girl.” Grady grinned back, consumed with love and emotion. It was always like that now, here with Amee. Reverend Summers, the holy rollin’ preacher that used to make the rounds of his Arkansas hills home, was right. The love never ended with life, you simply carried it with you into the beyond.

Grady took Amee’s hand and kissed her knuckles, one by one.

She giggled outrageously and kicked a hole in the cloudbank with her joy.

The Miss Bliss sailed right on through into the calm of the eye of the storm.

****

The grisly captain of the Miss Bliss stood scouring his map of the island chain. “This is Pretoria. Never been there myself. Looks like we can get through the reef, here.” He pointed to a dotted line someone had drawn on the ancient map in marker. “The guy who used to own this tub, knew these waters like the back of his hand. Made all them scratch marks.” The captain pointed to a cubby chest on the back wall of the ship’s less than spacious bridge. Each little square box held several rolled-up maps. Some were tattered and stained, some new and curled tightly. The chart cabinet was a library archive of the waters of the Caribbean. “Left me all his charts when he sold her to me.” The captain spit chew into an empty tuna can on the counter. “Wanna see what burrito sauce looked like from the fifties? Just pull the Cuba C-54 chart.”

Pete winced and swallowed. He was a little green around the gills but holding his own.

Conrad chuckled.

This kind of junk heap was right up his alley. Rusty, solid steel everywhere, and a hull as thick as a cinder block. They could plow their way through the reef if necessary. The barge tender must have been built in the forties and still had the original upholstery and wheel. The brass was shiny with use, but the console had seen better days. Duct tape held the radio in place and a Garmin GPS, usually found in cars, sat in an old bicycle basket, screwed to the wall and plugged into a cigarette lighter outlet. From the stacked garbage can, it was obvious the captain lived onboard his boat. Conrad recognized trash from no less than six different fast food restaurants. A small fridge was cargo belted to the wall on one side, and dirty clothing was strewn about the cabin.

Simon sat on a bench behind the captain’s chair, his computer on his lap, his relationshipee at his side. “Ah, Captain Ron, I just got an update from NOAA. You are not going to believe this!” He swiveled his laptop toward the captain.

“Name’s Cecil there, Matey.” He spit again and Conrad watched Pete, behind Cecil, swallow hard.

“Right.” Obviously, the captain didn’t get the Kurt Russell joke. “See this.” Simon pointed to the satellite picture on the screen. “The cloud bank has just opened up right there. Where we need to get in.” Conrad rubbed his eyes as if he couldn’t believe what he saw. “Right where we need it. Right now, when we need it.”

“Ain’t believin’ that there sky picture, son. Just keep yer eyes on the water. Water never lies.”

Evie commented quietly. “Divine intervention, I’d say.” She shot Amee a mental note of thanks and opened the door to the walkway next to the bridge.

Pete and Conrad followed her out, taking great lungful’s of fresh air. “A little of that guy goes a long way.” He looked toward the island. It was a speck in the distance. “We’ll be there soon. Cross your fingers.” Pete held up both hands. “And watch the water. The water never lies.” He imitated Captain Cecil and crossed his fingers with a grin.

As the island came into full view, Conrad gasped. The first and most prominent feature was a huge gash from the top of the island’s one hill, clean down to the ocean. He grabbed binoculars to scan the area closer. “Will ya look at that.” He leaned over the railing where Evie stood, holding Pete, who was intermittently feeding the fish. Handing the binoculars to Evie, Conrad pointed. “That’s some avalanche. And fairly new by the look of the mud.”

Evie focused the binoculars on the huge slide. “Man, looks like a big mess.” She surveyed the surrounding area, slowly moving the binoculars back and forth. “Jungle, trees, birds, monkeys…Conrad! There’s smoke. Look!” She handed the glasses back to Conrad and pointed to a place halfway up the hill on the east side of the slide.

Pete stood up, wiping his mouth with the tail of his shirt. “You sure?”

“Sure as rain.” Conrad focused the binoculars and looked again. “Definitely smoke. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Where there’s fire, I’ll bet my wife is involved.” His grin was almost bigger than his face. He could feel his cheeks stretch for the first time in days. It felt so good.

“Inside.” Captain Cecil yelled out the open window. “We’re slippin’ the gap.”

“I know that means something…” Simon grumbled as the group moved inside and Evie took the laptop from Simon, closing the lid. “Hey, that’s my…”

“Sensitive instrument?” Evie plopped down on the bench next to him. “It’ll live.” She patted his upper thigh suggestively and grinned.

“Bad, bad girl.” Bull mentioned in passing. He’d just come from below and still held a cup of coffee.

“Don’t ya know that stuff’ll stunt your growth, Bull?” Conrad chuckled.

Bull toasted Conrad with his metal cup. “Here’s hoping.”

“Hold on. I’m gonna run this channel.” Captain Cecil shoved a lever forward and the engine roared as the boat lurched ahead with the combined force of the motors and wave action.

Simon grabbed Evie.

Pete threw up in the garbage can.

Conrad grabbed the counter rail and held on.

Bull stood there like a tree trunk, rooted in place. Sipping his coffee.

“Yee ha!” Cecil sat in his captain’s chair, feet braced on the chart table. “Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’. Keep them doggies rollin’. Yee ha!” He sang. Well, Conrad wouldn’t call it singing.

“What year is this again, babe?” Simon was watching the captain in disbelief. “I hope he knows what he’s doing, cause there’s no doggies here, and we’re headed for a coral reef, not a corral.”

It only lasted a couple minutes, and Conrad heard Pete swear. “This is like being back in high school! Holding on for dear life and vomiting, which was most of my senior year, But I survived.” Pete hurled into the garbage can again. When the ship finally settled in the calmer waters of the lagoon, Pete’s stomach had to be about as empty as Mother Hubbard’s cupboard. With a pitiful groan, Conrad’s lifelong buddy stepped outside to breathe as best he could. Leaning on the railing, Pete looked into the azure waters. A triangular fin slid by the hull beneath him.

Shark!

Pete slammed his back against the wall of the cabin and froze. Conrad hated sharks as much as Pete. They’d had an adrenaline-hyped interlude with the species once, diving off the coast of Texas. He never wanted to repeat that particular interaction again. The shark had been nosy. Pete had been terrified. Conrad was cautious and ready, but very uncomfortable with the size of the fish’s teeth and strength. He watched as the fin dipped beneath the surface and disappeared.

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord.

The biblical saying just popped into his head and he looked up.

Overhead, making lazy circles in the sky, soared a beautifully colored macaw. Conrad swore it looked him straight in the eye before screeching.

“Got rum? Rum all gone. Give me my rum.”

“Stupid bird. Where’d you come from?” Pete laughed. Now that the water was calmer and he was outside in the air, he was recovering. The humidity was oppressive, and Conrad wiped his face with the side of his shirt.

“Silly Bird. Silly Bird, got no rum.”

The bird flew lower as if to land on the front of the ship.

At the bird’s squawking, Evie rushed out of the cabin and onto the deck. “Did that bird say ‘Silly Bird?’” She asked in disbelief.

“Yeah. I wonder who taught it to talk?” He considered approaching the macaw as it landed, but nixed the idea as the bird snapped its beak and eyed him dangerously, or what Conrad thought was dangerously, anyway.

“Simon, come out here.” Evie shouted for her boyfriend. “That’s Silly Bird. We have the right island.”

Conrad stripped off his shirt and prepared to dive in and swim to the beach. It wasn’t far or deep and he was a strong swimmer.

“Nah uh. No swimming in shark infested waters, Rad.” Pete grabbed Conrad’s belt from behind to keep his friend from diving in.

“What?” Conrad struggled to get loose. “Andrea’s on that island. I can feel it.”

“Look.” Pete pointed to the fin just above the water a few feet to the port side of the ship. “You’ll feel something, all right! Triangle fin. Sharp teeth. Unquenchable appetite. All adds up to Conrad hors d’oeuvre. Did you miss the fact that your finned friend is still around and possibly hungry?” Pete held Conrad’s belt, shaking his head. “No, no, no. Our project is not finished yet and I can’t fulfill the contract alone. No swimming today, buddy. I fed the fish enough for both of us.”

“Bunch of landlubbers.” Captain Cecil mumbled as he strolled by, headed for the stern of the ship. “Ya think they’d look for a dinghy.” He grumbled and spit into the ocean. “Back here.”

The captain lowered the Miss Bliss’s dinghy at the back of the boat and showed his passengers how to open the ship’s hatch and lower the gangplank to form a docking platform.

Bull, whose brain was working overtime on caffeine and Ritz with Cheese Whiz, had already assembled a few necessities and handed them down as the group crawled into the dinghy.

****

Jane was hot as hell and climbing up some mountain pass behind a string of soldiers. Her pack must have weighed a hundred pounds and a fifty-pound camera dragged at her neck. Every time she looked up, the mountain got higher.

The ping of a bullet ricocheted off a rock by her left hand.

“Incoming!” The group scattered and hid behind rocks and in ditches.

The scary man with dark glasses yanked her down, just in time to miss a hail of well-aimed rounds.

He saved her?

See looked down. The camera was gone. “My camera!”

She tried to stand, but the man held her down. “I’ll get your damn camera. Stay here. Stay down. I don’t want to explain a dead journalist on my watch.”

The man was angry and clearly resentful of Andrea.

Andrea?

Journalist?

Afghanistan?

Jane woke to a foreign sound outside her cave. She threw back the tarp and felt the assaulting, oppressive heat in the cave entrance where she’d fallen asleep. Her small fire now smoldered, and thin wisps of smoke drifted out the entrance.

“Silly Bird…” She surveyed the cave. The bird was gone. She had no one to share her revelation with.

“My name is Andrea and I was a photojournalist in Afghanistan!” She shook her head, reaching for more in her Swiss Cheese brain. There was nothing to grasp onto, but sunshine and smoke.

Stepping out into the open area in front of her cave, she almost fainted. Below in the large lagoon, floated a big tugboat. About to start waving and screaming, her survival instinct clicked in, as a hand went to the crusty wound on her forehead.

Friend or foe?

Her view from the side of the hill was perfect. She watched from behind some bushes while three men and a woman crawled into the dinghy and headed for the beach. The man who sat at the back steering the boat was enormous and the dinghy ran lopsided in the water. The other two guys looked like they were ready for war, and the woman wore bright yoga pants and a halter top. What a strange assortment of friends, or foes? Why couldn’t she tell?

The slight smell of burned wood touched Andrea’s nostrils.

The fire!

She crawled to the edge of the cave and covered the last few embers with dirt and gravel.

The visitors had probably seen the smoke.

Hiding in the undergrowth once again, Andrea watched the beach as the people piled out and the huge black man hauled the boat up onto the beach with one hand.

Silly Bird flew into the cave behind her, screeching then flew back out.

“Shut up, Silly Bird. You’ll give us away. They may not be friendlies.” Andrea shooed the bird away, but Silly Bird was having no part of it.

“Got rum! Rum’s here. Get me my rum!” The bird screamed.

The group turned at once and Andrea saw the scary man in dark glasses.

And ran…

****

“Andrea! Wait.” Conrad saw his wife’s head pop out of the bushes and his heart nearly burst out of his chest.

She was alive!

She was here!

And she was running away from him?

Running…

From him?

What in the world was wrong with her?

Before anyone could figure it out, Pete took off through the bushes at a dead run. “Andi, wait!” He screamed.

Evie followed Pete into the jungle.

“Up the hill and to the right, guys.” Simon was on the fly-bridge of the Miss Bliss watching the scene with binoculars and spoke through the comms they’d set up before leaving the ship.

Conrad stood in place on the beach, rubbing his neck. He’d found his wife, and she’d run from him. What was that about?

“Mr. McIntyre, sir? We should go along the beach and head them off.” Bull pulled at Conrad’s arm. “Sir?”

Still stunned by Andrea’s behavior, Conrad didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

Didn’t think.

Not getting a response, Bull jerked a little harder and Conrad flew into the side of the dinghy.

That got his attention. “What?” Conrad rubbed his shoulder and pushed himself off the rubber pontoon.

“We should go along the beach. I don’t think she knew who we were. Her face was messed up.” Bull looked as apologetic as he could. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.”

“Conrad, along the beach to your left, around the lagoon. The hill meets a small river. She has to come out of the jungle there, unless she decides to climb to the top of the hill.” Simon reported from his lookout post in the lagoon.

Pete was a flash for about ten minutes, then his speed and vigor began to fade, and he slowed. It wasn’t hard to follow Andrea’s trail, between the ripped greenery and the squawking bird that flew above her.

A flash of blue denim ahead of them had Evie passing Pete in a blur. “Catch your breath. I’ve got this.”

Evie scrambled past Pete and saw Andrea’s back. “Andrea! Wait, Andi!” Evie pulled out all the stops and chased the fleeing woman. “Andi, stop. It’s Evie.” She yelled between pants.”

****

Silly Bird dove at Andrea. “Silly Andi. Need to stop. Need to Stop.”

Andrea froze mid-step. She was panting and dizzy from the scramble and the dense heat. Her side burned like the Devil. “What did you say, Silly Bird?”

The bird flew to perch on a limb next to her head, as the woman from the boat crested the hill Andrea had just climbed at break-neck speed. “Silly Andrea. Need to stop. Need to Stop. Got rum? Give me my rum.”

“Andrea? Andi? It’s Evie. Major Evielynne Gastineau, Conrad’s friend from California.” Evie held up her hands and approached slowly. Andrea stood to run, but something in her brain said stay. Conrad? Evie? Friend from California? Friend?

“It’s all right now. You are safe and she is your friend.” The voice was back. She still had no idea who this voice belonged to, but instinct, or insanity, whatever the voice was, told her to listen.

Evie sat down to catch her breath a few feet away.

Andrea put her hands to her head and the tears began. “I’m so confused. I can’t remember…”

“It’s okay, Andi. We found you, and you’re safe now.”

The searchers below heard it all and Conrad responded. “Evie, she’s with you? Is she okay?”

“Holy crap! They’re on the top of the hill. Evie’s with Andrea.” Simon reported through the comm. He was still on his observation platform on the boat.

“Roger that. Hold in place.” Evie touched her ear and reported in. She turned her face back to Andrea and inched forward. “Honey, what happened to you?”

“I…I don’t know. It’s all so blurry. I can’t remember…” Tears rolled down her face as she wiped at her nose.

“Andi, I’m your friend. Your husband is down there waiting for us. We came to rescue you.” Evie chuckled at her comment. “But it looks like you are doing a fine job of surviving on your own. You are one hell of a strong woman.” Evie inched forward again, peering at the wound on Andrea’s head. “You got shot by the men who kidnapped you.”

As she heard the words, Andrea gasped. It all came back in a rush of memory so strong and emotional, she started to fall over. In a flash, Evie caught her in a tight hug. “It’s okay, Andi. It’s okay.” Andrea rocked sobbing on the shoulder of the woman who held her. “Guys, give us a minute.” Evie commented into her comm.

“You can have all the time in the world. I’m still trying to catch my breath, and it’s not letting me. There’s too much stuff in the air here.” Pete sat halfway up the hill, next to the cascading stream that joined the river below.

****

“Look Grady, they found her!” Amee clapped with glee and accidently sent a lightning bolt down toward the earth. She pulled Grady to his feet and they danced a little jig on cloud nine. Unfortunately, in their exuberance, Amee inadvertently released the edge of the storm.

“Uh oh, baby.” He took Amee’s hand and they peered over the edge of their cloud. “They better get out of there on the double.” Grady paused in his celebration to watch Simon on the fly-bridge. “Son, you better get a move on.” He directed his thoughts toward his great-nephew with all the strength he possessed.

****

They all saw the lightning hit the top of the hill, its bright light blinding Simon for a second. Then he heard his uncle’s voice and swayed with emotion. It happened every time Uncle Grady spoke to him from heaven…and he always listened! “Guys? Guys, we gotta get out of here. I got it on good authority.”

Bull and Conrad both looked at the sky. The storm had begun to move. “Evie, can you get Andrea to the beach?” Simon knew all Conrad could think of was racing up that hill and grabbing his wife in his arms, and covering her with kisses. That’s what he would have done. Even where he stood on the ship, Simon ached to hold Evie. His fingers needed to feel her. His lips needed to touch hers. His— He cut off the thoughts before he couldn’t walk straight. He could imagine how Conrad must be feeling after thinking his wife had died. He shot a quick mental thanks to his uncle, wherever the man was.

“No problema, mahn.” Evie was relieved and her humor was returning with her breath. “Andrea, we have to go. The storm is moving fast now. Can you walk okay?”

Simon was monitoring the conversations as the group started to move. He glanced at the up-to-the-minute weather map. “Move faster, folks.”

The strength of the emotional deluge was beginning to fade and with Evie’s help, Simon watched Andrea struggled to her feet. “Broken ribs.” Andrea held her midsection. The statement was clear and strong, if punctuated with a tight groan.

“And you ran up that hill like a gazelle? I have new respect for those photographic feet.”

****

Andrea grinned. She remembered the joke! She remembered everything.

Just before she and Conrad had taken their vows, Evie sat with her in the rectory of the church, fussing over her dress and posing for the required informal action pictures of pre-wedding prep. Andrea thought the two-inch, sparkly heels she wore made her feet look huge. She’d told the photographer, no pictures of her feet!

“Let’s get out of here. But I need Silly Bird. I want to take it with me. It saved my life.” Andrea looked around for the bird, but it was nowhere to be found. “Damn. Just like the little alchy. It’s probably in our cave drinking again.”

Evie gave her friend a quizzical look.

“No, really! It did save my life and it is an alcoholic.” She picked her way down the hill ahead of Evie who’d paid little attention to where she’d run as she chased Andrea up the hill. “It must have belonged to someone at some point, because it can talk. The cave had stuff in it, like someone had lived there for a while.”

“Yeah, about seven years,” Evie retorted.

They found Pete, still sitting on the ground, still a little winded. He jumped up and went to hug Andrea, but paused, watching her face for some sign of recognition. He got it, as she limped forward into his arms.

“Pete! What are you doing here?” Andrea hugged her husband’s partner.

“A little bird said you needed a ride.” He chuckled.

“Silly Bird? Silly Bird told you I was here?” Andrea was amazed.

“Ah, no. Just a saying. Why?” Pete was clearly puzzled and Andrea shook her head at the thought. Pete was puzzled? He’d get over it. She’d just spent days with no memory at all. Silly Bird had circled the boat?

“Later, guys. We need to move.”

On their way to the beach, they did stop at Andrea’s cave for just a moment. Silly Bird was nowhere to be found. Andrea grabbed the last, unopened bottle of rum.

On the beach, Andrea could make out her husband. Conrad paced in front of the dinghy. Her heart soared, even though her legs moved like she was stuck in mud. The wind had come up and the lagoon wasn’t quite as calm as it had been when they arrived. With one extra person, the dinghy would be precariously loaded. With the waves increasing, they would need to make two trips to the boat.

“Come on, folks! I’ve seen the Perfect Storm. I don’t want to be in the remake.” Conrad rushed toward the path to the cave as the sweaty, grimy crew came into view.

Evie held up her hands to ward off Conrad’s enthusiastic approach. “Broken ribs. Hug carefully.”

Andrea passed Evie and jumped into her husband’s arms despite her wounds and broken ribs. Wincing between kisses, she plastered his face and found his lips. Wrapping her legs around him, she let the tears roll amid kisses and stabs of pain.

“I thought I’d lost you, babe.” Conrad murmured into her hair. It smelled of salt, smoke, and sweat, but it was all Andrea. “I’ll never let you out of my sight again.” He squeezed a little too hard and Andrea squeaked in pain. It was enough to make him settle her to the ground, but still, she held him close not wanting to let the contact go for a while.

“Sorry. Does it hurt much?” For the first time he took a good look at his injured wife. “Holy shit! I should have killed that fucker after all.”

Conrad touched Andrea’s head wound, her split lip. The same lip that had just covered his face with kisses! It was open and bleeding now. “Damn!”

Andrea daubed at her lip with the filthy cuff of the shirt she wore. The only thing she wore!

“Come on, guys.” Evie pointed at the sky that was darkening as they spoke. “Let’s move.”

Bull moved the dinghy back to the edge of the water. “Leave me and Mr. Newcastle here. Get the ladies onboard first.” It was more an observation than an order, but Conrad was in complete agreement. Andrea wanted off her island as soon as possible.

“Thanks, Bull. I’ll be back for you in a couple minutes. Hang tight.”

“No other way.” Bull fist bumped Conrad and shoved the loaded boat into the lagoon. “Be right here.”

****

Bull and Pete sat on the beach and watched as the dinghy sped to the Miss Bliss and discharged its passengers. “Ya know, I used to really resent Andrea’s relationship with my buddy. I never realized how strong their connection was. Makes me think I’m missing something in my own life.” Pete dug holes in the sand with his feet. “Know what I mean?”

“Nope.” Bull’s deep chuckle stalled in the thick air. “Women are all trouble. They wrap theyselves around you like a snake, and one day, wham! Bite a guy’s head right off.”

Pete stared at Bull for a second, then playfully punched the man in the shoulder, laughing at his statement.

Bull chuckled at Pete’s punch, then returned the favor.

Pete went face down in the sand as Conrad, returning for them, came ashore with the dinghy.