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CHAPTER TEN
IT TOOK FOUR FULL DAYS for Alexa to finally get back on her feet, but not without one hell of a fight from her—and from Tank.
In the medical supplies that Cutter had removed from the plane before he went missing were three things that were critical to her care—all of them common: Benadryl, to assist with the inflammation and itchiness; Tylenol, to stave off her fever; and penicillin, to fight off infection.
Alexa was lucky in that she’d only been bitten twice by the young spiders that had swarmed her. No other bites were found on her body, which Tank attributed to the sheer amount of webbing that had encased her.
Water was critical to flush the toxins from her system, so Tank did as he said he would and showed us all how to get water from the many bamboo trees that surrounded the hut.
Apparently, all one needed to do was to take a knife and hack away at the tender bark, and purified water eventually would flow in a steady stream, which filled our empty water bottles—and then some. I’d never heard of such a thing, but I was grateful that Tank had. Access to that water saved us, as did two additional trips to retrieve fallen coconuts from the forest floor.
Increasingly, we were beginning to feel the tribe’s presence. We heard random footsteps in the jungle during the day and near our hut late at night. So we decided to leave the pineapple alone, and only went for the fruit that had recently fallen to the ground.
Besides the coconuts, which Tank opened by smashing them against a jagged rock, we also ate the breadfruit and papaya Alex and I had found during an excursion into the jungle with Tank. In addition, Tank made a spear for me, so I was able to catch the red snapper that was accessible at low tide. Tank and I cleaned the fish and cooked them over an open fire on bamboo skewers. It wasn’t perfect, but it was food—and we were grateful to have it, even if we had to eat the fish with our hands.
And even if it seemed that, for whatever reason, no one was looking for us.
When we first arrived back at the hut with Alexa, Lisa had finished her ‘SOS’ sign on the beach. But instead of taking a branch and dragging it through the sand to carve out the sign, she had gone above and beyond. She’d found rocks, and had labored to build a huge, three-dimensional sign that easily could be spotted from the air.
But today was the beginning of our second week on the island, so at this point, I wasn’t sure if anyone would ever see that sign.
Everyone had a theory about why we were still here, which ranged from the destruction of the black box that was near the rear of the plane to the question of where the cockpit had fallen when it ripped away from the aircraft before we crashed. We were going so fast at that point, Tank said it could have fallen into the ocean fifty miles away from us, which is where search teams might be focusing their efforts, thinking that the entire plane had fallen into the ocean at that location.
Hope for being found hadn’t left any of us yet, but worry, stress, and tensions were rising. Was this it for us? Would they never find us? These were questions none of us could answer. In fact, the only answer was to survive—and to wait. And to hope. And to pray, just as we prayed each day for Cutter’s return, bleak as that appeared to be as this point.
Twice, Tank had returned to the wreckage site to search the jungle for his friend, and each time he returned to tell us that there were no signs of Cutter’s body. No bones, clothes, or flesh left behind by the plane’s explosion. He was convinced that Cutter was still somewhere in the jungle, either abducted by the tribe or unable to move likely because of severe injuries.
What none of us said was how could anyone survive what must have been major injuries without food or water for a week? It didn’t seem possible to any of us except Tank, who mentioned more than once that Cutter had been trained for just this sort of situation, and that there were ways to survive in isolated places such as this—especially on a tropical island, which provided so much to sustain life. Though he did reluctantly admit that the window was narrowing.
The one positive thing that came from Tank’s search for Cutter was that he’d found a waterfall that each of us now used daily to wash ourselves. This is where Alex and I were now, with Tank nearby for protection, but out of sight. He had his gun and his knife on him. All of us were allowed to wash once per day, but only if Tank accompanied us for safety’s sake.
Nobody complained about that.
Before Alex and I disrobed, we stood at the water’s edge and admired the waterfall that tumbled and shimmered from the high peak ahead of us. It was surrounded by thick, lush foliage and flowering plants that popped with a host of vibrant colors. There were deep reds, purples, blues, yellows, and pinks. And then there were the birds—dozens of them, all chirping or squawking as they flew from tree to tree. Looking at the view, it was as if it had somehow been shot straight out of a Hollywood set, and not lodged into—what had become for us—a nightmare. Still, its beauty was so arresting, and the sounds of the falling water and the birds were so soothing, it offered what all of us needed when we came to it—a necessary, illusionary escape.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Alex said.
“It has no right to be, but it is.”
“And yet you eclipse it.”
I blushed when he said that, even though I knew that it wasn’t true. “Thank you for that, but have you had a good look at me lately? I’m a wreck.”
“Not to me, you aren’t. You’re more beautiful than ever.”
I turned to him, and when I saw the love reflected back to me in his eyes, I sank into his embrace and kissed him deeply, knowing that even though Tank wasn’t far away, he’d never pry on us or disturb our privacy. For this moment, my husband and I were alone.
“How are you?” he asked me as he stroked my hair.
“Happy to have you with me,” I said. “Relieved that your throat is nearly healed and that you have your strength back again.” We parted, and I placed the palm of my hand against his cheek. “I can’t imagine life without you, Alex. I don’t ever want to imagine that. You gave me a terrible scare when we crashed. We haven’t talked much about it, but seeing Tank give you CPR was one of the worst moments of my life. He brought you back to me, and for that, I owe him everything.”
When he smiled at me, it was so gentle and loving that a little bit of me fell away at the sight of it. At that point, the stubble he’d always sported had grown into a full beard, which I thought suited him—even though the dimples I loved so much were pretty much hidden at this point.
“I love you, Jennifer.”
“I love you, too. More than you know.”
“Tank brought me back, but so did you.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re not over yet. I know things look bleak right now, but eventually, we’ll be found. That’s something I have to believe in. And when we are found, we’re going to grow old together, have children together, run Wenn together—and then we’re going to hand off Wenn to our kids and run away together. We’re still young. We have our whole lives ahead of us. After the crash, I fought to come back for you, and for our future. You and Tank are the reasons I’m alive now. Tank did the physical work, but you were the magnet that pulled me back.”
“Now you’re going to make me cry.”
“I don’t mean to.”
Still, I blinked away tears.
“Let’s have none of that,” he said, motioning toward the waterfall. “Instead, how about if we have a relaxing ‘shower’ today? There’s no need to hurry this time.”
“But Tank generally wants us to be quick.”
“Maybe I had a little talk with Tank...”
I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Look,” he said. “I miss my wife. I miss holding her. I miss being alone with her. And I miss making love to her. While I know the latter is out of the question right now because of the baby, at the very least, we can go over to that beautiful waterfall, stand beneath the cool water on this hot day, wash each other’s backs, and maybe you’ll let me rub your shoulders. I’d like to spend some time together before we go back to the others. Just you and me.” He came closer, kissed me again, and then began to unbutton my shirt. “So, what do you say?”
“Do you really think I’m about to refuse spending time with my husband? Or having his hands on me?”
“I hope not.”
I began to unbutton his shirt—which revealed his muscular, lightly hairy chest to me—and then I removed it from him and hung it on a nearby branch, as he did with mine. We each removed the rest of our clothes, and then, without warning, Alex’s lips were back on mine. First, it was a tender kiss, but then it became so heated, I could feel his love for me course through his body and jolt straight into mine. When our lips parted, I pressed my forehead against his, and for a moment, we just stood there like that—our eyes closed, but our hearts full.
“Despite everything, I’m grateful,” I said. “It could have been worse. I could have lost you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t. And I thank God for that.”
“Let’s go beneath the water,” he said. “We’ve got thirty minutes. Let’s use that time to be in the moment and let this week go.”
“Is that even possible?”
“Anything is possible between you and me.”
When we reached the waterfall, the water was indeed cool—but not crisp—which was perfect. It pounded down upon us, offering its own massage. But Alex wanted more than that, and so he turned me around and came up behind me.
“Let me rub your shoulders,” he said.
I could feel him against my buttocks, and while I longed to be with him, it was out of the question until we knew where we stood with our child. But intimacy? Intimacy had many forms. What surprised me was that by choosing to abstain, Alex and I had become closer than we’d ever been. I’d always considered us a single unit, even before we got married, but nothing like this. This was profound. This was what true love felt like. It was real, and I was lucky to experience it.
With a strength that reassured me, Alex began to knead my sore shoulders, and I decided to just let go and give all of myself to him. I relaxed beneath his touch—and warmed into it. My shoulders ached, but the way Alex was working them now, I knew they wouldn’t be so stiff when he was finished. His hands were magic.
“How that does feel?” he asked.
“Blissful. When you’re finished, I’ll do the same for you.”
On one level, it felt illicit to be naked out in the open together. On another level, if felt oddly right. We were in a primitive land, tucked away in some unknown jungle—so what could be more appropriate than literally being one with nature? As Alex continued to work on my shoulders, with the cool water splashing down upon us, the jungle’s warm breeze causing the trees to sway above us, and the sunlight dancing around us, I felt—for the first time since we’d crashed—almost like myself.
“We’re going to beat this, Jennifer,” he said in my ear. “I promise you that. They’ll find us.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know.”
“But we haven’t even heard the sound of a plane. Not once. Nothing.”
“We will. I need you to believe that we will.”
But two days later, our ninth day on the island, no one had come for us. Although we constantly listened for the sounds of planes searching in the distance for us, we heard nothing. And there still were no signs of Cutter, whom I now feared was dead. More and more, the idea that we might not be found began to creep into my heart in ways that I shared with no one. To keep morale up, it was critical to remain positive, so I did, as did the others. But how much longer could any of us sustain that?
Worse, with each day that I was away from my doctor, our child—if it was even alive—was losing whatever hope it had left to survive.
