Beyond the Sea (6 page)

“
I’m afraid so.”

“
So we’ve just…disappeared. In the middle of nowhere.”

Brian shifted, clumsily patting Troy’s arm with his damp palm. “I’m sure they’ll find us.” His voice seemed to snap into a commanding tone. “Yes. Don’t worry. We’ll get organized in the morning. Do everything we can. It’s going to be okay.”

“
I…” Troy gulped some water, blinking away tears. “Okay. Yeah.” A thought jolted him. “Wait, do you have your phone? I didn’t thing to grab mine. Shit, that was dumb.”

“
Mine was in my jacket. It doesn’t matter anyway. We got soaked, and we’re nowhere near a service area.”

He deflated. “Right. Duh.”

“
We’re going to be just fine.”

Troy wasn’t sure how Brian could sound remotely confident after being practically catatonic earlier, but shit, he’d take it. The fog of shock seemed to dissipate the more Brian drank. “We should eat, right?”

“
Right.” He moved, hissing.

“
You okay?”

“
Yeah.” Brian moved again, and Troy heard a zipper. A flashlight beamed on, startlingly bright in the blackness. The bruise on Brian’s forehead was a mottled shadow. “I’m going to take some Advil. Do you want any? Are you in pain?”

“
I’m okay.” Well, truthfully his cheek twinged where he’d hit the floor of the plane and he ached dully all over, but they should conserve their medicine.

What if they never find us? What if I never see Mom and Troy again? What if I die here?

“
Troy?”

He was screaming in his mind, and he blinked a few times, trying to smile. “I’m fine.”

In the glow of the flashlight, Brian stared skeptically. But after a moment, he nodded and dug into the pack. “There are protein bars in here. We have enough water for now, but if it rains again, we should fill our empty bottles.”

“
Okay.” It was a relief to be able to sit back and follow instructions. They ate gross bars that tasted like chalky peanut butter, but after the first bite, Troy realized just how hungry he was. He had a second bar and drank more water.

God, what he wouldn’t give for a hot shower and to change out of his dirty, damp sweats and tee. What he wouldn’t give for shoes. And underwear. But Brian gave him leather flip-flops and a spare pair of socks, so that was something, even though the socks were wet and the thong between his toes pulled at the cotton.

“
How did this happen?” The question popped out of its own accord as they sat in the dark again, now with a mosquito net from the emergency pack draped over them. Troy was tempted to ask to have the flashlight back on, but knew it was dumb to waste the batteries.

Brian’s shoulder against him hitched, then slumped. “I’m sorry.”

“
It’s not your fault.”

“
But…”

“
Dude, I’m not blaming you.” Troy nudged Brian’s shoulder. “You saved my life. That storm was intense.”

Brian sighed, a whisper that fluttered the net. “We checked the weather reports. They were calling for rain, but nothing we couldn’t handle. Nothing out of the ordinary.” He was quiet for a few moments, and then swore under his breath. “Wet season is supposed to be over. It’s May! Goddamn global warming. I don’t know where the hell that storm came from. Seemed like a full-out cyclone. The wind was too strong, and we changed course toward Kiribati to land and wait it out. And then… Hell, I can’t believe the rain came down that fast.”

Brian almost seemed to be talking to himself now. When he didn’t go on, Troy asked, “But planes fly in rain all the time, right?”

“
Yes.”

“
So what was different?”

After a few moments, Brian said, “Huh? Sorry.”

“
It’s okay. You should rest.” The net brushed against him, and Troy jumped a little before adjusting it. It was claustrophobic in the blackness to have the net on his head and around him, but he could hear mosquitoes whining. He was usually catnip to the little fuckers, so the net had to stay.

“
No, I’m fine.” Brian cleared his throat. “In torrential rain, when a high volume of water falls too quickly, a film develops on the wings and fuselage. It becomes like…waves almost.”

“
So that causes friction?”

“
Exactly!” Brian sat up a little straighter, his voice more animated. “The friction builds, dragging on the aircraft.” His elbow brushed Troy’s. “Oh, I guess you can’t see what I’m doing with my hands. Do you really want to hear all this?”

“
Totally. Keep going.”

“
Just tell me if I’m boring you. I can talk for hours about aeronautics.”

“
Well, I was going to watch that new Matt Damon movie, but I guess that’s off the menu.”

Brian chuckled, and warmth spread through Troy even as he shivered in the night. Brian continued, “So when there’s too much friction, the lift is compromised, and the stalling speed increases. The engines flamed out. We dove, but couldn’t restart them.”

“
But why would you dive? Isn’t that just bringing us closer to crashing?”

“
It’s like… Imagine you’re driving uphill and your car stalls. If you keep trying to go up, you won’t get anywhere. There’s no momentum. No speed. You need to go downhill. The velocity restarts the stalled engines. Assuming the flameout wasn’t due to fuel starvation.”

“
Huh. Okay, that makes sense. But it didn’t work?”

Brian sighed. “The engines might have ingested too much water. I can’t say for sure. But the bottom line is that the engines were gone.”

“
So basically we were fucked.”

“
Indeed. Without the rain and wind, we could have tried gliding to the airport.”

“
Glide
? I mean, I know it was a small jet, but seriously?”

“
You’d be amazed what aerodynamics can do. Transat two-thirty-six heavy glided across a big chunk of the Atlantic to the Azores in 2001. Three hundred people on board. They had a fuel leak, and the pilot soared her in. Some of the best damn flying in history. Granted, they fucked up the fuel transfer, but hindsight’s twenty-twenty. They saved all the souls on board.” He was silent a moment. “That’s what matters,” he added quietly.

Troy thought of Paula and didn’t know what to say. He fidgeted in the oppressive darkness, fiddling with the net. He felt better when Brian was talking, so he cast about for something to say or ask. “What does that mean, when they call a plane heavy? Is it just like, literally big?”

“
Hmm? Oh, yes. It’s a plane capable of a hundred and thirty-six tons MTOW or more. Sorry. Maximum takeoff weight. So yes, when a plane is designated ‘heavy,’ it’s literally heavy.”

“
Okay, so why do they say that?” Troy wanted to keep him alert and talking.

“
Because of the wake turbulence. If a smaller plane got too close, it could flip over. ATC—air traffic control—makes sure a heavy jet gets a wider berth, and other pilots hear the call sign ‘heavy’ and know to stay clear. Does that make sense?”

“
Right, I get it. You know a lot about flying.” He laughed softly. “Duh. Which is obviously good since you’re a pilot and all. You must really love it, huh?”

Brian was silent so long Troy thought he might have fallen asleep. But he answered, “I did.”

Troy frowned. “You don’t anymore? You said you love talking about it.”

“
Talking’s different.” Brian sat rigid, and Troy could practically feel the waves of tension coming off him. “It doesn’t make sense, I know.”

“
No, it’s cool.”
Time to change the subject.
“Hey, why is it a ‘cyclone’ over here, but a ‘hurricane’ in the States?”

“
Dunno.” He seemed to relax a bit, and took another drink. “As far as I know, it’s the same thing.”

“
Have you ever seen one whip up that fast?”

“
Not anything close to this level. But with climate change, all bets are off. Weather has always had fluctuations, but it used to be much more predictable.”

Troy briefly stretched his legs out beyond the net and smoothed the foil wrapper of a protein bar on this thigh, making it crinkle in the darkness. His damp sweats stuck to him.

How is this real life? How is this
my
life?

He tried to choke it down, but he had to ask, “We’ll be okay, right?”

“
Absolutely.”

He could almost believe Brian when he sounded like that—large and in charge, Troy’s mom would have called it. He breathed through the pang of longing for her and tore a strip from his wrapper, circling it around his finger. “Okay.”

“
Besides, we’ve got one thing going for us most people in this situation wouldn’t.”

“
What’s that?”

“
From what I hear, you’re a pretty popular young man. A rescue crew of teenage girls will probably show up in the morning.”

The laugh wasn’t huge, but it was warm and good. “The paparazzi will be close behind. It’s impossible to keep those fuckers away.”

“
Ohhh, I’m going to land an exclusive interview and be able to retire. Too bad there’s no camera in that pack. I could sell shirtless desert island pics and make a mint.”

Brian’s laughter and teasing was like a warm blanket wrapped around Troy. They were hungry and banged up and probably going to die alone in the Pacific. But they spun out silly scenarios as the night wore on, and Troy could breathe easier.

And that was something.

“
What was that?”

Heart thumping, Brian wondered the same thing. He forced his lungs to expand as he listened intently. The sound had been utterly foreign, and undoubtedly emitted by some kind of living creature. A tree or a plant had not made that
screech
. He squinted into the black void of the jungle, but couldn’t even make out the outline of Troy huddled beside him beneath the mosquito net.

They were still sitting wedged into the crevasse. Even with a flashlight, traipsing through the jungle at night was unwise. Especially when Brian’s head had spun wildly when he’d tried to stand. He’d slept a little, and the Advil had made a minor dent in the dull pain throbbing from his shoulder blades up through his skull. He should have been hungry, but he’d had to force down the protein bar.

Mosquitoes whining set his teeth on edge, and Brian wished the jungle would just
shut up
. The emergency blanket tucked over him and Troy crinkled as he shifted his numb butt on the unforgiving rock.

This night was never going to end.

At least he wasn’t alone. Troy brushed against him, warm and alive, his bulk a comforting presence. It was a reminder of why Brian couldn’t zone out again even though his brain seemed wrapped in gauze. No, he had to stay focused. Stay present. It was unacceptable that he’d been so out of it earlier. Troy shouldn’t have had to go out on his own.

Although, for a rock star, Troy wasn’t what Brian had expected. He’d seemed distracted and stressed during their brief conversation on the plane, but not arrogant or spoiled. And he’d certainly held his own after the crash. Brian wondered what had prompted him to suddenly quit his band. In the cockpit, Paula had mentioned a few theories involving people whose names he didn’t know, but they’d always kept idle talk to a minimum, even at cruising altitude. She’d said—

He closed his eyes through the deep pang of grief and guilt at the memory of her lilting laughter. Choking down a swell of nausea as he remembered the sensation of her arm in his hand—her flesh still warm—Brian tried to clear his mind. He’d felt so guilty earlier, joking with Troy about fans rescuing them. Joking about
anything
when Paula was dead. When it should have been him.

But he had to be in control. Be comforting. Humor could help put the passengers—passenger—at ease and ensure their safety.

Brian cleared his throat. “It’s amazing, the noises tropical birds and frogs can make.” He listened again, but heard only the steady drone of the night insects he assumed were cicadas or something similar. The buzzing nocturnal chorus was constant. “At least that shriek didn’t sound like a polar bear.”

Troy’s warm breath brushed Brian’s face. “Huh? A polar bear?”

He worked on a light tone. “Please tell me
Lost
is not
that
old already? Or that you’re
that
young?”

Troy chuckled. “Oh, on TV. I remember it, but I didn’t have time to watch. Our show had a tight schedule, and we had schoolwork too.”

“
Your show? Concerts?”

“
Wait, you mean you didn’t watch
Rock ‘n’ Roll Academy
?” He mock gasped. “I’m insulted.”

Brian’s smile was real. “Sorry, must have missed that one. So you’re an actor too?”

“
Not really. I’m okay, but Tyson was the star. My little brother.”

That rang a bell. “Oh, is he in your band too?”

Troy was quiet for a few breaths, and when he spoke, his voice was tight. “Yeah. He’s always been super talented. Even when he was ten, he was a star. Had his first hit single—the theme song to the TV show.”

“
Wow. When I was ten, my biggest accomplishment was sweeping up hair at my Grandpa’s barber shop and winning the fifth-grade spelling bee. You must have been young too?”