Fight the Tide (28 page)

“I’m sure you’ve been told weapons are forbidden here on Salvation Island. If you have any remaining on your boat, please bring them to Theresa this morning for lockup.”

“We will,” Adam said.

“Thank you.” Damian’s eyes softened as he looked at Parker. “I’m sure this has been a stressful journey. But we’re all in this together. If there’s anything I can do to help, don’t hesitate.”

Parker nodded, willing the tears burning his eyes to stay unshed. He blurted, “I was scared.” He motioned with his hand. “I saw the boat, and I thought…” Vomit lingered in his mouth and throat, and he tried to swallow it away. “She was with some shitty people before. A bad man. He hurt me, and I thought he was here.”

“Ah. Yes, Bethany told us a bit about her former companions. I can understand your reaction. But I assure you they’re not here, and people like that will never be tolerated on this island. Bethany has proven herself to be hardworking in the time she’s been with us.”

It popped into Parker’s head and out his mouth. “You really have cows here?”

Damian smiled. “We do. A whole herd, as a matter of fact. Dairy and beef. The goal of the island was always to be sustainable and self-sufficient, but obviously we’ve upped our game recently. The chickens are doing very well, and we’re quadrupling the size of the garden. If you have any experience, we’d love to have you pitch in.”

“I don’t know anything about it. Sorry.” Parker suddenly wished he did, desperately. What did he have to offer? After being scared and resistant for so long about going to Salvation Island, he found he was afraid they’d be the ones that didn’t want
him
.

“That’s all right. We’re all learning.”

“We’ll help in any way we can,” Adam said. “You can trust us.”

Damian nodded. “I’ll speak to Connie and Theresa about this incident, and I’m sure one of them will follow up with you later. In the meantime, breakfast is on if you’re hungry.”

Parker’s stomach rebelled at the thought, but he nodded tightly. Adam and Damian shared a look before Damian strolled down the dock, and then they were alone. Suddenly feeling utterly exposed, he turned back to the water. “I’m sorry. Fuck.”

Adam’s voice was remarkably calm. “Parker, it’s okay. Look at me.”

“I can’t. I’m such a fuck-up.” He hugged himself, squeezing his eyes shut. Adam didn’t touch him now, and Parker didn’t blame him. “I almost shot her.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I
wanted
to! I wanted to.”

“She’s fine. Everything’s going to be okay.”

He whirled around, his arms flying out. “No, it won’t! I wanted to
murder
someone! I could have killed her because I couldn’t get my shit together.”

“But you didn’t,” Adam soothed, his eyes so kind.

Looking at his right hand as if the gun was still in it, Parker wanted to puke again. He croaked, “I lied to you.”

“About having the gun?”

“Yes, but more than that.”

Adam went very still. “Okay. Tell me.”

He couldn’t meet Adam’s eyes. The moored boats bobbed gently in the returning tide, gulls circling in the cloudless sky. A sob tore out of his throat. “I said I wasn’t broken, but I am.”

In a stride, Adam was wrapped around him, holding him so tightly. Parker’s arms were folded and pressed to Adam’s chest, and it was sweaty and warm and
good
, and he wanted to stay forever. Tears spilled from his cheeks, and he couldn’t dam the flow this time.

“We’re all broken,” Adam murmured, one hand stroking over Parker’s head. “We’re doing our best. You’re doing your best. You’re always so hard on yourself.”

“But—”

“But what? You shouldn’t be scared? You shouldn’t be affected when you’re traumatized? When you lose your family? When you’re assaulted by a cowardly fuck? When you have to watch a friend die? It should all roll off you without leaving anything behind?”

He knew Adam was right, but shame clung to him with barbed hooks, digging into his flesh. “I try to be strong,” he whispered.

Drawing back, Adam took Parker’s face in his hands. “I’ve told you before that you’re the strongest person I know. Getting hurt isn’t what matters. It’s that you heal. That you pick yourself up and keep going. And you do. Every time.”

“But I’m scared.” Shivering despite the heat, he curled his hands in Adam’s ratty T-shirt.

Adam leaned their foreheads together. “We’re both scared. We won’t try to hide it anymore, okay? Not from each other.”

Shivering, Parker pressed his face to Adam’s neck, breathing in sweat and the faint whiff of leather that seemed to cling to him even when it was too hot to wear his jacket. “I thought I was over it. But seeing her… It was like I was back there again. He was making me take off all my clothes, and he was hitting me, and…”

Adam’s growl vibrated through him, and he squeezed Parker closer.

“I feel like such a wuss, you know? Being scared of her.”

“You’re not.”

With each breath in Adam’s arms, the crushing weight against Parker’s lungs lightened. “I think she was telling the truth. I think Damian was too. That this is a safe place. Even though I maintain that things that sound too good to be true usually are.”

Smiling, Adam tipped up Parker’s face and kissed him softly. “I love you so much.”

“You must, since my breath has got to be all pukey and disgusting.”

Laughing, he kissed him again. “You always taste like sunshine and—”

“Shut up!” Parker guffawed, which felt so warm and light and wonderful. He blew out a deep breath, getting serious again. “I want to believe her—Bethany. That she’s sorry. But I don’t know if I can get past it.”

“You don’t have to.” Adam kissed Parker’s head.

“I don’t want to ruin things here if it really is everything they say. I want to be wrong. I want this to work out. For us to all be safe.”

Drawing back, Adam rubbed their noses together. “We’ll take it one day at a time, okay? Whatever happens, we’re in it together.”

“Okay.” He looked out to sea, to the vast expanse of the horizon, and then to where the gun had been consumed. He mused, “You know we might have needed that gun at some point in the future.”

Adam followed his gaze. “Huh. Yeah, good point. I guess I was going for the symbolism. Not so much the practicality.”

The laughter that bubbled up Parker’s throat took with it another chunk of weight from his chest. “Whoops.”

“My bad?”

They both laughed, and Parker could breathe normally again, the sunshine on his skin soothing.

“We’ll figure it all out,” Adam said.

“One way or another, I guess we always do.”
So far.
Parker shook off the dark thought. The world had gone to shit, and Adam was right. One day at a time. Hell, one hour. One minute. And in that minute, everything was okay. They were safe and pressed together, and Adam’s breath smelled stale, and Parker didn’t care.

Theresa marched up the dock with a tight smile, her dark ponytail swinging. She wore work boots and khaki shorts, a buttoned blue shirt hanging loose over a tank top. “Hey there. Calmed down?”

Stepping away from Adam, Parker ran a hand over his hot face. He was a snotty mess. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Let’s go to my office and talk about it.” When Adam opened his mouth, Theresa added, “Yes, you too.”

They held hands as they followed Theresa, fingers entwined. Leaving the water behind, they took a wide, well-tended path through the trees, coming upon a clearing with several one-story buildings. Parker wasn’t sure where the hospital was in relation, not spotting it.

Shrieks of children’s laughter filled the air, a group of kids ranging from about five to twelve kicking around a soccer ball on a small, grassy patch.

“They’ve finished their chores, and school doesn’t start for half an hour,” Theresa said, nodding toward a building that looked new, the wood beams bare without the years of dirt and wear the other structures had. “We have a couple of teachers with us now, and anyone with a particular knowledge is encouraged to lend a hand.”

Parker watched the children, some with eyes the same hazel as Adam’s, bordering on gold. “It’s…a mix of kids?”

“Yes. We’re one community now.”

A little girl scored a goal, and her shout of victory was part howl. Parker glanced to Adam, who watched avidly, his expression tender, a smile playing on his lips.

“That’s the mess hall.” Theresa pointed to the largest building, a rectangle. The smell of buttery toast wafted on the air. “We’re planning to tear down the north wall and build an extension. We serve breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and snacks are always available. As long as everyone does their share, you’re free to eat as much as you’d like. And as you saw, the cabins do have kitchenettes if you prefer to cook for yourself. We encourage everyone to join in communal meals, though.”

“Where does the electricity come from?” Adam asked.

“Solar panels.” She pointed, and Parker thought it was north, the harbor being west. “Up on the hill, we’ve got panels and a lookout station. My grandfather was ahead of his time when it came to sustainable energy. We have generators as well, but we get a lot of sunshine here.”

“We were at a place in Colorado that used green energy,” Adam said. “Certainly comes in handy now.”

Jaden and Evie’s faces flickered through Parker’s mind. God, he hoped they were okay. The Pines had been so luxurious and enormous compared to the structures on Salvation Island, but the fact that the island had apparently been operating for years was a comfort.

All around, people went about their tasks, smiling and chatting, sweat on their brows. One group chopped wood, a couple in their werewolf forms, powering through a downed tree, claws gleaming on axe handles.

As Theresa led them to the east side of the clearing, they walked through a copse of trees to a pasture and two barns. Cows did indeed dot the grass, chewing cud, their tails flicking at flies lazily.

“We’re growing our chicken and cow populations. We have a transport ship now, and we’ll be making regular trips to the mainland for supplies and livestock.” She motioned across the pasture, where a dozen people worked. “We’re tearing up more trees for more farmland. The gardens won’t be enough.”

“How many people can this island hold?” Adam asked. “If survivors keep arriving…”

“We’re not sure. Several thousand. The island’s about twenty-five square miles, so we have room to work with.”

“Why haven’t I ever seen it on any maps?” Parker asked. “Was it always called Salvation Island?”

Theresa led them back into the trees. “No. It didn’t have a name before we recently christened it. We just called it ‘the island’ I suppose.” She smirked. “Yes, like on
Lost
. But we don’t have any polar bears or bunkers that I know of. As for maps, my grandfather was a man of influence. Even managed to have it taken off Google Maps before he died. Amazing what money can accomplish.”

“If he was so rich, why isn’t it fancier here?” Parker asked.

“That wasn’t his vision. He wanted wolves to get back to nature here.”

They passed the garden plots going back toward the main buildings, more people of all ages bent and filling baskets.

“I feel like I’m in that
Star Trek
movie on the planet where everyone wears brown and never raises their voices.” Parker hadn’t meant to say it out loud, and now Theresa looked back at him with a furrowed brow. “I just mean…it’s trippy. Like a commune or something.”

She smiled. “It is a bit. When my mom would bring me here as a kid, I loved it. Running around barefoot with other wolves, not hiding who I am. But when I was a teenager I thought it was ‘so lame.’ I don’t know how my mother put up with me.”

Parker hurried to say, “No, it’s not lame. I didn’t mean that. It’s…”
Weird? Suspiciously peaceful? Potentially awesome?
“I don’t know. My head’s kind of spinning right now.”

“I can imagine.” Theresa led them up a few steps into a squat little building that held a reception area and a few offices through doorways. She sat behind her desk in one and motioned to the wooden guest chairs.

Adam squeezed Parker’s hand once they sat, not letting go even though their palms were super sweaty. Parker’s eyes flicked around the office. A framed map of the world hung on the wall behind the desk, and on top of a row of filing cabinets to the right sat a jumble of picture frames. Theresa was in some of the pictures, and Parker could track the growth of a boy who looked about eleven in the most recent.

It was all so…
normal
. Could Salvation Island really be everything it claimed? His pulse kicked up, excitement sparking through him. He wanted it to be real so fucking badly.

Theresa sat back and watched them for a few moments. “I had a quick conversation with Bethany. She insists you shouldn’t be blamed, Parker. When she joined us, she confessed that she’d cooperated in acts of…aggression and cruelty, and that she regretted it. She hasn’t given us any reason to think her insincere. But I understand why you might feel differently if you were victimized by her and her cohorts in the past.”

He squirmed on the hard chair. “Seeing her was… It sucked. I’ve—I didn’t want to come here. Adam and the others did. I was sure you were setting a trap. And maybe you still are.” He tried to laugh, and it limped out before he cleared his throat, Theresa still watching patiently. “When I saw the boat, it all came rushing back. I didn’t think. I reacted.”

“I can imagine. And this is why we don’t allow weapons. You lied to us, and that’s unacceptable, Parker.”

Adam jumped in. “He’s exhausted. He’s barely slept and—”

“It’s okay.” He squeezed Adam’s slick hand. “No excuses.” To Theresa, he said, “You’re right. I lied. I was afraid. Which is still an excuse, isn’t it? So I guess I should just shut up. I rarely do that, so yeah, I’ll just…”

The smile that briefly lifted her lips seemed genuine. “I understand being afraid. But we’re not your enemy. We live in a new world, and if we’re going to survive—if we’re going to
thrive
—we can’t allow threats. Mercy is a luxury, and luxuries are thin on the ground these days.”

His throat was dry. “So what happens now?” Adam was a wall of tension at his side, and Parker clung to his hand. Would she kick him off?
Would Adam come with me if she did?