Surviving Raine 01 (43 page)

“Can we just get the fuck out of here?” I said to John Paul, ignoring the other guy completely.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he replied.  “Anything you need to get?”

“We should check the shelter,” Raine said.

“Why?” I asked, turning towards her.  “There’s nothing here worth taking back with you.  What do you want, a fucking souvenir?”

Raine stared at me for a moment, her brow furrowed.  She looked like she was about to say something, but then I realized my belt was back at the shelter and I wasn’t leaving without that.

“I have to get my belt,” I grumbled and turned away from her, stalking quickly up the sand towards the shelter.  My boxers were lying on the dried grass mattress, so I dropped my shorts, pulled the fuckers on, and then pulled my shorts back up, too.  I grabbed the belt off the hook on the wall and slipped it through my belt loops.  I didn’t even look at anything else inside but turned on my heel and nearly ran straight into Raine when I started out again.

“Holy shit!” I yelled as I grabbed Raine by the elbows to keep from knocking her over.

“Bastian, what’s…?”

“I’m done here,” I interrupted.  “If you want something, fucking get it so we can get the fuck out of here.”

I walked out, ignoring whatever she was trying to say to me.  I didn’t acknowledge John Paul or the other guy – Nick…whatever – as I walked by and dropped myself into one of the seats at the back of the helicopter.

“Ignore him,” I heard John Paul say.  “He’s always been a moody bastard.”

Focusing all my attention on keeping my hands from starting to shake, I strapped myself in, leaned my head to one side, and stared out the window.  I heard Raine approach with John Paul, and he helped her get the harness on once she was seated.  I was pretty sure he left his hands on her a lot more than he really needed to, but I guessed it didn’t matter anymore, anyway.  She wasn’t mine, not anymore.  I knew she wasn’t.  I knew it would happen like this.

Nick climbed in through the front and lowered himself into the pilot’s seat.  In my peripheral vision, I could see John Paul looking at me, but I acted like I didn’t notice.

“It’s a six-hour flight?” Raine inquired.

“No, we’re only about a half hour from where we’ll land this baby,” Nick said, tapping the controls as he prepared to take off.  He started the engine, and the blades began to rotate.  I watched them swoop by until I could no longer count the rotations.  “I don’t have enough fuel to get all the way back to Venezuela.  We can get a puddle jumper to take us there once we land.”

“Bastian?” Raine’s voice was barely audible over the engine noise.

“What?” I snapped back, not looking at her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s fucking wrong,” I snarled.  “Everything is fucking peachy.”

“You see why we always kept him away from the passengers?” John Paul said with a laugh.  “I bet he’s given you quite an earful over the past few weeks.  Sharks and that kind of shit suck, but I can’t imagine anything worse than having to listen to him bitch for weeks on end!”

“Fuck you.”

“I don’t know what I would have done without him,” I heard Raine say quietly.  I could feel her looking at me, but I didn’t turn towards her.

“He is a useful bastard, isn’t he?” John Paul said.

“Fuck you,” I repeated.

He just laughed and turned back around, looking out the front of the helicopter as we slowly lifted off the sand.  As we lifted off the ground, I felt as if my chest were being torn into two pieces.  Everything I ever wanted had been there, and now we were slowly moving away from it.  I’d never have that again.

“Rescue One to base,” Nick said into the radio transmitter.  A scratching voice acknowledged him.  “Castaways are on board!  ETA, ten forty-five.”

I watched paradise grow smaller and smaller as we headed west over the island.  Everything was happening so fast.  Thirty minutes ago, Raine was under me, screaming my name, and I was on top of the fucking world.  All of a sudden, I felt like the world had been whisked out from under me, and except when she glanced warily over at me, Raine looked almost as happy as I had ever seen her.

“So where are we anyway?” I asked over the noise of the engine.

“About fifty miles east of Bonaire,” Nick said.

“That’s it?” I asked, a little surprised we hadn’t seen more boat traffic if we were that close.

“Where is that?” Raine asked quietly.

“Netherlands Antilles,” I told her.  “Just north of Venezuela.  I can’t believe no one else found us before now when we’re this close to that kind of population.”

“Yeah, but no one comes out in this direction by boat because of the reefs,” Nick said.  He pointed out towards the water as we flew over the darkened shape below.  The reef was huge and pretty much encompassed our small island.  No wonder we hadn’t seen any other boats.  “They’re up at the top of the water and can rip ships wide open.  Some smaller boats can get through, and sometimes tourists go diving in the area, but it’s the off-season.”

“How did you know where to look for us?” I asked.

“We’ve been most everywhere,” John Paul said.  “Given the currents, you just about had to have drifted south.  We’ve been all over, from Aruba to Trinidad and Tobago.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t give up,” Raine chirped.  “How long were we missing?”

“Sixty-eight days,” John Paul told her.  “We stopped getting any help after thirty.  They said you must have drowned or died of dehydration by then, but I told them you wouldn’t die that way.”

I snorted.

“You’re both on a list to be declared legally dead next month,” Nick told us.

“I didn’t really know if she would be with you,” John Paul smiled at Raine a little sheepishly.  “We hoped so since we didn’t find a body, but we didn’t know.”

“Bastian saved my life.”  Raine beamed at me.

“That’s a switch,” I heard John Paul say under his breath.  When I glared up at him, he winked at me.  I had no idea what this Nick knew, but I didn’t need John Paul running his mouth like that.  It would have taken too much effort to un-strap myself from the harness just to move up front and smack him, so I ignored his stupid-ass comment instead.

“He saved me more than once,” Raine continued.  “He caught fish, and collected rain water, and told me how much we could drink every day.  We ate raw pelican, which was awful, but we only ate it because it had rained and we had water again.”

“What’s the plan?” I asked John Paul before Raine could recount all the shit that didn’t matter now.  He nodded his head to Nick.

“I’ll fly us back to Bonaire,” Nick said.  “From there, we get a small plane to take us to Maiquetía – the airport in Caracas.  We’ve been staying in a house I have rented while we’ve been looking for you – it’s close to the airport.  We can stay there tonight and then get the next flight booked back to the States.  There are some places to get you guys some supplies, too – clothes, shoes, whatever you need.  You can get cleaned up and go back home tomorrow.”

Home.
  Yeah, where the fuck was that now?

No one spoke much for the rest of the ride.  We would have had to yell at each other over the noise anyway, so there wasn’t any point in talking.  Raine kept looking over at me and trying to get my attention, but I ignored her.  Part of me felt angry, and I could understand that part, but there was another part – one that went much deeper – and I didn’t know what it was trying to tell me.  My gut was tight, and I was having a hard time taking deep breaths.  I couldn’t look at either Nick or John Paul without wanting to punch the shit out of them, but when I stole a glance at Raine…well, that shit made my stomach cramp up more.  I was losing everything.  I was losing her.

Deep, deep inside of me, I wanted to fucking kill John Paul and Nick – and not in the figurative sense.  I wished John Paul hadn’t made it when
The Oblation
sank.  I wished Nick had given up like the rest of the would-be rescuers.  I wished they had run into a freak crosswind and crashed the fucking helicopter rather than having found us.  I knew how evil and callous that was even as a thought, but I couldn’t help it.  John Paul was probably the only person in the world I could consider a friend, and I would happily wish him dead if it would take me back to an hour ago and just fucking leave me there for eternity.  The farther away we were from my paradise, the more I wanted to curl up with a bottle and fucking forget everything.

Raine watched out the window as the island disappeared behind us, and the larger islands of the Netherlands Antilles appeared in front of us.  It wasn’t too long of a flight, and soon we were landing at Flamingo Airport.

It was all going to be different now.  I knew it would be.

* * * * *

I don’t know how I ended up in the fucking window seat.  I fucking hated window seats.

The prop plane had room to seat nine, not including the pilot.  There were only the four of us on it, though.  The pilot was a dark skinned-guy with tightly twisted braids hanging all around him.  It was so long, it made me wonder if it was all real or if he had fake shit weaved into his own hair.  He spoke English with a Jamaican accent, and I wanted to strangle him with a Bob Marley hat for being so stereotypical.  I didn’t speak to anyone during the flight, and as soon as we landed, I unclipped my seatbelt, climbed over Raine, threw open the door, and dropped onto the asphalt.  I got about ten feet before six people were in front of me, flashing fucking cameras in my face and yelling out questions.

About a half second before I would have thrown a punch, John Paul was in between me and the journalist in front of me, pushing gently against the guy’s chest and telling him to lay off for a while.  At least ten other guys dressed in uniforms approached, and a couple of them did a little crowd control.  The others escorted the four of us out of the landing area and inside to a lounge of some sort.  I had to take a piss, and I couldn’t decide if I was more annoyed that I couldn’t just whip my dick out and do it anywhere or gladder to be able to actually flush and wash my hands when I was done.  Raine was chattering away about how fucking awesome toilet paper was – well, she didn’t actually say fucking, but still – and I couldn’t take how fucking thrilled she was to be away from our island.

I locked the bathroom door, leaned my back against it, and lit one of the Lobelia cigarettes I still had in my belt pouch.  I guess I could have gone and bought some real fucking smokes, but I didn’t have any actual cash on me and I wasn’t about to ask anyone for some at this point.  I still didn’t even have a fucking shirt, for that matter.  Shit – I’d have to get some money so I could find a fucking drink somewhere.  My head was literally spinning – everything was happening way too fucking fast.  I was back where I could get smokes and alcohol and clothes and a fucking hooker, if I wanted one.  I didn’t want one.  I didn’t want any of that shit.

I wanted to go back home.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a minute and then took a final draw on the cigarette, which both smelled and tasted of home.  Part of it was comforting, but most of it just threw it all back in my face.  Everything I wanted and needed was there…or at least it had been.  Now there was nothing there for me because she was here.  But everything else here – everything in the
real world
– I fucking hated it all.  I hated the cities, the shops, the parks, the docks, the airports – fucking hated it.  And the people…fuck, I hated them the most.  I tossed the end of the smoke into the toilet and flushed it down.

As I opened the door, I heard Raine scream.

Visions of rapists, murderers, slavers, and drug lords ran through my head as I raced down the hall only to see her with a huge fucking grin and in some chick’s embrace.  The girl was dark-skinned, chunky, had wild, dark hair that was just all over the place and a voracious grin.  She was squealing at the top of her fucking lungs, holding on to Raine’s shoulders as they both jumped around in a circle.

“What the fuck are you screaming about?” I growled before I even realized what I was saying.

The chunky woman turned to look at me the same time as Raine did, and her eyes bore into my skull, narrowed, then slowly moved over to look at Raine.

“This is Bastian,” Raine said softly.  “Bastian, this is Lindsay – we were just happy to see each other.”

“You sounded like you were…fuck it.  Never mind.”  Now that I had a clear enough head to think about it, it hadn’t been a scream of fear or pain at all, but that didn’t stop it from scaring the shit out of me.

Raine’s eyes went to Lindsay’s, and she looked a little contrite.  Lindsay slowly looked from Raine, to me, and then back to Raine again.

“He saved me,” Raine told her, “more than once.”

Lindsay’s hands dropped, effectively releasing Raine.  She turned and glided up to me, tilting her head upwards and sideways before standing on her tiptoes to fling her arms around my neck.

“Thank you,” she said.  The sincerity was clear in her voice.  “Thank you for saving my best friend.  I don’t know what I would have done if I never saw her again.”

I didn’t respond, just looked over at Raine as Lindsay hugged me tightly for a moment, then she turned back to Raine and hugged her again, just for good measure.  She took a step back, placed her hands on Raine’s shoulders, and looked her up and down.

“What are you wearing?” Lindsay inquired.

“Well…um…this is Bastian’s shirt…” Raine started to say.

“I think we need to get to the market.” Lindsay nodded.  “Though you do look fabulous in basic black, that’s not exactly a flattering cut for you.”

Raine giggled.  I tried to mentally come to terms with her shedding the last of my clothing, and failed miserably.

In what seemed to be under five minutes, we had sneaked around the reporters and out of the airport, found a taxi, and been driven to the nearest shopping area.  Lindsay had given Raine one of her own shirts, which was too big and hung down low enough to practically display her nipples for the fucking world.  My cock was pleased as punch, but I wanted to throw a punch at anyone who looked at her, which included John Paul glancing sideways at her from the front seat.  I had put my own shirt back on, and we had both been given a pair of flip-flop shoes.