When I can’t catch my breath any longer, I stagger to a stop, propped against a tree. Trying to steady my breath, I strain to listen to the forest around me. Trying desperately to separate the sounds of the storm from everything else.
A moment passes, and I regain an inkling of stability in my legs, so I push off the tree. Taking off at a jog, I pray the wind carries my pleas to the fishing hut. Or by some miracle of nature, or whatever universal force is responsible for human connection, Callum hears me.
Pleasehear me.
“Callum!”
My hand hits a tree as I fly past, over the now slippery forest floor. An ache works its way through my knuckles, and my fingertips tingle. A shiver racks my body. With the jacket gone and the misty air rolling, my body temperature has dropped. I lose my footing as I weave through the trees. The rain presses down, sending fat drops cascading from the canopy. They splash onto my hair and face, rolling over my skin.
The tremble that held my body captive for the past forty minutes morphs into shaking.
Each breath now curls into a suspended cloud in front of my face.
The burn between my ribs is most likely setting the air in my lungs to smoke.
The lightning has faded, and now the forest is dark.
I push through the forest, steadying myself against the trees as I go. But cold, exhausted, and close to giving up, I sink to my knees.
Staring through the forest, I have no idea how far I have left to go.
“Callum!” I huff out a cry, losing my conviction. “Where are you?”
Hanging my head, I let the sadness roll through me.
Joshua.
The scream of tires pushing sideways tears through my mind. Bright lights and scared eyes holding mine as they fall closed.
Never to open again.
I slump over, curling up on the cold, wet ground, and hug my knees to my body.
Maybe if I just lie here, life will forget about me. I will be gone. Pay penance for my poor choices. Leave another good man to a life without drama.
Thunder rumbles in the distance. I shake violently against the temporary parcel of cold air from the storm. Soaked to the bone, I wait for numbness to set in.
Maybe I can convince it to stay . . .
Maybe if I just lie here.
I’ll be found. And either way, I can stop being so lost.
T.
Callum.
Either way.
Fat, round spheres fall from above when the canopy moves. They explode on impact as I stare, unseeing. The storm rumbles past, leaving its cold trail as it goes. If only I could whisk away with it.
Then regret folds in around me at the thought of running from this island.
This island is the first place I have been able to relax. To breathe.
I wouldn’t leave?—
Crashing blunders toward me through the forest undergrowth. I’m so turned around, I can’t tell which direction it’s coming from.
