Page 64 of Wrecked
We are stranded on an island after surviving a plane crash. We just got swept away with heavy floodwaters, nearly drowning. We haven’t eaten in almost two days. We’re only hours from hypothermia, and chances are our shelter is gone. It’s the worstsituation I could have ever imagined for myself, yet here we are, smiling and laughing.
Nate was right. It doesn’t matter where I am or what I am going through. If I have him with me, I’m going to be okay. Not because he is going to protect me, which he will, but because I am happiest when I am with him.
He’s my home.
Right now, home just happens to be located on an uninhabited island in South America. Even if this is home for the rest of my life, it’s the home that I want. Because it’s where Nate is.
I focus my attention back on Nate as the rain starts to pick up again. I watch with fear when he slips slightly as he ascends the wide trunk. His legs and arms are wrapped around its massive girth, and he shimmies his way up to the first limb. The branches begin to sway from the heavy winds, and I can see him struggle to hold on. An unhealthy amount of anxiety takes root, and it feels like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. If he doesn’t die falling from this tree, I’m going to die watching him climb it.
Nate reaches a fork in the trunk and straddles it, allowing him to take a quick break. After a few short seconds, he starts moving again. He reaches for the limb above him, and jumps, swinging his body until he is sitting on top of it. He crawls to the end, where the limb starts to thin out, and reaches for the branch above him. He uses it to pull himself up to a standing position and then readies himself to jump.
“Just a small jump, baby. No big deal,” he calls down to me, but the tremble in his voice betrays his nerves. He bends his knees, crouching low, and then launches himself into the air. Time seems to freeze as I watch him soar between the trees in slow motion. The heavy rain lashes against him as he reaches his arms out to the tree in front of him.
He’s not going to make it.
His fingers barely caress the limb he was aiming for beforehe starts to plummet toward the ground. He reaches for the next branch, but it’s too wet and thin and snaps in his grasp.
“NATE!” I scream in horror, helpless to do anything but watch him fall closer and closer to the ground. The water isn’t deep enough to break his fall. He’s going to hit the ground at full force and then be swept away with the flood.
I can’t watch.
I can’t watch this happen.
But I can’t look away. I need him to know that I’m with him right now. Even if the only way to do that is to be present.
“Please, God,” I whisper as my tears mix with rainwater.
The final limb is within grasp, but it looks small and fragile. Nate twists his body midair so that his arms stretch out in front of him, like he’s superman, aligning his body so that it is parallel with the ground. He won’t be able to grab the branch in this position, but he may be able to land on it.
Seconds later, he collides with the lowest bough, causing it to sway up and down from the impact of his weight. He doesn’t waste a second, he hoists himself up the branch toward the thicker end of the limb and hugs his body to the trunk of the tree. I can see his rapid breaths from where I am standing.
“Nate! Oh my God. Oh my God. Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay.” I cry out desperately, unable to control my emotions. If he were standing next to me, I would launch myself at him and climbhimlike a tree.
“See. Told you I could make it. Easy day, Pip,” he teases, his breaths coming out hard and fast. I want to kill him. I want to kiss him and then kill him, and I tell him as much.
He lowers himself to the branch where our basket is hanging. He’s careful not to shake the limb as he crawls toward the end. The rapid water flows beneath him, but the monsoon in the sky begins to downgrade into a normal rainstorm.
“I’m going to toss this basket over to you and then jump over the rapids.”
“Jump over the rapids!? Did we not just see the results of jumping toward danger?” I bellow.
I literally bellow.
Like the roar of a lioness desperate to protect her king.
“This will be much easier. A lot less feet to fall from,” he jokes, trying to ease the tension.
It’s not working.
Before I can even object, he tosses the basket toward me, and I run to catch it. The meat of the coconut is what we are after, but I would be sad to lose the delicious water if it were to crack open.
I don’t even have time to look up from the basket before Nate is crouched on the limb in a jumping position. I cover my eyes, unable to watch this time. If Nate doesn’t make it over, I will willingly walk over to those rapids and throw myself in. I won’t be here without him. Not just here on this island. Here, in this lifetime. I decided this when I saw him falling to his death only seconds ago. He’s the only thing for me in this life, and I refuse to live it without him.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that I jolt when my hands are pulled away from my eyes.
Nate.
I leap into his arms, draping myself around him, as I bury my face into the crook of his neck, just breathing him in. His arms wrap around me as he rubs his hands up and down my back. The comfort I get from his hands on my body is soul-deep. Everything feels less…tense. My shoulders relax, muscles no longer contracting. I feel limp in his arms.
