Page 38 of Totally Wrecked
This is the question I’ve been asking myself for days. “My dad is not exactly a prepper…maybe he’d describe himself as a libertarian? Whichever, Dad is hot on self-reliance. We grew up spending weekends in the Mark Twain National Forest, getting drilled on all sorts of survival stuff.”
“There’s a Mark Twain National Forest? Are you making that up?”
“No, it’s in Missouri. We lived in a small town called Rocky Grove. I hated the survivalist weekends. All I wanted was to play with dolls and be a princess. But to get back to your original question, I think I'd have been able to scrape by doing Brooke's part on the show. Idoremember a lot of what Dad taught us.”
Leander grins. “Then I fucking lucked out having you as my shipwreck buddy. Not only are you fucking sexy as hell, you grew up as a prepper, which means you’ll be able to keep me in a life of island luxury. I’m picturing it all now: I'll be swinging in a hammock, and you’ll come back from hunting, carrying a wild boar. Then you’ll roast it and serve it to me on a palm frond platter. Ooh, and you are just wearing a little skirt made out of leaves, and nothing else.”
“Idiot!” I splash water at him.
He splashes back, then dives under the water. The next second I feel my legs being tucked and he pulls me under.
I rise to the surface again, spluttering. “That’s all the thanks I get after saving your life?”
“Sorry, Princess,” he grins. “I am totally your servant from here on out. You tell me what to do and I'll do it.”
“Very well, peasant,” I reply. “The first thing we should do now is find some food, then assess what equipment we have with us. We need to make a plan before it gets dark.”
“Your wish is my command,” he says and wades out of the water, giving me a view of perfect butt cheeks. As he pulls on his wet underwear, followed by his shirt and shorts, I see shiny scar tissue on his feet and ankles. They disappear as he slips on his shoes. “Ready to get out, Keyara?”
Getting dressed, the soaked clothes make for our very own portable swamp cooler system. I imagine in this heat they will dry fast, but it feels great right now. In fact, I am amazed how well I feel, considering I just spent at least fifteen hours at sea.
Leander and I walk back to the beach, Keyara is on his back again.
We really could have had it a heck of a lot worse.
Much worse.
But what about the others?
If I still had my turquoise beads, I would be moving them through my fingers right now, as I pray that Killian and the others are all safe.
REX
We finally make it to the shore. By the looks of it, everyone is in reasonable shape; no life-threatening injuries. Gray doesn’t seem particularly concussed, but Harvey the Host might be in shock. His eyes are closed and his breathing is rapid. I half carry him up the beach and dump him in the shade of a small row of trees.
Gray and Killian stagger up the sand, leaning on each other.
“Tell me what happened,” Gray says, lowering himself and the Irishman to the sand.
What happened? People were counting on me and I got them drowned.
Killian and I take turns describing the explosions aboard the boat.
“Shit.” His throat convulses as he tries to swallow. I’m sure all of us feel like we’ve been crawling through a desert for weeks, vultures circling overhead.
This fucking sucks.
Keyara. Leander. Brooke.
They are alive; they have to be.
I don’t realize I said it outloud until Gray echoes me. “Right. They have to be.”
They have to be.
Killian looks at me and gives me a sad smile.
“You all rest,” he says. “I’ll see if I can find a water source. After all, I’ve got shoes.”
