Page 41 of Totally Shipped
I’m in some kind of shelter, and I'm wearing damp clothes. I rub my gritty eyes, trying to remember how I got here, my subconsciousness reluctant to bring me back to reality. The rain, the storm, the swim, Harvey.
It’s all too much.
The last thing I remember was being dragged up a beach by Harvey.
After the swim from hell, he’d wanted us to keep walking in the dark, rain coming down so hard it hurt my skin.
But my legs gave out.
And then I woke up here.
Wait! What if Harvey has gone off somewhere? This is my chance to run.
My boots are by my head, so I bend—with some effort—and put them on. Then, very quietly I peek my head out from under the branches.
“Hey!”
Harvey sits leaning against a rock. His eyes are still wild, but now bloodshot and exhausted. I wonder if he slept at all.
He has bottles of water and a pile of fruit next to him.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, like it’s just a regular day.
“I’m okay, I guess.” I’m not. I am wary, and don’t really know how to act. It’s like treading softly around the lair of a bear. He holds out a bottle of water to me. I grab it, then back off a few feet away.
“Err, how are you this morning?” I ask.
“I’m good.” Harvey takes a bite of banana. “Crazy day yesterday, huh?”
You could say that.
“I bet you can’t wait to see your new home,” he adds.
I shake my head. It’s involuntary.
Harvey scowls, but doesn’t say anything. Just stands up, throwing his banana peel in the bushes. “Time to get going.”
“Can I have five minutes? I just need to pee and eat something. I’ll pass out if I don’t eat.”
I’m not stalling, it’s really true.
“Five minutes.”
“Thank you.” I force myself to smile. “I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, just pee here.”
I give up on the idea of privacy, and do my business behind the palm fronds. I’m still thinking about how to leave a trail for my guys, so instead of putting my bra back on, I slip them off and hang them discreetly on a bough. The discreet aspect is not helpful for somebody trying to track me, but it’s not like I can be blatant.
Harvey has a leafy branch, and it’s obliterating our footprints in the sand.
As I walk through the jungle, following in Harvey’s wake, my legs feel weak. Somewhere along the way, I’ve lost the energy to confront him. I need to conserve what resources I have left for the baby. That’s the most important thing. And I need Harvey to think I’m on his side, so he’ll let me rest and eat enough.
But first I have a burning question.
“How long have you been planning all this, Harvey?”
“I’ve been watching you all for weeks, Brooke. I knew they wouldn’t take care of you properly, so I kept an eye on things.”
