Page 84 of Totally Shipped
“I’m really worried,” Gray repeats.
“Get in line.”
Talking of lines, I look at Gray and see deep grooves carved into his forehead and around his eyes. Hard to tell what’s going on under that beard. This island time is aging us hella quickly.
The frisbee comes scudding towards us. Gray reaches out a hand, loses balance, and goes down hard.
He doesn’t spring to his feet, just lies there on his back.
“Gray?”
“Fuck.” He lets out a long sigh, “I think I’m going crazy. I keep imagining I can hear a plane.”
I cock my head to one side; all I hear are waves.
Gray shields his eyes with his hand and turns his head skyward. “I thought I heard one the last couple of days as well.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because there was nothing to see. Maybe my whole vestibular thing is coming back.”
Gray had terrible tinnitus last year.
“Maybe, but why don’t we throw up a signal fire just in case? If nothing else, it’s good for us to get into the practice again.”
“Seems like a lot of effort.”
“You chill. I’ll do it.”
As I drag branches and palm fronds to heap on our small fire, I have to agree with Gray. This is a lot of effort, but if we stop trying, it’s going to be the end of us. Quitting is not an option.
The fire smolders for a while, then catches properly. The flames get higher. As the greenery catches, clouds of smoke swirl up into the blue. Daisy and Thea had been at the water’s edge with Leander, but now they walk back towards me.
“Signal fire?”
“Gray thought he might have heard a plane.”
They immediately crane their necks and look around. None of us see or hear anything.
“Are Gray’s symptoms coming back?”
We look at him laying in the sand with his eyes closed. I haven’t seen him this shutdown in a while.
“Maybe?”
The gray smoke swirls up into the sky, immediately getting lost among the dull clouds.
I think back to when we were on Buckletop Mountain.
The planes were flying overhead, dumping load after load of water and not making a dent. The wind had changed direction out of fucking nowhere. The sky was filled with low dense cloud, and the air was thick with smoke and lightning strikes. Why the fuck had god decided to add those to the mix?
We could have maybe made it out if I’d reacted quicker; left the elementary school to burn. But I thought we could beat it.
Thinking you can beat a blaze is a dangerous business; a wildfire is so unpredictable. When I realized I’d fucked us all, I have never known a pain so intense. Utter failure.
I’d killed us.
Crawling out of the fire shelter bags after the smoke and the flames had swept through was hideous. I didn’t want to be alive. I’d passed out to the screams and prayers of my crew, and if I survived and they didn’t?
