Page 26 of Resisting Mr. Fancy Pants

We laughed until we didn’t. Since the mood was already sobered, I said, “Do you still think we’ll be found?”

He turned to fully face me. “I think something really bad happened, and it’s slowed an emergency response for us. If we can just hold on, we’ll make it.”

That night, I silently prayed that Agan was right. I missed Zoe like crazy. If I thought it would work, I’d swim an ocean back to her.

Day six wasn’t much better. Though it wasn’t raining, the heavy cloud cover promised more showers. We stayed put lounging most of the day, which led to other things. It might have been romantic with the melodic rain that eventually arrived. But even as we moved together in rhythm, our survival was always in the back of my mind.

The skies cleared by the afternoon of day seven. We left our gear to head to base camp and survey the damage, not sure what we would find. With all the rain, the tide could be higher than normal. When we arrived, the ocean nearly covered the dune, and the “HELP” sign had been washed away. There was nothing to be done today. We would try again tomorrow. Instead, we went to the mandarin tree only to find the low-lying area flooded. The limbs also were bare. The storm had blown away most. Any fruit left wasn’t ripe. My spirits were in the dumps by the time we got to the cave.

“I know things look bad, but don’t give up,” he said, pulling me close. I gave in to a moment of weakness and cried. When my tears dried up, I forced myself to keep my fighting spirit.

And I did for the following week. But by the middle of the third, we were out of protein bars. It hadn’t rained for days, and we were down to a bottle and a half of water. A few days before, Agan had put me on his shoulders as we searched the orange tree for any ripe fruit. We’d come up with a few. On the way back, we’d come across a crab that crawled from the mud.

Fortunately, Agan knew how to cook it. I’d never had crabs, but thought they were normally steamed. Agan, however, had cooked the legs over an open fire. He’d used a rock to crack the shells, and we ate meat for the first time in days. We’d paid for it. Either it was bad, or our stomachs resisted solid food after weeks without meat.

That had been a few days ago. Today, my stomach burned with hunger almost as loud as my thirst. We both had been so sick we had to drink to keep dehydration at bay. The water had lasted longer than I imagined, and I was certain Agan hadn’t been drinking much or at all. As we lay in the tent, both too weak to move, I wondered when my eyes closed if it would be the last time.

TWELVE

Was I dreaming or not?I couldn’t tell. I heard voices other than Agan’s. Things like:

Over here.

We have a pulse.

She needs fluids.

Haley. Can you drink?

Only they all sounded so far away. Yet I sensed movement a lot closer.

We need to get an IV going. Can you find a vein?

I wanted to open my eyes, but it was too hard.

“Agan,” I croaked, unsure if I was calling for him or asking about him as I felt myself being lifted.

They have him, hon. Stay with me.

She’ll need her passport.

Strangely, I think I found it.

But I couldn’t hang on. I slipped into darkness.

Sometime later, I jolted awake. I popped my eyes open and glanced around. I would have asked where I was, but I heard the engine noise. The small windows revealed we were just above the clouds.

“Haley, you’re okay.” A woman appeared in my line of sight.

“Where’s Agan?”

Her immediate frown said it all. The news wasn’t good. “He’s with his father’s people.”

“Is he okay?” I asked, feeling tears form in my eyes. It hadn’t been a dream. I glanced down at my arm and saw I was still hooked up to an IV.

“We don’t know. He wasn’t good. That’s all they told us when they gave us your location.”

I didn’t like the sound of her words. “Wait. They came and got Agan and left me?”

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