Page 31 of Hate Wrecked

He doesn’t hesitate, pushing up and moving to the opening of the tent, peering out into the early morning darkness enveloping the sky. I stay still as he leaves the bunker, walking into the early morning light.

The moments pass, slow and agonizing, until finally I hear him say my name, and when I walk out of the tent, into the jungle, finding Rowan returned, he’s smiling.

As Rowan turns to me, a surprising and mischievous spark gleaming in his eyes, he whispers, “You won’t believe this,” he says, beckoning me from the shadows. Curiosity and grief mingle within me as I join him at the entrance to the bunker. Together, we make our way through the jungle to the shoreline. The first light of dawn illuminates the sky, revealing a breathtaking sight that defies the solitude of our island.

In the distance, a pod of dolphins dances through the waves, their sleek bodies catching the faint glow of the approaching sunrise. Their leaps and splashes break the silence, and tears spring to my eyes. Rowan’s smile widens as he looks at me, his eyes filled with a wonder I haven’t been graced with in years. For a moment, the heaviness of what we had to do falls away. We share a silent acknowledgment that even in our isolation, the world unfolds in ways we cannot explain or fathom.

Leaving Rowan’s side, I turn my gaze to the yacht stranded just offshore.

Life and death. Danger and awe. I shut my eyes, relishing the colors that blend into the sky at the horizon. Palm trees dance in the wind as I stroll along the shoreline, warm sand beneath my feet. In this moment, worries about the crash and the uncertainty of our situation fade like the end of a song.

A BEAST WE CANNOT TAME

ROWAN

As the sunrises on the horizon, casting a glow over the secluded cove, I watch Riley stand at the water’s edge, staring at the dolphins, at the wreckage. The rhythmic lull of the waves seems to beckon her.

Without hesitating, she kicks off her shoes, then runs toward the sea. The sand clings to her bare feet, leaving a trail of footprints on the shore.

In the growing light, her silhouette tempts the parts of my past that I’ve buried. I almost join her, wrap my body around her in the water, but I don’t. I watch the dolphins swim away and Riley dip below the surface. The ripples spread outward as she resurfaces, her smile radiant against the backdrop of blue, water clinging to her skin like liquid silver. I’m jealous of the carefree grace she effortlessly displays as she floats on the surface. It reminds me of the past, of her form in the pool, beckoning me to sin.

I can't help but be stuck stiff by the simplicity of the moment—the serenity of the cove, the sound of her laughter, and the way the water cradles her body the way I wish I could. It's a fleeting—the weakness I feel as the cove becomes a vice I want to fall into, along with Riley's laughter. It makes me want to dip into the past.

As she swims back toward the shore, I’m grateful for the reprieve from the darkness of the bunker, and the stifling feeling we felt there. In the stillness of the warming day, I can almost believe we aren’t stranded miles away from civilization, from safety.

From who we used to be.

* * *

Under the scorching sun, Riley and I move the lifeboat to the other side of our small island, then load it with our supplies. We carefully stow water bottles, granola bars, the map, and a first aid kit. Our tent and suitcases follow suit.

More than once, I catch myself glancing toward the ship, wanting to swim out one more time, knowing it will bring a fight with Riley. Instead, I pull out my map, gazing at her. “We appear to have crashed on Hollow Island.”

“Remind me how many islands are there again,” she says.

“Technically, it’s around fifty.”

“Fifty?”

“Yeah, if you get scientific about it. But not all are what you or I would consider an island.”

“Where do we need to go?”

I point to a shoreline in the distance. “Falcon Island has the airstrip.”

“Do we need to move all of this? Once we radio back to the mainland, we could just come back here and stay, right? Maybe we don’t need to move the lifeboat.”

“I think it’s best we move to Falcon Island. This one is small. I don’t want to be on it when another storm comes.”

“Even though it has the bunker?”

“Falcon Island will have buildings.”

Riley glances at the shoreline in the distance. “Can we walk through that?”

I nod. “They’re called sandflats, and technically, yes, we could. But do you want to carry everything we have by hand?” I ask.

She shakes her head.

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